The mont I stepped into the building, I felt it.
Not sothing loud. Not obvious.
Just... eyes.
The lobby was busy in that quiet corporate way. Phones ringing softly. Heels clicking against marble. Soone laughing near the coffee station. Normal. Until it wasn’t.
One head turned.
Then another.
Whispers followed.
I didn’t need to hear the words to know what they were about. I’d seen the blogs this morning. The photos. Zane. . Headlines that used words like engagent.
A group of employees near the security desk went silent as I passed. Soone murmured sothing under their breath. Another person nudged their coworker a little too obviously.
So it’s true, then.
I kept my face neutral and walked like I belonged there. Chin up. Shoulders back. If they were going to stare, they could at least get a good look.
The manager’s desk was straight ahead. I checked the naplate like my grandfather had instructed.
"Good afternoon," I said.
The woman behind the desk looked up. She was polished in the effortless way so people were born with. Perfect hair. Soft makeup. Calm eyes that sharpened just slightly when she took in.
"Yes?"
"I’m here to see Zane Whitmore.
Sothing flickered across her face. Recognition. Then curiosity.
"Do you have an appointnt?"
"I don’t ." I slid the card across the desk. "But he should be expecting ."
She glanced at the card, then back at . Her lips parted like she might say sothing else, then she smiled instead. Professional and controlled.
"Of course."
She stood. "You’ll want the elevator to your left. Top floor."
"All the way up?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes," she said. "It’s just his office up there. And his secretary."
I nodded. "Thank you."
She hesitated, then added quietly, "You can go straight up. I’ll let them know you’re on your way."
I didn’t ask how she knew who I was.
I turned toward the elevators, aware of the murmurs starting again behind . Lower this ti. Less restrained.
The doors slid open. I stepped inside alone.
As the elevator climbed, my reflection stared back at in the mirrored wall. I looked composed. Too composed for how fast my heart was beating
Last floor.
The doors opened into silence.
No bustle. No chatter. Just a clean hallway, muted lighting, and a desk positioned neatly to the side.
A woman looked up from her computer.
Zane’s secretary.
She stood imdiately. "Elaine Hartwell?"
I froze for half a second at the na.
"Yes," I said anyway.
She replied looking flustered, like she wasn’t expecting anyone to co in now. Odd I thought to myself.
Stepping aside she directed ."His office is at the end of the hall."
I walked past her, my footsteps the only sound.
At the door, I paused, my ears catching onto sothing.
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