Page 228 of My Italian Love Affair

And the sight of this room no longer sends anxiety curling through my veins.

I glance at the empty chair, give it a mental middle finger, and then walk to my desk and sink into my chair with a sigh of relief.

I open my laptop, take a sip of coffee, and savour the small, simple pleasure of a Mark-free Monday morning.

Until someone clears their throat behind me.

I freeze at the deep,masculinesound, my fingers poised above the keyboard.

I turn slowly -

And nearly spill my coffee down my blouse.

"Richard?"

"Morning, Sinclair."

Richard stands there in his usual navy suit and red tie, his hair slicked back with a little too much gel and his expression somewhere between smug and exasperated.

"What, surprised to see me?"

"Ah - yeah," I admit. "A bit."

Richard has never once mentioned coming to Rome. His domain is the London office, the executive suite with the view of the Thames, and he’s made it clear just how much he hates traveling unless it's out of Europe.

"What are you doing here?"

He gestures toward Mark's empty office with a jerk of his chin.

"Come on. Let's talk."

*

Richard shuts the door behind us with aclick.

The sound echoes, making the space feel uncomfortably claustrophobic.

I sit on the chair across from the desk while Richard perches on the edge of it, folding his arms across his chest.

"I had to come out here to handle things personally," he says. "The executive board isn’t exactlythrilledabout everything that went down last week. Chapman’s firing isn’t something we can just brush under the rug."

"I gave you everything you needed," I say cautiously.

"You did," Richard agrees. "And believe me, your statement was helpful. But there’s more to it than that, Sinclair. Questions have been raised about the office culture here. Scrutiny from some of the board members."

He grimaces.

"A couple of the other women who came forwards with complaints about Chapman are hinting at going public, and the last thing the company needs is a scandal."

"Maybe they wouldn't be threatening to go public if they'd been taken seriously sooner," I say before I can stop myself.

"Careful, Sinclair,” Richard's eyes harden. "Anyway," he continues, the irritation lingering in his tone, "that's why I'm here. I need to make sure everything’s clean. Above board. No lingering issues."

"Okay. So… what does that have to do with me?"

Richard's mouth twitches into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, and I shift in my chair, the previous comfort of themorning now long gone.

"I'm glad you asked."

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