Page 60 of Words We Didn't Say

I grunted. “He wishes.” Maybe. One percent.

Sue neatly arranged the frame back on the desk. “Zach, hon.” Her smile was uncertain. “She’s real pretty. A good sort, too, from the stories I’ve heard about how much time she puts inhelping kids living rough. But are you sure you want to risk pissing off the boss?”

“This won’t affect the promotions.” My voice wavered. I didn’t sound so sure.

Sue didn’t look so sure, either. “You’re close. People want to see you succeed this time.” Her hand landed on my shoulder. Squeezed. “Think it through.”

I was still staring out the window five minutes after she’d left, weighing up the options, my mind ticking through the pros and cons.

I made two more decisions.

The photos stayed.

The next decision was long overdue but probably going to bite me on the arse.

With a weary sigh, the weight of my collapsing career heavy in my bones, I pushed off the chair. It was time to see how much more I could risk in one day.

Michaela’s office was on the other side of the floor, but the walk through the winding, busy corridors was still too quick. I paused to take a deep breath and then tapped my knuckles on the glass. Michaela’s eyes stayed locked on her computer screen as she stuffed a bite of sandwich in her mouth. I guess I wasn’t the only one who worked through lunch.

I took a tentative step inside. Michaela always wore too much perfume, and an overdose of floral clung to the walls. My empty stomach retched. I didn’t take another step. It was safer to hover close to the door and keep as much distance between us as possible, anyway.

I cleared my throat.

Her eyes darted across the room, brows popping up. “Daafght a shamoth?”

I rubbed my jaw. I wasn’t exactly fluent in Mouthful of Chicken Sandwich.

Michaela chewed frantically and grabbed the glass of water by her keyboard. “Sorry!” She gulped down a couple of sips and flashed me a sheepish smile. “Did I forget a settlement?”

I shook my head.

“Oh.” Her hand fluttered around the desk to swipe a tissue. She dabbed at her mouth and then balled the tissue in her fist to point it at the empty chair across from the desk. “Do you want to…?”

Sit down? No way. I wasn’t staying. I shook my head again, standing rigid by the door.

What do I say…?

I should’ve written some notes down on palm cards or planned an agenda. I wasn’t good at impromptu deliveries of bad news. I stuffed my hands in my pockets, eyes dropping to examine an invisible scuff on my shoe.

“Zach, don’t be nervous.”

I flicked my gaze back to Michaela.

“I’ll save you the angst,” she said. “I accept.”

“You…?”Accept what?

“Drinks. Dinner. Dessert.” Her laugh was almost breathless. “But I know you prefer indulging in the last option at my place.” She attempted a wink but didn’t quite stick the landing.

No.“Ah…”Absolutely not.

My mind screamed at me that the conversation was already derailing, hurtling towards oblivion, so why was I standing there, saying nothing? I needed to find my voice. I needed to find myspine. I couldn’t have the remnants of this—God—arrangementhanging over my head or ruin my one percent chance with Eden.

“You need to stop,” I said.

Thin brows knitted together. “What?”

“You need to stop. We work together. We—”

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