Page 48 of A Forgotten Promise

I bite my bottom lip. “No.”

“Are you here for Cal?”

My eyes widen. “Shit. Is he here?”

She giggles. “I think so. Are you here for the Asshole?”

My eyes widen even more. Is she calling her boss an asshole openly? “Yes?”

“Does he know you’re here?”

I want to lie, just like I lied downstairs, but something tells me Roxy’s bullshit radar is precisely calibrated on account of working for the Merged founders.

“No, he doesn’t. I wanted to surprise him.” I don’t know if she knows her boss’s engagement is a sham.

Her grin is naughty. She probably knows more rather than less. “Let me show you his office, and no worries, Cal’s is on the opposite side of this floor. And they are both in a timeout, so I doubt you’d run into him.”

“A timeout?” I follow her fast steps down the corridor lined with glass-wall offices and cubicles.

“Your brother cracked your fiancé’s lip. The latter reciprocated with a bruised chin.” The condemnation is palpable in her tone. “What can I tell you, good times.”

“Shit,” I mutter.

“Larissa, is Corm available?” Roxy asks a middle-aged woman behind another white, sleek desk. I guess that’s Corm’s assistant.

“Is he ever?” Larissa rolls her eyes. I like her.

“This is his fiancée, Saar. You should give her your number, so she can organize her future husband’s agenda. I’m sure he’d love that.” Roxy leans against the counter.

Larissa chuckles. “Nice to meet you, Saar. Don’t listen to this crazy woman. She is pissed at him, but I know my place. I’m here to protect his agenda.”

Roxy snorts. “Well, Saar, this is as far as I could get you. See you later.”

I stare at the solid wooden door in front of me.

“He’s on a call.” Larissa stands up, eyeing me like I just delivered anthrax to her boss. He’d deserve it.

“Is he?” I tilt my head, challenging her.

“You’re welcome to wait, but it might take an hour. He just started.” Larissa points to a single chair by the door and sits back behind her desk.

The chair looks lonely and pathetic. Just looking at it, I feel like Corm is winning. Larissa’s fingers run over her keyboard expertly while I hover beside her desk, filled with indecision.

I look around, but there is no other seat. “Look, Larissa, clearly you’re great at your job, but I need five minutes with Corm.”

“If he wants those five minutes with you, he’ll let me know.”

I jerk my head back. “He knows I’m here?”

She continues typing, giving me only a slight nod. Before I can ask her more, Corm’s office door swings open, and he gestures me in.

I have a hard time containing my smile when I see his swollen lips. I don’t condone violence, but seeing this man in a state that is less than perfect is satisfying.

“What is the projection?” he barks, still on his call.

As I pass him, he moves, and my arm brushes his chest, or just his jacket, but regardless, an electric current runs down my spine. I snap my head to the side, shocked by my unwelcome reaction. Our gazes collide, and we remain frozen for a beat.

His expression isn’t friendly, but it’s not calculating and cold as usual. He holds my gaze like he did two years ago in his ridiculous hotel suite office. Like he can’t decide if I’m good or bad news, and it pisses him that he wants to find out.

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