By hour two, I’ve memorized the script.By hour three, I’ve stopped reading it.By hour four, I’ve stopped pretending it matters.

I might as well go back to the temp agency.This is worse than trying to sell life insurance.

I don’t know who I pissed off to get assigned here, but I have a shortlist.

Somewhere behind the divider, I hear Andra’s voice—low but not whispering.

“He’s been off since the trip.Just—checked out.”

“Yeah,” Stewy says.“I’ve never seen him like this.Canceled two meetings.Didn’t even look at the quarterly brief.”

A pause.A flick of static from someone’s headset.

“Think it was her?”

“I mean…” Stewy draws it out.“She was the only one with him that night.”

“You saw his face when the plane landed.”

“Yeah,” Stewy agrees.“Like someone died.”

They both laugh, but it’s the kind that hides something sharper.

“Well,” Andra says.“She’s not exactly playing to win, is she?”

A silence.A file drops on a desk.Someone walks away.

I stay where I am.Headset in my lap.Heart beating like it’s trying to take sides.

Speaking of my boss, at least I don’t have to see him.Not that I was expecting some grand reunion.But I’d be lying if I said part of me wasn’t still waiting for something.A text.A ping.A sentence.Anything.

But no.It’s radio silence and cold calls.

I tell myself not to worry.It’s just office gossip.Just Andra being Andra, Stewy being Stewy.But it sticks anyway—what they said about him being off.Checked out.

What if it wasn’t nothing?

What if I got under his skin more than I thought?

I don’t know why that matters.It shouldn’t.But it does.

Instead of answers, I get Stewy.

He appears in the doorway like he’s walked onto a late-night talk show.“There she is.Lena Blackwell, making power moves.”

I put the headset back on.“If this is a power move, I’m failing upwards.”

He grins.“You still have your wisdom teeth?”

“What?”

“Your wisdom teeth.”

Andra appears behind him.“We’re taking bets.”

This is not odd at all.

“No,” I say.“Had them out in college.”