Page 114 of Their Arrangement

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Still. Hollow.

And I clicked.

I made it to the office ten minutes early.

Which was stupid.

Because early meant more time to sit at my desk and sweat through my blouse, wondering if the digital mistake I made in the dark had already clawed its way into the light.

I hadn’t slept.

I’d stared at my ceiling for four hours, then paced my apartment for two more. I drank wine I couldn’t taste. Took a shower I didn’t remember. And dressed in a blouse that still smelled like Barron’s cologne from the day before.

And now?

Now I was shaking.

I opened my laptop with fingers that barely obeyed.

The screen lit up.

I clicked the browser. Reflex.

Just to check.

Maybe it hadn’t gone through. Maybe it hadn’t meant anything.

Maybe—

Inbox:1 New Message

I clicked.

Available tonight? Double if you don’t speak.

My stomach dropped.

I closed the window. Fast.

Closed the whole fucking browser.

Or—thoughtI did.

My name was called over the intercom.

Gotham pitch meeting. Top floor.

I stood.

Smoothed my skirt.

Grabbed the laptop.

And walked.

The elevator ride was the longest 40 seconds of my life.

The floor was empty. Too quiet.

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