Grayson
I arrived at the office earlier than usual. Too early.
Half of Newport was still asleep when I stepped into the elevator, the hum of the machinery echoing around me. I caught my reflection in the polished doors, crisp suit, steady jaw, every detail in place. But the calm was a mask.
I'd told myself I was coming in to prep for my morning meetings. Truth was, I couldn't stay home, not when I knew she was coming.
Elena.
The mere thought of her name was like a punch to my gut.
I dropped my briefcase onto the desk, set up my laptop, and tried to focus on the dozens of emails I hadn't responded to. For a few minutes, I managed to type some replies. But at intervals I caught myself staring at the timestamp on my monitor.
8:50
The meeting with her was at 10.
My pulse quickened.
