He jerked his chin toward the glass-walled conference room.
Through it, I saw Cole — standing, pacing, talking with his hands like he was giving a pitch. HR sat across from him, impassive. Darren, the CEO, looked exhausted. At the end of the table, a VP I'd only seen at the holiday party sat watching like a judge.
Then the door swung open.
Alyssa marched in, ponytail swinging, phone in hand, voice already raised. She didn't bother to knock.
"What is she doing?" I whispered.
I saw Cole.
"Blowing it all up," Mark said. "She's furious they're tying her name to this."
HR raised a hand to calm her. Alyssa talked over it.
Then someone slid a manila folder across the table toward Cole. He stopped talking mid-sentence.
His entire posture shifted, like the wind had gone out of him.
About 20 minutes later, the door opened again. Cole stepped into the hallway, eyes wide when he saw me.
"Paige," he said softly.
I didn't move.
His entire posture shifted.
Continued on the next page
