Chapter 8 - SHOULD'VE DONE THAT SOONER, MISS VARGAS

My chest loosened with each floor the elevator climbed, relief flooding me when I didn't see Mr. Rossi in the elevator. Maybe yesterday had just been a blip, an anomaly in the otherwise strictly professional dynamic we maintained.

Settling into my desk, I tried to look at some work. By 8:25, I was brewing his coffee, the rich aroma filling the small office kitchen. At 8:30 sharp, I knocked on his door.

"Come in."

His voice was as crisp and businesslike as ever. I entered, placing the steaming mug on his desk. “Here’s your coffee, Mr. Rossi.”

“Thank you,” he said, his tone clipped but polite.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to just get it over with. "Mr. Rossi, about the other night, the clothes and—"

His head snapped up, his expression shuttered, devoid of any warmth. It was like he'd flipped a switch, all trace of the man from that night gone. "Miss Vargas, don't you think it's best to keep personal matters out of the workplace?"

His words, delivered with an icy calm, were like a sla