GRUMPY

And then Nicole straightens her shoulders, nods, and does what I say.

It’s a small victory, but it’s satisfying as fuck.

Nicole

Nathan gestures for me to take a seat so I do, waiting for him to do the same. I can’t tell if the fact that he wants to keep talking means my apology worked...or is about to blow up in my face.

I imagine going home to my cat and explaining we have to take him off wet food because Mamma lost another job.

I should have adopted a cat with less expensive taste.

Instead of sitting down with me, Nathan walks around to my side of the desk and leans back against it, crossing his arms.

Oh good. He’s loomer.

I can’t tell if it’s a calculated attempt to look more powerful, or if he just has no idea how casually imposing he is. But from this angle he looks impossibly tall. He also ditched the suit jacket sometime in the past few hours, and now he’s got his shirtsleeves rolled up to expose some very nice forearms.

Not that I’m looking.

I mean, I’m looking at him. But not