Chapter 17

Zara POV

“Zara Maverick?” The mailman asks, looking a little shocked. Okay, who am I kidding? The poor man looks so shocked he could jump out of his own skin.

I nod and smile at him as politely as I can, while the only thought in my mind is a reminder not to close my eyes and faint right in front of him. I will drop dead before I let Thane humiliate me like this and fire me over a stupid joke he’s pulling on me.

I mean, who, in their right mind, sends their employee for an important package ten minutes before the supposed arrival of the mailman? That prick is more slippery than a sea cucumber.

I try to focus on deep breaths as I dig through my bag and present the mailman with my work tag. The old man sighs but still digs through the back of his van and hands me a huge envelope of what I suppose has to be some important documents. 1 sign his papers, thank the man and walk to the stairs out the front of the building. Once I reach them, I collapse on the steps. My breathing was as heavy and rapid as it was when I caught the mailman. And yet, even now, I don’t care that I might look homeless I just ran down an entire street, all the way down here in panic. They could give me a damn break.

Once I’m sure I can stand up without fainting or throwing up, I move towards the doors I saw the security staff unlock a couple of minutes ago.

As I enter the building, I show the security guard my employee ID, and he lets me through. I ignore the odd look he gives me and hurry toward the elevators.

When I get to my floor, I walk around, turning on all the lights. Then I turn toward my desk and power up my computer. Setting the envelope of documents on the edge of my desk, I dig through my bag for a hairbrush and the small set of makeup I carry around for emergencies. Such as this.

into a bun on top of my head. Satisfied with my appearance, I move to the kitchenette, where I get their mugs ready and prepare them for the boss’s morning coffee while making one for myself too. I dump two teaspoons of coffee in my mug and grin-this much I’ve earned after the awful morning I had. Fuck, I hate running more than I hate

gulp down a few mouthfuls of the warm juice of gods, I can

my cup back to my desk and focus on checking all the work emails. I send the important ones to their tablets and desktops. Once I’m done with emails, I check their meeting schedules and equip the conference

about to make

trash and take his mug to the toilet, giving it a rise inside the toilet bowl. Snickering to myself, I flip off the cameras in the hallway. God, I hope they don’t

CCR those.

back to the kitchenette and use a paper towel to dry his mug before I walk

mug, I set about to make the coffee when I gasp. Fuck! It’s the wrong mug! The golden lettering I mistook for T was actually

detail and mess up such a noticeable

mistake when I

that if I wash the mug in front of Rhen, he might suspect my doings. What’s done is done;

one by one, retrieving their coffees, and Leon plucks his mug

Oh, that means there will be no ‘good

about messing

I stutter out, and he

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