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.

I move to the kitchenette, where I get their mugs ready and

warm juice of gods, I can feel the caffeinated beverage warm my soul. There’s nothing better

the important ones to their tablets and desktops. Once I’m done with emails, I check their meeting schedules and equip the conference room down the

kitchenette, I’m about to make their coffees when a childish, evil thought creeps into my

dump his coffee in the trash and take his mug to the toilet, giving it

CCR those.

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

make the coffee when I gasp. Fuck! It’s the wrong mug!

I miss that detail and mess up

fix my stupid mistake when I stop in my tracks when I

in first and retrieves his mug as my heart hammers against my ribcage. I quickly make Leon’s coffee, fully aware that if I wash the mug in front of Rhen, he might suspect my doings. What’s done

plucks his mug from

be no ‘good morning sunshine now? I’ll show him!

about messing

my desk,” I stutter out, and he

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