I follow him as he walks down a short hallway and into a large open area. There are desks all around and computer screens everywhere. People are talking to one another, and there’s an energy around the room that’s not quite excitement, but close. People say hello to Henry as we walk across the expanse, and he greets them all by name. I can tell this man loves his company but also cares about his employees.

The department takes up one floor, and that space has been opened up so information can be easily shared. It’s definitely not made for privacy, but in a security department, there’s no room for that.

There’s an office on the far side of the room that’s raised up a little. At least, I think it’s an office. One wall is made of glass and the double doors are currently wide open. Closing them could offer sound privacy, but with the way it’s situated, there’s no way the person behind the computer could blink without someone knowing it.

Henry is as tall as I am, at six two, and so I can’t see past him to who’s in the office. What I do see is when his shoulders stiffen as he gets to the doors and knocks.

“Hey, Panny, I stopped by to introduce you to the consultant. Remember?”

“I told you about calling me that at work, Casanova,” an unseen woman retorts.

He sighs and steps aside, holding out his hand. “Royce Davenport, I’d like to introduce you to Pandora Justice, head of security at Osbourne Corporation.”

I look over and see a small woman bent over a computer and not even looking up at us. I want to laugh at her balls. She clearly doesn’t give a fuck. I have to bite my bottom lip as Henry clears his throat to get her attention.

“Almost finished.” Her hands click over her keyboard at a crazy speed, and after about thirty seconds, she stops and stands up. “If you could get me more people in here who can code, instead of idiot rent-a-cops who passed a two-hour course on mall safety, my floor would function a hell of a lot better.”

Henry rubs his eyes and then looks at Pandora with pleading eyes. “Pan—”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Justice,” I say, holding out my hand, wanting to find out if she’s married.

“Pandora. Mrs. Justice is my mom.”

She takes it without hesitation, and I feel her firm grip meet mine. She’s not trying to hurt me, and it doesn’t feel exaggerated. Her hand feels strong in mine. This isn’t a show where she’s trying to seem tough. She actually is. I expected it to be soft and delicate, but her grasp feels like that of an athlete. The strength in her arm and her stance tells me that she’s not afraid of me. Or anything.

It’s a small touch, and I’ve sized her up with all my assumptions in one basket. And yet somehow I know I’ve got her all wrong. She’s showing me who she is, but I have no clue where to begin. I’ve never met a woman so overwhelming. I’m drowning in her, and for a moment my head swims.