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.

“If you need to sit down, there’s a chair. I don’t want you to fall over and bleed on my desk,” she says as she pulls her hand from mine.

I’m sorry, but did she not just feel the earth stop moving?

I clear my throat and straighten my suit. My hair is cut short, and I can feel the cool air on the back of my neck just above my collar. I focus on that instead of the blood rushing to my ears.

“You’ll have to excuse Royce. We’ve been in the boardroom all day. I promised him lunch, and I knew that was the only way I could get you out of your office,” Henry says.

There’s a low-lying threat to his statement, and for half a second I think Pandora is going to challenge it.

“Fine, Casanova. But I get to pick the appetizers.”

They stare at one another, and for a moment I can picture them as children having this same discussion. Something green and angry rises in my chest at the banter these two have. Their inside jokes are irritating me and I feel excluded.

“Maybe I could have lunch one on one with Mrs.—” She snaps back to me with her deep blue eyes, and I correct myself. “Pandora. I think we’ve gone over enough for today, Henry. I can email you the rest of what we discussed, and I can handle the remainder here.”

There’s relief in his eyes as he smiles and shakes my hand. “Perfect. I’ll speak to you tomorrow,” he says, and nearly bolts out of the office before Pandora can protest.

“It’s hard to respect your boss when you saw him poop his pants when he was six.” She shrugs and grabs the bag hanging on the back of her chair. “Never work with family.”

The warning somehow makes the green-eyed monster in my chest calm down, and I finally have a better understanding of the situation.

“I didn’t realize you were related,” I say, following closely behind her.