Even with Tory and Christina roped into other meetings (it is a Wednesday and the workday chugs on, despite my drama), the usually empty lobby feels congested with Graeme, Walsh, and me filling the small seating area next to the conference room. Sadie, the front desk receptionist, frowns. She’s probably used to a bit more peace and quiet.

Two executive board members stride through the lobby toward the largest conference room, and one of them is Renata. Her gray-streaked hair gleams under the lights, her soft yet commanding voice trailing her as she disappears into the conference room. Three more executives follow.

I bounce my heel. A minute later, James enters the lobby. Every muscle in my body tenses and I glare at the squat, self-satisfied snake of a man.

When he catches sight of me, a frown flickers across his face but quickly vanishes. He detours over to us, lip curling. “Henley.” He sniffs, giving me a once-over, gaze lingering on my incongruous shoes. “I thought you were taking a personal day.”

“I am. I’m just giving my sister a tour,” I lie smoothly.

Walsh hops up, a fake smile plastered on her face. “Hi, I’m Walsh. You must be Henley’s boss. I’ve heard so much about you.” She titters. “My, that’s an interesting tie. My grandpa has one just like it.”

I suppress a savage bark of laughter. Walsh is the queen of insulting people without them quite catching on that they were insulted.

His gaze flicks to Graeme and he pulls a double-take. “Graeme, is that you?”

Graeme surveys him coolly.

“Graeme Crawford-Collins, you didn’t tell me you were in town.” He extends his hand and Graeme takes it, jaw as hard as marble. His knuckles turn white and James twists his much smaller hand out of Graeme’s grip. He shakes it with a nervous chuckle. “Quite a handshake. Why are you sitting here with Henley?”

“She’s giving me a tour too.”

“Good work, Henley. That’s the kind of attitude I like to see.” He swivels to address Graeme again. “Are you around tomorrow? If so, have Barbara schedule a meeting. I’d like to discuss the next steps for your promotion—relocation and finding you administrative support. Maybe Henley here can help you out in the meantime. You wouldn’t mind, would you, Henley?”

I use every ounce of restraint not to throw myself at him like a jaguar attacking a mouse. Instead, I force myself to smile. I show all my teeth. “Whatever you say, boss.”

“That’s the spirit,” he says, squeezing my shoulder. My gut churns at the contact and I nearly hurl when his touch lingers several seconds too long. Finally, he slips his hand down my arm. I imagine his fingers leaving a trail of slime like a slug.

He walks into the conference room, smirking.

Graeme stares after him, every muscle tense. “That dirtbag.”

I grunt in agreement.