A glance at my phone while waiting for the crosswalk light to change and I saw I was almost an hour late. An hour? This was a new personal best for me. I tried not to freak out. Soph was always pretty chill about my tendency to be late, but at this rate I’d be lucky to get there before Lexi. I pulled out my phone to see if there were any messages from her. There was nothing. Maybe I was okay.

I dashed across the street and rushed into the building. I strode across the rose quartz floor, waving to the security guards, Curtis and Hector, as I passed by.

“Morning, Annabelle,” Hector called. He was ninety if he was a minute, and he reminded me of a peanut in the shell with his bald, wrinkled head and big ears. His grin was brilliant, however, and it managed to light up the lobby.

“Buenos día, mis amigos,” I called. Hector had been coaching me with my Spanish, and his grin widened at my effort, which I’m sure was terrible but he seemed pleased. Curtis, who never spoke, waved. He didn’t have to speak. He was young and had the solid build of an armored car. No one messed with Curtis.

“Pasa buen día,” Hector called after me.

The elevator doors opened and I ducked inside. I turned and hit the button for the fifth floor, moving aside for the person I felt stepping in behind me.

“Late again, Annabelle? Tsk tsk tsk. I’ve already had two meetings this morning while you’re sprinting in an hour late. What will the bosses say?”

Crap. Of course it was Carson who stepped in behind me. Sadly, no one else did, leaving me to ride all the way up to the fifth floor trapped with him.

“You really don’t seem to value this job very much,” he said.

I ignored him. Bullies hate that. I pretended to be looking for something in my bag. I was doing such a good job, I missed it when he put his hand on the wall behind my shoulder and leaned in, forcing me back.

“You’re going to fail probation,” he said. “You’re always late, you forget clients and accounts. Face it, your work is subpar and you’re not cut out to be creative director.” His eyes had a mean glint in them. “And you lied about bringing in a major new client, admit it.”

Don’t show any emotion. Don’t show any emotion. I repeated the words in my head like a mantra. I just had to get to the fifth floor, so I could get away from him. He reeked of a high-end cologne, the sort that suffocated, and his shiny shoes, creased slacks, and crisp shirt all sported designer labels as if he needed the names of others to assert his own worth.

“Well? Nothing to say for yourself?” he taunted.