“What?” she cried. “He didn’t.”

“He did, and when I called him on it, he said it was because I was clearly up for a partnership with you and Miguel and would be moving up,” I said.

“But that’s—he’s—ugh.” Soph slumped in her chair.

“Also, I couldn’t help but think it was very interesting that he said that he and Miguel go back to their time at ASU together, and yet Carson was not at your wedding. I would have remembered. So want to tell me what’s going on?” I asked.

She looked like she was about to. She even opened her mouth to speak, but then she shook her head. “I’ll have Miguel talk to him. If he ever says anything that makes you uncomfortable, please let me know immediately.”

I studied her for a moment. “Uncomfortable how?”

“Oh, not in a sexual harassment sort of way,” she said. “He’s not like that, but he can be . . . I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Hard to pin it down, full of backhanded compliments that really aren’t, and insults that are passed off as jokes?” I asked.

“Exactly,” she said. She glanced around the room and leaned in closer. “It’s like he doesn’t say things that are in my face mean and yet I still get a negative vibe from him. And he wasn’t at our wedding because I planned it for a weekend when I knew he had to be in his brother’s wedding.”

“Genius,” I said.

“Well, I couldn’t have that sort of negativity on my big day,” she said.

“I get that,” I said. “Any idea what it is he wants? Other than my job?”

She was quiet for a moment and then said, “Maybe. Listen, I don’t want to put you in a tough spot, but could you do me a favor and document anything that seems significant, particularly in regards to the work?”

Anxiety flitted across her face like the shadows made from fast-moving clouds. I wanted to tell her she could talk to me, but I didn’t want to push her. Hopefully, she and Miguel could resolve whatever issue Carson had and we could all move on.

“Yeah, I can do that,” I said.

“Thanks.” She smiled and I could tell she was relieved, knowing I’d have her back.

I tucked into my salad, feeling marginally better about things. My instincts about Carson had been correct, and I knew this meant I needed to be cautious around him.