Madison
The workday passed in a blur of meetings, phone calls, and emails. I split my time between my PA duties outside Alexander's office and my project manager responsibilities downstairs, juggling both roles with increasing confidence. The Manhattan Project was gaining momentum, with Herbert Hayes proving to be an invaluable addition to the team.
By six o'clock, I was back at my desk outside Alexander's office, finishing up some correspondence, when my phone buzzed with a text.
Alexander: Done for the day. Meet me in the garage in 10.
I frowned at my screen. No "please," no explanation of where we were going. Just a command, as usual. I considered texting back something snarky but decided against it. Instead, I shut down my computer and gathered my things.
In the elevator down to the garage, I checked my reflection in the mirrored walls, smoothing a hand over my hair.
Alexander was waiting by his car, his suit jacket draped over one arm, tie loosened, and sleeves rolled up to
