8

Zephyra's POV

It was Monday, and I sat on the beautiful yet uncomfortable leather couch outside Lirael’s office, trying not to fidget. My heart hammered against my ribcage, and nervous sweat dampened my skin. Lirael’s PA, a young man who introduced himself as Samson, eyed me from across the space, and I wondered if he could tell how nervous I was.

He picked up his phone, glanced at me, said something, and hung up. “You can go in, Miss Zane.”

I smiled my thanks at him, then stood, smoothing down my gray pencil skirt. With Freya’s help, I had paired it with a cream sleeveless blouse with delicate little buttons running down the front of it. Black strappy heels finished off the look. As Freya put it, the outfit was classy, while still doing a fantastic job of highlighting my curves.

Professional with a hint of sexy. Perfect to give me the confidence I needed to face this uncomfortable situation.

Samson gave me a slightly concerned look, and I realized I had ground to a halt, standing fro