~Sara~I’m late.I don’t care what the clock says.I’m late.My heels hit the polished floor in an uneven rhythm as I rush toward the conference room, my heart pounding hard.Thirty minutes.Who gives someone thirty minutes like it’s a countdown to execution?I stop right in front of the glass doors and take a deep breath, steadying my nerves.Voices filter from inside. Low. Careful. Measured, like speaking any louder would damn them all.My fingers tighten around the handle.This is it, Sara.I push the door open.And step in.Silence.The whole room turns to me.Fuck.“Hi,” I mutter, raising an arm awkwardly.They blink back at me, their gazes wide, like they haven’t the faintest idea who I am or what I could possibly be doing here.I don’t blame them. Not everybody can pull off great fashion after being summoned to work in thirty minutes.Jeremy’s mom’s clothes are not exactly what you’d call… work clothes.White blazer paired with green cargo pants and white heels?Hey, at least S
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