The cuffs of the shirt were rolled up, and the collar was opened very low. That was the spare shirt I kept in the office lounge for emergencies."Mr. Keaton, you're here."But Emmett didn't get up. Instead, he just flashed me a brilliant smile. "Ms. Carrington said you weren't feeling well, so she asked me to help organize your files first."As he spoke, he deliberately waved the cup in his hand. "This cup is really pretty. Ms. Carrington said I can have it. You won't mind, right?"I stared at him, the suffocating pressure from my mysophobia making my fingertips go numb."Put it down," I said, my voice icy.As if startled, Emmett's hand jerked. The scalding coffee poured straight onto the financing proposal I'd just printed out last night. The brown liquid instantly spread across the papers, ruining three consecutive all-nighters' worth of my work."Oh, no! I'm so sorry!"He jumped up in a panic, babbling apologies, but his eyes sparkled with provocation.Colleagues around us
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