Chapter 59. Plotting, Plotting

‘The best-laid schemes o' Mice an' Men, Gang aft agley. And leave us naught but grief and pain, For promised joy!’ (To A Mouse) by Robert Burns.

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AMANDA

The grim expression on Robert's face when I walked into his office was unsurprising.

He was standing in front of his desk, one hand on it, and the other against the edge, drumming impatiently.

I could tell he wasn't thrilled about my visit by the tenseness in his muscles and the way his jaw ticked. But I didn't mind.

“Amanda—“ As I approached the desk, he greeted me coldly, and I took a seat, placing my small clutch purse on the cool wooden surface and flipping my hair sideways.

“Robert…” I replied smugly, and he raised an eyebrow at me, "What do you want?"

His tone held an undertone of irritation, as if he didn't appreciate my presence here at all and that I was well aware of.

However, I did not respond right away. Instead, I used a few moments of silence to look aro