Chapter 8

The office entrance had a raving mad woman who refused to be consoled or placated. From the front door, her voice could be heard over the humming of the paper shredder down the hall. The front desk lady, a petite little thing, was trying her best to calm the raging woman, and frankly, “her best” wasn’t going to cut it.

Smith simply nodded at the lady in greeting and pretended not to understand the pleading gaze she was sending his way. He wasn’t ready to be sucked into any bitch drama that early in his day. As a matter of fact, if he considered his episode with the blond, he’d had his share for the day—or maybe the week, depending on how he decided to spend the weekend.

The first thing Smith noticed when he got to his cubicle was that it was tidy. Most of the things had been set right, and a single folder now sat at the center of the desk, a clear message.

He turned to look at Teddy, who, for a change, was not scowling at his phone.

“Good morning, Smith,” Ted