Cammy had arrived at the office just as the sun peeked over the city skyline, determined to clear the mountain of unfinished work before she left for Arlon. She dove into the tasks with such focused determination that time slipped through her fingers like sand in a storm.
Before she knew it, the clock was nearing noon, the buzz of the outside world breaking into her cocoon of concentration.
"Cammy," a voice called out sharply, snapping her from the glow of her computer screen.
She turned to find Harry standing by her desk, a furrow etched deep between his brows. "Where's Greg?"
Startled, Cammy flicked her eyes to the time on her monitor and scrambled for her phone, her heart thudding uneasily in her chest. No messages. No missed calls at that hour.
Before she could respond, Mila, Greg's secretary, answered with her usual crispness, "Mr. Cross will be late. He called in earlier and canceled all his morning appointments. He said he'll be here by lunchtime."
