Gerald's POV
A quiet exhale escaped my lips as I watched the manager retreat from my office doorway, his nervous energy finally dissipating once he disappeared down the hallway. The interruption had shattered what felt like genuine progress between Camilla and me. For the first time in weeks, she had seemed relaxed, her usual guardedness softened just enough to let me glimpse the woman beneath all those carefully constructed barriers.
"Right," I said, pushing away from my desk where I had been leaning. "Since we got cut off." My eyes found hers, noting how she was already smoothing down her blouse and fixing her hair. That nervous habit of hers never failed to surface when something caught her off guard. "Why don't we pick this up at your place later?"
Her eyebrows shot up, surprise flickering across her features. "At my house?" The way she said it made it sound like I had suggested something outrageous.
