the counter looked like a café experiment gone wrong.
Catherine shrieked.
Ethan ran from his office.
He stopped in the kitchen doorway.
Catherine stood with foam on her sleeve, Riley held defensively in front of her.
“The machine attacked first.”
Ethan stared.
One second.
Two.
Then he laughed.
Not a polite little laugh.
Not the controlled sound Catherine had heard from him before.
He actually laughed.
He leaned against the counter and covered his mouth.
Catherine looked offended.
“You have no loyalty.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You do not sound sorry.”
“I’m
not.”
She grabbed a towel.
“You are a terrible employer.”
“You flooded my shoes on your first day.”
“That was panic.”
“You blamed a rug.”
“The evidence was strong.”
Ethan took another towel and helped wipe down the counter.
Their hands nearly touched.
Both stopped.
Something quiet passed between them.
Catherine looked away first.
Then Ethan’s phone rang.
He checked the screen.
His expression changed instantly.
The warmth disappeared.
“Brooke,” he said.
Catherine pretended not to notice.
The next afternoon, Brooke Anderson arrived without an appointment.
She was thirty-two, polished,
