Chapter 4 - Whispers at the OfficeBy Monday morning, the corporate headquarters of Harrison Financial was buzzing with rumors about the annual celebration.
Mark walked into the glass tower at 8:00 AM, his leather briefcase in hand, feeling an unfamiliar knot of anxiety in his stomach. He had dropped Lily off at school, kissed her cheek, and promised her a weekend trip to the science museum to make up for missing the first ten minutes of her dance performance on Friday night.
As he walked past the cubicles toward the financial analysis department, he noticed the hushed conversations instantly dying down.
Trevor, a chatty senior analyst who sat two cubicles down, leaned over the partition with a smirk. “Well, well. Look who made a dramatic exit on Friday.”
Mark didn't look up from booting his computer. “I had family obligations, Trevor.”
“Right, family obligations,” Trevor chuckled lower. “Is that what we’re calling it now? Word on the street is Julian Vance was telling everyone you practically tackled him on the balcony to get to Prescott.”
Mark’s hand froze on his mouse. “Julian was drunk and out of line. I cleared a path for the department head to leave.”
“Sure, buddy,” Trevor whispered, leaning closer. “Just be careful. Prescott was absent all weekend. She canceled two executive strategy calls this morning. Nobody has seen her like that before. If she thinks you’re bragging about helping her, she’ll crush your career without blinking.”
Mark’s jaw tightened. “I don't brag, Trevor. Now let me get back to work.”
At 10:30 AM, Mark’s internal phone line rang. The caller ID displayed a number he knew all too well: Prescott, E. - Executive Suite.
He picked up the receiver, his heart pounding against his ribs. “Mark Wilson.”
“Mark,” Elaine’s voice came through the line. It was back to its crisp, professional tone, but there was a subtle tremor underneath if one knew how to listen. “Please step into my office. Bring the Q3 projection files.”
“On my way,” Mark said.
May you like
He gathered the folders, adjusted his navy tie, and walked up the carpeted stairs to the executive floor. The corner office overlooked the city skyline, wrapped in floor-to-ceiling glass.
When Mark pushed the heavy mahogany door open, Elaine was sitting behind her glass desk. She wore an immaculate midnight-blue pantsuit, her hair styled back into a flawless bun. But when she raised her eyes to meet his, the memory of her in his kitchen, wearing Sarah’s clothes and asking if they had slept together, hung heavily between them.
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