Mark Tremont never did turn toward her direction. He just melted into the gathering crowd.
A morose smile shadowed her pale lips. She wanted to not be seen, did she not? It was for the best, she told herself. That embrace in the club? Forget it. It was for the best.
At the highest floor of the block, flanked by his company’s higher-ups, Mark visited every department in the building in turns. Behind those glasses, dour eyes coated in a thin film of frost scaled his nervous employees. While they did their best to ensure no slips came to pass.
Narrowly after ordering two cups of coffee through Messenger, Nick’s periphery vision caught Mark approaching his direction. He quickly placed his phone down and went back to work His superior had already informed him earlier that the boss was coming today. If Mark found him fiddling with his phone, Nick would lose his job right there and then.
His fortune, however, took a dip. When Mark was passing by Nick’s aisle, the steely man suddenly stopped and grouched, “This walkway is too narrow.”
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