The email from Sebastian Sinclair's chief of staff glowed on my screen, making my heart race. Seven o'clock. A car coming to pick me up. The day stretched ahead like an eternity.
I tried focusing on my work, but my mind kept drifting to Sebastian and the bracelet now adorning my wrist. Why had he helped me? What would he want in return?
"You're sighing every five minutes," Cherry observed, dropping a stack of fabric swatches on my desk. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I lied, fidgeting with my pen.
"It's about Mr. Sinclair, isn't it?" She leaned forward, lowering her voice despite us being alone. "Everyone's talking about what happened at the auction."
"I thought the video disappeared."
"The internet has memory, even when content vanishes." Cherry tapped her temple. "People saw what happened. They just can't find proof anymore."
I glanced at the clock: only ten in the morning. Nine more hours until I'd face Sebastian.
