She gave an inward sigh of relief, allowing some of her distress to dissolve. Father’s career talks turned back the clock, and suddenly she was closer to seven than twenty-seven. Enjoying the reprieve, she relaxed into her seat and studied the client. He sat sideways, elbow propped on the table, large hand covering most of his face as he talked with her father. There was something familiar in the set of the client’s broad shoulders and his inky black hair.
Her father faced the room, pulling her gaze from the stranger to the wall clock. Yup, ten on the dot. A meeting never started late.
She glanced back at the client and choked on an exhale, her heart plummeting. He’d dropped his hand and was facing forward.
It can’t be him.
Her heart skipped with joy. Then promptly flooded with dread.
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