The only sound in the room was the click, click, clicking of her fingers on the keyboard. Out of his peripheral vision he watched her sitting behind her desk, her back straight, staring at her computer with her dark hair falling in waves around her face. “I know you’re mad,” she repeated, her eyes still glued to her screen. Again? Did they really have to do this again? In the last twenty-four hours they’d had this same exact conversation at least a dozen times. Verbatim. “I’m not mad, I’m worki—” “You’re working,” Maxi cut in as she looked up. “Bullshit.” That was new. “Excuse me?” Maxi lifted her arms in obvious frustration. “If you have something to say, you should just say it.” He remained silent. There was nothing else to say. He’d said his piece, she didn’t agree. End of story. “I don’t have time for this.” She stood from behind her desk and walked around it. “The meet and greet is in thirty minutes and Ricco’s still adding people to the guest list, which I’m having to clear with personnel.
