Chapter 7

"Miss Mark," Hames called. "The Manager of 'Friz and co.' will be here in a few minutes. I hope everything is ready?"

"Uh— yeah, sure." I scratched my arm, dropping the files on his table. "I'll send the remaining part of it to your email."

He hummed a response. His fingers drummed on his laptop keys really fast, forming the beat of a song.

Seriously? He hadn't said a thing about last Saturday. He was really going to ignore it? I felt his gaze on me so I raised my head to stare at him.

"What do you want?" He questioned crankily.

"Nothing." I shook my head.