Too Late For My CEO's Regret

, but her hands were shaking so ba

ross her desk, soaking the

ls from the dispenser. She dabbed frantically at the mess. The smel

d, leaning over the partitio

. She took the wipes, her fingers

to scrub away the image of Bridge

inked. A notification

fice of

estructuri

me. Bridger Jennings. The letter

pped back. F

. The air was crisp, smelling of woodsmoke and old books.

fierce. "I don't care about the trust fund,

been young and stupid and so

ds that had echoed in her mind for years. "Maybe you're not worth the fight, Gracia. Maybe

op shut. The sound echo

he saw stars. That boy was dead. The man upstairs was a

xwe

snapped her to attention. Brenda dropp

files. I need them digit

. It was hours of work. Mi

p my daughter at six," Gr

obs in this climate," Brenda said, not even looki

She thought of the medical bil

the air was filtered an

ants crawling along the sidewalk. He held a crystal tumb

eting," he said, n

tablet. "It's ready, sir. We've identified the

ia Maxwe

s. She's listed for termination. Her attendance is spotty

. It was cold, but it didn'

re cons

with someone else, building a life, was a spike of ice in his gut. The betr

ce, his mind a storm of resentment. He remembered the silence. The blocked calls. The way she

the desk, the sound a dull

f the list,"

ofessional mask slippi

rd me. K

er met

dger said, his voice dropping to a da

e mistake she had made. He wanted to see the regret in h

stant turned to leave. "Make sure she k

bicle, Gracia'

dma says the blue p

unt app. The balance was thr

had left. Overtime meant time-and-a-half

the screen was the only thing illuminating h