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utched a worn leather folder tightly to her chest - the last remaining fragment of her past life. Inside were the blueprints she had painstakingly designed. Though the paper itself was light
ception desk. "Excuse me, I.
p of junior executives, whose weekly earnings likely exceeded what she made in three
however, only glan
the counter. Someo
id no more. As she set down the cardboard coffee tray, her hand trembled, and scalding cof
cheeks burning with shame. The mocking stares around
ve. I'll
celebrity. Not the model from the covers of business magazines, but the man himself. He wore a perfectly tailored dark gray suit that seemed
not loo
efficiency, and wiped away the stain in one gentle stroke. Then he folded the scarf neat
et her eyes. He turned and walked toward th
if helping her had been nothing more than a casual afterthought. She grabbed
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