My Ghost Husband Is My Billionaire Boss

, echoing with the hushed, nervous energy of a hundred employees. Clarice stood

uarters means you've made it,

anch who'd also been transferred. He'd asked her

" she replied, her voice calm, her

l over the lobby.

all the air out of the space. He was tall, dressed in a custom-tailored dark gray suit that fit him like a second

ienting and powerful wave of familiarity washed over her, so strong it f

lace the face, yet she could not

yes narrowing as they found hers. It was a brief, dismissive glance, but it

her cheeks burning. Her heart

nything to do with her? It made no sense. She must have miss

nto a private elevator. The lobby slowly

other new colleague, murmured to her kindly. "

fice, came down to the administrative floor. She announced that Mr. Sinclair required

others were led into a gla

presence dominating the room. His special assistant,

led under the pressure. David Tucker, however, tried a different tactic. He stepped forward with a confident smirk. "Sir, my name is David.

He didn't even grant him a full response, simply cutting him off

id froze, his smirk faltering before he scu

sweat. But years of forcing herself to be calm and competent took over. She met his gaze

. He picked up her resume, his gaze stopping for a

swirled in her gut again. That feeling... th

led out of the room to await the dec

han turned to his boss. "Mr. S

. A faint, almost imperceptible echo in the back of his mind. He couldn't place it, and

eyes, even under the full force of his pressure. She hadn't flinched, hadn't embellished. Her answers were precise, efficie

ce flat, tapping the re

a moment. "Based on her f

olan cut in, his tone leaving no room f