It’s about to be David versus Goliath, and I left my slingshot in my other pencil skirt. “Tess! Goddamn it, will you just talk to me?” Troy shouts. I jerk open my office door, desperate to put a wall between us and the secretaries before he tears into me. I can’t bear to let other people see me cry, and I don’t think I can hold these angry tears back much longer. Slamming my tablet and coffee down, my chest heaves as I pant for breath. I look down at my hands splayed against the dark, polished wood of my executive desk. I can feel Troy sucking up all the air behind me as my office door clicks
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