Nothing is gentle about the way I shove to my feet, the chair rolling behind me until it bumps against the wall.
I’m doing this now so my gall can’t be meddled with.
Quickly yet coolly, I gather my things, tucking the paper inside my bra before I walk out of my office. I’m fully aware of the supermarket Grant is talking about. Him and I stop there often to grab a quick lunch. I think I’ve even met Jenna before.
I go to the elevator, preparing for what’s about to happen. The one thing I notice is that there isn’t a gentle “no” telling me not to do this.
Warnings that this is wrong and to reconsider are nil.
Nothing.
I have no inner voice today.
Thank God. I found it rather annoying, anyway.