Favorite Blog: CUMFIESTA CUM FIESTA finally did enter the room he did it so quietly and so coldly that I knew something was wrong. I'd much rather that he'd yelled and slammed doors. The stony, blank-faced Daniel was infinitely more frightening.
"Perhaps," he said softly, closing the office door with a quiet click. "You would like to explain to me just what the hell happened today?"
"D-didn't Maddock tell you?" I gasped. I watched Daniel with caution, afraid to spark his ire further.
"Oh, I've heard what Maddock has to say on the subject, Clara, but I'd like to hear your side of the story. And I suggest you tell it well."
I considered his handsome, expressionless face, trying to find some glimmer of warmth in his blue-grey eyes. There was none. The first time I opened my mouth, no sound came out of it. I had to fight the urge to get up and bolt from the room, anything but face another second of Daniel's inscrutable gaze.
Somehow the words happened. In a rush I told Daniel all about my early morning run-in with Lawrence Mallory in the elevator, about how rude I'd been to him, how sarcastic and condescending. I hadn't thought anything of it at the time, it had all seemed so trite, but these things always have a way of coming back to bite me in the ass. Bad karma, I suppose.
How I was to know Lawrence Mallory worked for the land developer? That I'd ever have to have any dealings with him in a professional sense? And when he walked into that boardroom, I'd been prepared to be completely professional with him -- to ignore our little unpleasantries in the elevator -- but he hadn't extended me the same courtesy. I didn't know what I should have said to Maddock about it afterwards, so I said nothing.
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