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Mr. Henley, is one of the top experts in the world and is a man known to do anything, and I mean anything , to keep his people safe. I respect his sense of purpose.
    Nate is more badass than Mr. Blaine and Mr. Henley combined. My favorite CFO might follow rules, but they are his rules. He wants to pay for sex? He pays for sex, potential jail time be damned. He wants to fuck a green-haired rebel chick in the company elevator? He fucks a green-haired rebel chick in the company elevator. Screw the security cameras.
    I open the electronic report and adjust one of the values in the expense form. All of the totals change, requiring me to reprint and reconfirm the numbers. I march over to the printer, grab the paper, and return to my seat.
    The executives aren’t a bad bunch and I could even put up with nasty people like Jerome and the pinch-faced lady. It’s the excessive rules that drive me batty. We have to wear dark suits. We must start work at eight o’clock. We can’t access certain areas, including the stairwells, the entire fourth floor, and Nate’s locked office.
    I spot Mr. Henley as the big man lumbers down the hallway, his head, neck, and shoulders visible over the cubicle walls. He has an ominous frown on his scarred face.
    I hunch over the expense reports, hiding from him. If he can’t find me he can’t fire me. That’s my theory.
    The door to Miss Yen’s office closes. Closed-door meetings never impart good news. I check off expense totals as I confirm them.
    My phone buzzes. I glance at the small screen. Nate has sent me an invitation for the noon meeting, the subject being customer satisfaction. I mark the meeting as tentative, not knowing if I’ll have a job in four hours. Less than a minute later the meeting status is changed to mandatory.
    I laugh. Nate is a bossy, bossy man, and he’s thinking about me.
    The pinch-faced lady hisses at me, my work neighbor irritated by my happiness. I dig my lunch out of my backpack—the curry Jerome, the security guard, contaminated—and open the lid, allowing the fragrant spices to escape.
    My nemesis hisses even louder, sounding as though she has an air leak. I replace the lid, my mission accomplished, and focus on the expense reports. I have one more set to verify and I want to complete this task before I get fired.
    Miss Yen’s office door opens. I work faster, totaling the last column in record time.
    “Green,” my boss yells mere seconds after I set the last expense report on the top of the pile. The pinch-faced lady cackles. She knows I’m in big trouble.
    I dump my entire lunch into the wastebasket, put the empty container in my backpack, and trudge to my boss’ office. “You wanted to see me, Miss Yen?”
    “No, I don’t want to see you, but I have to see you, don’t I?” Miss Yen bows her body over her desk, rubbing her temples, appearing defeated. “Sit.” First I break Nate. Now I’ve broken the dragon lady. I don’t know whether to be proud or dismayed.
    I fill the nearest guest chair and lean back, stretching my legs. Past experience has taught me that being fired takes a long time. I might as well get comfortable.
    “What is your relationship with Mr. Lawford?” Miss Yen lifts her head and meets my gaze.
    My body temperature drops. She’s found out about Nate and me. “Mr. Lawford is Blaine Technologies’ CFO,” I quip, buying time as I figure out a game plan. My job is a goner, but I might be able to save Nate’s position.
    “Drop the innocent act, Green.” Miss Yen leans toward me. “There are security cameras in the shredding room.”
    “Oh.” I chew on my bottom lip, thinking quickly. “It’s all my fault.” I take the blame.
    “I know who is responsible.” Miss Yen shakes her head. “In the eight years I’ve known Mr. Lawford, he has never acted inappropriately.”
    I stare at Miss Yen. She doesn’t know about the escorts. She believes his squeaky-clean Iceman image.
    “There was also a transfer of money caught