Twenty minutes later Amber’s still not back at her desk. Kirk’s door is still closed, the damn radio in there turned up louder than ever and the rest of us trying to ignore it. Through the open door of my office I can see Charity lean over to whisper something to Evan. Whatever she says makes him blush, and Charity starts up that annoying little giggle of hers…that alone makes me think she’s still talking about me.
Evan turns back to his computer, shoulders hunched, as if Charity’s words weigh him down. I feel bad for the poor boy. Would it be so bad to take him in my arms and kiss away the color in his cheeks? Or smooth out the lines in his brow? Or hell, while I’m at it, smack Charity upside the head for picking on him so relentlessly? Leave him alone, I want to say, but knowing the wom
