The next morning, I’m already at my desk when Kirk stumbles into my office. He looks like he dressed in the dark, his hair in desperate need of a comb. “Does Amber seriously let you out of the house looking like that?” I ask.
Kirk slugs back his coffee and grimaces. “Where are those reports you ran for me?”
It’s too early for his s**t. “On your desk. Where else would I put them?”
Kirk leans against my door and stumbles when it swings back beneath his weight. “What time did you guys leave last night?”
With a shrug, I stare at my monitor and avoid his harsh gaze. “Eight or so. We ordered pizza. Hope you don’t mind—I put it on the company card. I figure it’s your fault we had to stay late in the first place.”
Kirk glances over his shoulder at Evan’s desk, which is curiously empty. Taking
