Camilla's POV
"So, do you have any other questions?" he asked, his fingers expertly spinning a silver pen between his knuckles like he'd done it a thousand times before.
Questions about his company? Not really. Questions about what happened between us last night? Absolutely. But asking those things here, under the harsh office lighting with his cold stare boring into me, felt impossible. I simply shook my head and kept my lips sealed tight. Better to stay quiet.
"Does this mean you're offering me the position? And if so, when would I begin?" I managed to ask, fighting to sound professional and detached.
"Tomorrow," he answered, placing the pen down with a soft tap against the desk. "Use today to prepare yourself properly. Press your clothes and do something decent with your hair instead of whatever this is." His eyes swept over my disheveled appearance, lingering on my messy hair. Though his voice stayed level, his words cut deep.
