Lila
Three weeks. Three weeks with barely a dozen words spoken between them in private.
Dane was running from her. He had avoided her like she had a communicable disease. Ever since the night she'd shown up at his door, he'd arranged every meeting they would both attend to make sure it would include others, kept her on the phone when things had to be private—she was even pretty sure he'd pretended his cellphone was breaking up once when she'd tried to force him to talk because she was afraid it was the only opportunity she'd get.
Now it had been three whole weeks and she was getting frantic. They had staff meetings together, and she caught glimpses of him around the office, but he always had his door shut, and usually had others in there with him when he was around. And he'd taken to working outside the office a lot more.
