he looked at her with a smile before nodding and going back to the work, his fingers playing with the chip in his hand before throwing it up in the air and catching it in his mouth. he could count on his ands how many times she smiled since he met her. and he wasn’t talking about the way she smiled for the camera for the papers. no, he wasn’t talking about the photos of her online, he was talking about in person. at him. “you know–i don’t technically work for you. but i mean i guess you are right look for the strange emails.” raising his brow, he stopped and gave her a small frown. “ and i have nothing better to do with my life? i mean…i can go. you can drop this case. say there was nothing you can do. and yet you keep doing it–it’s not because it’s a waste of your time. it’s interesting enough for you to be hovering around me–unless you’re here to keep me company”
❛ ONE, i’m always right, and TWO, not the strange ones, but the ones that are almost too normal — for example, no one receives over three hundred e-mails from their broker, not with the same subject anyway. ❜ she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest before looking at him —- really looking at him. what is he doing there in her office? the eisenhardt-lefurgey case is on hold until financial records are ( legally ) released, and he’s —– not supposed to be there. ❛ i don’t have a choice. ❜ she says, quietly, as if she’s revealing some deep dark secret she’s truly ashamed of ( have you ever told anyone outside this hellhole that you don’t have a choice? have you ever opened this part to anyone else? does anyone else know? no, no, no. then why does it come so simply out for him? ). ❛ if you want to go, you can go. i mean, you are the one in my office right now, not the other way around. ❜