Cassidy #3
Harlan goes still, and somehow that’s worse. His eyes flick to where my hand is gripping the edge of the desk, a sneer at his lips.
“Cassie.”
The sharpness in his voice cuts through the fog in my head for half a second. I let go immediately, pulling my hand back into my lap like I’ve done something wrong.
“I’m sorry.”
The apology spills out automatically.
Harlan swears quietly beneath his breath, the sound rough and frustrated. He pushes back slightly from the desk, studying me with an intensity that makes my skin feel too tight over my bones.
“You’re shaking.”
I look down.
He’s right.
My hands tremble in my lap, subtle enough that I somehow hadn’t noticed until now. The trembling worsens the second I focus on it, my fingers twitching against each other uselessly.
Heat floods my face.
“I’m sorry, I just—”
“Stop fucking apologising,” he snaps, and this time, my flinch doesn’t go unnoticed.
I hang my head. The panic is too big to swallow down now. Right now, my boss is furious, and I’m once again the reason why.
“Why are you shaking?” he asks, slightly calmer now.
“I just need some sleep,” I whisper, my voice barely making it past the tightness in my throat.
“Sleep?” Harlan repeats incredulously. “Cassidy, you look like you’re about to fall over. Do you think I’m stupid?”
The room tilts slightly as if to prove him right.
I straighten instinctively, desperate to compensate, but the movement sends black spots bursting harder across my vision. My heartbeat pounds unevenly against my ribs, too fast and far too heavy.
“Could we… would it be possible to focus on work?” I ask, carefully.
The words sound distant and garbled. Like somebody else is speaking through my mouth but doesn’t quite know how to move my face properly.
Harlan’s expression darkens further. “You want me to just ignore this?”
Something cold slides down my spine despite all the warmth trapped under my skin. My blouse is sticking unpleasantly to my back now, damp beneath the blazer, but my fingers feel freezing cold.
I swallow hard against the nausea rising in my throat. I nod.
“Well, tough fucking shit,” he hisses, voice low enough to vibrate through the space between us. “I’m not going to sit here whilst you’re working yourself into the ground on someone else’s project. You’re mine—”
He cuts himself off with a heaving breath, and I wish I wasn’t so cowardly.
I wish I could do something to help. Maybe if I wasn’t wearing the scent neutraliser, my scent might actually do something useful for once. Calm the room a little.
Calm him.
“When are you going to be done with this extra work?”
“I finished the work,” I say quickly, trying to redirect this before he keeps looking at me like that. “Everything she needed is done, and all the campaign notes were updated before nine, and I already scheduled the—”
“She?”
His voice cuts cleanly through mine, and I stop speaking immediately.
Harlan’s eyes narrow slightly. “Whose workload are you doing, Cassie?”
My stomach drops so violently it hurts.
“Just a friend. She’s been struggling,” I say weakly.
“With?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My body is frozen, refusing to obey, refusing to cooperate.
My thoughts won’t stay still. Just useless words sliding around in my head.
“Cassidy.” His voice is quieter now. More dangerous somehow. “How much work have you actually been doing?”
The answer comes immediately—too much.
Too much, too much, too much.
It was manageable. It’s done. I’ve helped her, and I made it through the week.
Why do we need to focus on this?
“Nothing I couldn’t manage,” I say instead, because that’s the correct answer. “I just needed to help a little, and then things got busy and—”
The ringing in my ears spikes violently. My next breath catches halfway into my lungs.
The office blurs around the edges, Harlan’s desk suddenly seeming too far away despite being directly in front of me.
I blink hard.
Once.
Twice.
The room doesn’t fix itself.
“Harlan,” I say quietly, though I’m not entirely sure I mean to.
Something changes in his expression instantly.
He rounds the desk fast enough that it startles me, but my reactions feel delayed, sluggish. By the time I realise he’s crouching beside me, my body already feels strange and disconnected, like my limbs belong to somebody else.
“Hey.” His voice is sharp, controlled. “Look at me.”
I try. I really do.
But the movement makes my vision swim violently, the edges darkening further until all I can properly focus on is the warmth of his hand wrapping around my wrist—his pulse against mine, steadier than anything else in the room.
“I think…” My voice comes out thin. “I think I need a second.”
“You’re not fine,” Harlan says flatly.
Embarrassment crashes through me so hard it almost hurts.
“I’m sorry.”
“Cassie—”
Then the last bit of strength goes out of me.
One second, I’m sitting upright trying desperately to focus on him, and the next, it feels like my body simply… stops cooperating.
The office dissolves into muffled sound and blurred light. My laptop slips from my fingers.
And then my muscles give up, my head hits the desk, and everything goes black.