There was an urgent tone in the voice that, from a distance, resonated in her head and interrupted her sleep. Irritated, Morgen tried to push it out of her mind. But her dream kept fading. The tingling sensation running through her hands brought her back to reality: she had fallen asleep at her worktable. "Oh no!" She lifted her head from her hands and began wiggling her fingers and rubbing her palms to get the blood circulating again. Her heart was beating rapidly from the start, but it accelerated even more when she realized that, across the table, a man was staring at her with a cold expression. His mouth was set in a frown. Morgen stood up.

–Excuse me, I...

"...was wasting company time, you meant? As far as I know, there's still an hour until lunch. From what I've heard, most staff bring a sandwich and eat it at their desks. But you obviously have more relaxed ideas about how to use your desk. Don't you, Miss...?"

"What a hateful man!" For a few moments, Morgen was overcome with rage and humiliation. She took a deep breath, tucked her hair behind her ear, squared her shoulders, and composed herself. How dare he challenge her with that insinuation that he usually slept on her desk? And besides, who the hell was he?

–You know, this is the first time I've fallen asleep, sir... –You first.

With an impatient gesture, the man ran his hand through his chestnut hair. Morgen noticed that he was in desperate need of a haircut.
hair and a shave. Aside from that, there was something about him that made her stomach clench. The man before her never went unnoticed, she was sure of that. And it wasn't just his imposing appearance.

–McKenzie. Morgen McKenzie.

–And tell me: besides being employed by this company to, it seems, do very little, you work for Derek Holden, don't you?

Morgen swallowed hard and felt her cheeks heat up.

–I'm his secretary, that's it.

"And where the heck is he? I had a meeting with him in the conference room at 10:30. I'm coming from the States: I left on the first flight to make sure I got here on time. I'm jet-lagged, and I urgently need to take a shower and eat something. There's no sign of your boss. Would you mind telling me where he might be, Miss McKenzie?"

What she wouldn't mind saying to the "Mr.-Sir-Great-I'm-so-much-better-than-you" in front of her was unspeakable, but she was equally angry with Derek. Why hadn't he warned her that she was having a meeting at 10:30 with this man, whoever he was? The previous evening, as always before leaving, she had conscientiously checked her calendar, and by 10:30 there were no meetings listed. What game was she playing at?

Her heart filled with sadness. This was just another sign of her boss's decline. Derek Holden, once an intelligent architect with a promising career ahead of him, had increasingly turned to alcohol for solace since the divorce. Over the past six months, Morgen had witnessed his transformation into a sad shadow of his former self. Fortunately for her boss, she was smart and quick-witted, and had bailed him out on more than one occasion by doing work that definitely went beyond the duties of a mere secretary. Morgen concluded that Derek knew about the meeting, but had forgotten to tell her.

At that moment, with her diary open in front of her, she stared at the blank space near ten-thirty and tried to find the best excuse to justify her boss's absence. She could sense the man's anger
in front of her was growing by the minute. That beautiful Goliath was going to be very difficult to convince.

–Unfortunately, Derek is sick.