Allyson's POV
My fingers gripped my phone with white-knuckled intensity as I moved through the corridor. Michael's number had been dialed countless times today, each call rolling straight to voicemail. My text messages sat there mockingly, marked as read but never answered.
Something was definitely wrong. The knot in my stomach tightened with each unanswered attempt to reach him.
As I approached the elevator bank, a flash of movement made me look up. Lisha was sauntering toward me with that deliberately provocative walk of hers, hair cascading over her shoulder like she was on some kind of runway. My jaw clenched automatically. She was absolutely the last person I needed to encounter right now.
I picked up my pace, hoping to slip into the elevator before she could intercept me. But Lisha quickened her steps too, cutting off my escape route just as I reached for the call button.
She positioned herself directly in my path, that trademark smug expression plastered across her face.
