The heavy oak doors swung open, and the scene before me halted my momentum.
Anna Pruitt was perched on the edge of Jonathan's mahogany desk, leaning in close. Their heads bowed over a document, an intimate warmth radiating between them that had nothing to do with business.
At the sound of the latch clicking, Jonathan looked up. The amusement in his eyes hadn't yet faded.
"Joanna? You're here?" Anna's voice was saccharine, dripping with a sweetness that made my teeth ache. "We were just discussing the gala's itinerary."
I ignored her. Walked straight to the desk. Slammed the crumpled seating chart down in front of him.
"My seat. Why is Anna Pruitt's name on it?"
Jonathan glanced at the paper, his expression unbothered. His fingers tapped a rhythmic beat on his leather armrest.
"Anna suggested that the seats flanking the founder should be reserved for key investors. It aligns better with business etiquette. Her uncle had a last-minute emergency, so she's attending as his proxy." He paused, as if explaining something obvious to a child. "You're the Administrative Director, Joanna. It's more appropriate for you to sit with the management team."
My gaze shifted to Anna.