Delaney POV
Last night’s booze still clung to the back of my throat, and my head pounded like someone was using it for a drum. I still dragged myself into the office. Deadlines don’t care about hangovers.
I’d barely stepped through the glass doors when Rocky Brown materialized right behind me, that same oily smile stretched across his face as it belonged there.
“Ms. Willes. About last night… I had too much to drink. I was out of line.” He held out a gift bag as if it were a peace offering. “I came by to apologize properly.”
I just stared at him. Winston Jackson had stepped in and shut him down last night, but I never expected a follow-up performance. The same guy who’d been acting like he owned the room was now playing nice? Something felt off.
When I didn’t take the bag or say a word
