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67

"You're in love," Penelope said, having fun with her own statement.

"I'm not " i said, exasperated. "I'm just saying that talking about the intimacies of a marriage in the middle of working hours is completely wrong.”

"We are having lunch," she insists, crossing her arms over the glass top of the table.

I don't even look in your direction, even though I feel your curiosity hovering in the air.

"It's your impression that I'm nervous. And it definitely has nothing to do with passion.”

On another occasion, I could use the argument that this is a fake marriage and that there is no possibility that I will fall in love with Hunter. Not while our rules are rising between us like an impenetrable wall.

But being stuck in a meeting room with Penelope and two other important colleagues, I don't have much choice to refuse to talk about why she saw me snorting early in the morning, but accuse her own sleep.

We have just paused the first meeting of the day, not having reached even half of the issue
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