"What is up with you? You've been out of it since this morning. Even during the celebrations, you kept such a long face that anyone watching would've thought we lost the deal. What's on your mind?"
Dave's voice pulled Grant from his thoughts, though the latter barely looked up from the papers scattered across his desk. He shook his head, dismissing the concern with a tight, controlled smile.
"I'm fine," Grant muttered, but he knew he was lying—to Dave and to himself. He couldn't admit what was really bothering him. He couldn't tell Dave that Innocensa Frost had been occupying his mind all day, her tear-streaked face flashing through his thoughts like an unsolved puzzle. Why had she been crying? What could have driven someone so composed and professional to break like that? What was she doing now? Had she stopped crying? What had made her cry like that? Or rather who?