The Palm Reader's Sec rec

Maya's palm trembled slightly as she reached for her morning coffee. Thevitamin supplements sat beside her mug—a daily ritual she'd started after the burnout, a small act of self-care in a life that felt increasingly like something happening to someone else.

Across the open-plan office, Ethan adjusted his fedora. Yes, he actually wore a hat to work. It was part of his carefully curated eccentricity, along with the vintage typewriter on his desk and the way he called everyone "old sport." Maya found it irritating and charming in equal measure, which was exactly how she felt about most things these days.

"You're doing it again," Ethan said, appearing beside her desk. "The spy thing."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You watch everyone like you're gathering intelligence. Like you're writing reports in your head."

Maya's stomach tightened. Was she that transparent? Three weeks ago, she'd found the USB drive in the office parking lot. It contained project files, client lists—things that shouldn't be left lying around. She'd turned it in to security, but the question lingered: whose was it? The spy in their midst, or just carelessness?

Now she noticed everything. How Marcus stayed late every Tuesday. How Sarah's computer screen always seemed to shift when anyone walked behind her. How the new guy, what's-his-name, asked too many questions about things that didn't concern him.

"Paranoia's just heightened awareness," Maya said.

Ethan leaned against her desk. "Or it's a symptom of something else. You've been different since the restructuring."

"People lost their jobs, Ethan."

"We survived. That's not nothing."

His hand brushed hers as he straightened his hat. The contact was electric, terrifying. Three months ago, they'd kissed at the holiday party. They'd never spoken of it again.

"I ordered those vitamins you recommended," she said, changing the subject. "The ones for stress."

"Good. Though honestly? You need something stronger than supplements." He paused. "Dinner tonight? Actual dinner. Not office takeout."

"I—"

"Think about it." He walked away, the hat catching the fluorescent light.

Maya looked at her hand, then around the office. Who was watching? Who was safe? The USB drive had taught her that trust was fragile, that anyone could be compromised. But as Ethan paused at his desk and glanced back, she made a choice. Sometimes you had to take the risk.

"Yes," she called out. "Pick me up at seven."

His smile was slow, genuine. She'd worry about the spies tomorrow.