Gemotions

The elevator doors chimed open, and Sarah gripped the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles whitened. She’d rehearsed her presentation a dozen times, but now, facing the imposing oak door of Mr. Henderson's office, her throat felt constricted. The air conditioning seemed to have failed, and she could feel a bead of sweat tracing a path down her temple. This was it.

She straightened her blazer and took a deep breath, attempting to steady the tremor in her hands as she reached for the handle. A small voice inside her head whispered, “Don’t mess this up.”

Walking inside, Sarah forced a smile onto her face. Mr. Henderson sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable. Across from him, Mark, her rival for the promotion, was already seated, looking disconcertingly calm.