As a rule, Glenn didn’t like surprises. Not one bit.
In his experience, surprises never meant anything good. He liked his routine, he liked plans, he liked to know, as much as possible, what every minute of his day would be like when he got up in the morning. He tolerated some degree of uncertainty in his work, because after all it wasn’t like ancient ships had had GPS on board to signal the precise place where they’d elected to sink, but long hours of research and his knowledge of the Great Lakes minimized surprises to an acceptable level.
Less surprises also meant that he was able to keep better control of himself—and of his inner beast.
So when he came in to work that morning and found a brunette behind Harvey’s desk, his first thought wasn’t that she was definitely better looking than his assistant or that her eyes were the exact color of the Lilies Pond where he’d learned to swim, a blue that tried to pretend it really was green.
He didn’t even blink at the streak of white that flowed through the left side of her hair, the thick bleached strand tucked neatly behind her ear. What he did think was that an interloper was about to ruin his morning. Maybe even his week.