Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The room was all crystal, oak, and ego.
Suits clinked glasses. Laughter ricocheted off the vaulted ceilings. Mr. Carpenter stood near the center, talking mergers like they were gossip. I stood near the perimeter, guarding nothing but silence and my own damn thoughts.
I didn't belong at this table. Not really. But when the CEO says you're coming to dinner, you show up and keep your tie straight.
I thought I'd made it through the night without a problem until I heard her voice.
"I didn't know we were playing dress-up tonight."
My eyes closed for half a second. Then I turned.
Sabrina. Standing in the doorway like a devil in Dior. Hair flowing, lips a deep wine red, dress cut low and sinful. She wasn't on the guest list. I was sure of it. But no one stopped her. Of course they didn't. When you're the billionaire's only daughter, doors open even when they're locked.
"Did Daddy invite you?" I asked under my breath as she brushed past.
"No. I invited myself."
She winked. I clenched my jaw.
Dinner was a blur of courses and conversation. I was seated near the middle... strategically placed, not too far from the boss, not too close. I kept my head down. I sipped water. I reminded myself I had a job to protect. That she was a distraction with dangerous curves and a last name that could ruin me.
Then she sat down next to me.
I didn't see her switch place cards. Didn't see how she managed to charm her way into that empty chair. But suddenly, she was there. Legs crossed, arm brushing mine. Like it was fate.
"Hi again," she whispered, voice a sugary sin. "Miss me?"
"Don't do this."
"Do what?"
"You know what."
Her hand slid along the tablecloth as she reached for her wine, the back of it grazing my wrist. I moved it away. She smirked.
I tried to focus on the speech Mr. Carpenter was giving at the head of the table, but her foot tapped mine light, playful. Then again. Then a slow glide up my shin under the table.
I cleared my throat. Shifted in my seat.
Sabrina leaned closer, her lips brushing my ear.
"I could help with that. I'm good at taking things off."
I turned my head, nose nearly brushing hers. "Do you want me to lose my job?"
"I want you to stop pretending you don't think about me."
I stared at her, heat flaring behind my eyes. "You don't know what I think about."
