We reach my building. I take the elevator to my loft suite, shower, change into a fresh suit. My house manager Quillan has coffee waiting even though I didn’t ask.
I’m at the office by seven.
The 28th floor is quiet this early. Just a few members of the R&D team and that’s it.
I enter my glass-walled kingdom and sit at my desk. Pull up my email.
But the subject lines blur.
All I can see is Bree’s face when she woke up and found me watching her. The soft vulnerability, then the wariness.
Wary.
She’swaryof me.
Doesn’t want to get hurt.
She’s the last fucking person I’d ever hurt.
Nine o’clock arrives with the usual morning sounds. Elevators dinging. Conversations in the hallway. The coffee machine in the break room grinding beans.
I’m in a teleconference with Elspeth when Bree walks past my glass walls.
She’s back to professional attire today. No dresses. Gray blazer, white blouse, black slacks. Hair pulled back in the usual sleek style she favors for work. Makeup carefully applied.
Extra concealer on her neck.
I notice because I’m looking for it. Because I know exactly what she’s hiding under that coverage.
My claiming marks.
She doesn’t look at me as she passes.Just goes to her desk and starts her morning routine like everything is normal.
Like I didn’t have her spread beneath me twelve hours ago.
Like she didn’t scream my name so loud her fucking neighbors heard.
The meeting ends. Elspeth hangs up.
Paloma arrives in person for a follow-up on the media strategy. Bree comes in to take notes, her laptop open, her fingers poised on the keyboard.
Our eyes meet for half a second.
The air crackles.
She looks away first. Types something on her laptop.
Like nothing happened between us at all.
But I can see the flush creeping up her neck. Can see the way her breathing changes when I speak. Can see every tiny tell that says she’s as affected by my presence as I am by hers.
Paloma is talking about stakeholders or something. I nod in the right places. Make appropriate sounds. But I’m not listening. Not at all.
I’m watching Bree’s hands on the keyboard. Remembering those same hands fisted in my shirt last night. Pulling me closer instead.
The meeting ends.
Bree leaves without a word.
