Two hours later, Cressida, stops by my office with a scheduling question.
She glances toward Bree’s desk, then back at me. “Everything okay between you two?”
I can feel my brow furrowing. “Fine. Why?”
“No reason. Just seems. Tense over here today.” She says that last with a nervous giggle.
“Uh huh,” I tell her. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a PR crisis.Everythingis tense.”
Cressida nods, but I can see she’s not convinced. She’s Elspeth’s right hand. Discreet. But not blind.
People are starting to notice.
Fuck.
At three o’clock, I call Bree into my office to review something Paloma emailed me. I don’t actually need her input. The email is fine.
But I wanted to see her up close.
She stands across from my desk, laptop in hand, maintaining perfect professional distance. Her concealer is holding up well. I can barely see the marks.
I fucking hate that.
“The email looks good, Mr. Rossi,” she says.
Mr. Rossi.
Like we’re strangers.
Like I wasn’t inside her last night.
“Close the door,” I say slowly.
She hesitates. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Close the door, Bree,” I tell her.
She does.
But she stays by the door instead of coming closer.
“We saidprofessional,” she warns me.
“I know what we said,” I reply.
“Why did you really call me in here?” she tells me.
Because I can’t stop thinking about you.
Because the sight of you sitting out there so close to me is slowly driving me insane.
Because I want to push everything off my desk and spread you across it and fuck the living shit out of you until you’re screaming my name and the whole fuckingfloor hears.
“The email...” I say instead.
She laughs. It’s not pleasant. “Sure. The email.”
“Bree—” I start.
