"It's extremely helpful," Riley argues. "You're acting like this is a disaster, but this could be—"
"A sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen?" I interrupt. "A career-destroying scandal? The reason I get blacklisted from every tech company in the country?"
"Or," Sasha says slowly, "it could be really hot."
"No." I point at my phone screen. "Absolutely not. We are not doing this. I did not work my ass off for six years to throw away my career because I can't keep my hands off my boss."
"But you want to keep your hands on your boss," Riley points out.
"That's irrelevant."
"That's extremelyrelevant."
"It's not happening," I say now, teeth grinding together. "I spent four years with Josh, compromising my career and my goals to make him feel important, and where did that get me?."
"Don isn't Josh," Sasha says gently.
“Same principle.”
They're both quiet for a moment.
"Okay," Riley says finally. "So what's the plan?"
"The plan is I show up on Monday, do my job brilliantly, and pretend Miami never happened. Don and I already agreed—strictly professional. No special treatment. No references to the past."
"And you think you can do that?" Sasha asks, brow cocked. "Work with him every day and pretend you don’t want to ride his face?"
"Sasha,” I take a mental pause. “I have to. There's no other option." I take another swig of wine. "Besides, he made it very clear tonight that he's on the same page. We're both professionals. We can handle this."
"Famous last words," Riley mutters.
"I'm serious. This is my dream job. I'm not going to screw it up because I can't control myself around an attractive man."
"An attractive billionaire," Sasha amends. "Who you've already slept with. And clearly have chemistry with."
"I'm hanging up now," I announce. "I need to drink this wine and mentally prepare for Monday."
"Emma," Riley says, her voice softer now. "We're just teasing. You're going to be amazing. You earned this job. Don't let anything—or anyone—make you doubt that."
"Even if that anyone is a silver fox CEO with a face made for sitting on,” Sasha adds with a nod.
We say our goodbyes, and I'm alone again with my wine and my thoughts and the increasingly loud sounds of my neighbor's TV through the wall.
I know I should eatsomething.
Unpack more boxes.
Do literally anything productive.
Instead, I lie back on my air mattress and stare at the ceiling, wine bottle balanced on my stomach.
The thing is, they're not wrong.
Donovan Titan is hot.
And he's successful. Single.
And the way he looked at me on that balcony made my entire body remember things I'm supposed to be forgetting.
