By Monday morning, I’m hanging onto my control by the thinnest goddamn thread.
All weekend, I tried to reset.
I’d done the gym, sauna, a Knicks game with Logan where he wouldn’t shut up, three hours at my desk reorganizing reports that didn’t need reorganizing.
None of it worked.
Because every time I closed my eyes, I saw Emma’s face in that conference room on Friday.
That soft tremble in her breath.
The way she swayed toward me like she already knew exactly how I’d touch her if I let go.
And then this morning, she delivered her risk analysis straight to my inbox.
A flawless, razor-sharp, CEO level risk analysis.
No surprise there. She’s already shown she’s brilliant.
But it didn’t help.
Because all it did was remind me that she’s not just the woman I can’t stop wanting…
She’s the woman I need on this project. The woman who’s making my life easier and harder all at once.
Now it’s seven PM, and I’m supposed to walk into dinner at Ampersand NYC, and negotiate a fifteen million-dollar deal with billion dollar investor Richard Castellano while pretending I’m unaffected.
I’m not unaffected.
Noteven close.
My reflection in the mirrored elevator doors looks like a man who hasn’t slept properly in four days.
Salt and pepper beard a little rougher than usual. Jaw tighter. Tie loosened an inch too much.
I tighten it again, forcing my expression back into neutral.
Because I’m motherfucking Donovan Mitchell Titan.
Tech mogul.
Unshakable. Untouchable.
Except lately, whenever Emma damn Sinclair is within ten feet of me.
I step out of the elevator, and Logan falls into step beside me, grinning like the asshole he is.
“You’re wound tight,” he says cheerfully. “Something happen this weekend? Lose a bet? Break a golf club? Stare too long at a forbidden strategist?”
I give him a look that should qualify as a felony, and the bastard just laughs.
“It’s Monday,” I snap. “This week actually has to be productive.”
“Oh, sure,” Logan says, green eyes alight. “Totally normal Monday. You’re just acting like a man walking to his own execution.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re a tightly coiled spring in a tailor-made suit trying to convince yourself you’re fine.” He nudges me. “Which, by the way, is adorable.”
