“I graduated at the top of my class,” I say evenly. “I interned at an investment bank while I was still in college. I accompanied Colin to meetings and assisted Margaret several times before her accident.”
I shouldn’t have to justify myself, but I want her to understand one thing very clearly: I am not disposable. I am not incompetent. And I am certainly not beneath her.
“Of course,” she replies smoothly. “That makes sense. I hope you’re enjoying your time at the company. Colin must really appreciate your work.”
I smile back, polite, while my mind catalogs everything Colintrulyappreciates.
My work.
My mouth.
My body.
“Well,” she adds, already disengaging, “I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll see if the other guests need anything.”
As she walks away, her father stops her, slips an arm around her shoulders, kisses her cheek. They laugh together. I look away, lifting my glass to my lips once more.
I search for Colin and spot him heading toward the house. I scan the pool area, waiting until no one seems to be paying attention—then I follow.
He’s in the kitchen, leaning against the fridge, eyes fixed on his phone. Hidden from the windows. Alone.
Perfect.
“You don’t need to text me,” I say softly. “I’m here.”
He startles, straightening. “Maya—you shouldn’t be in here.”
“I was invited.” I shrug, stepping closer. I stop in front of him and lower myself to my knees, my purse sliding from my shoulder to the floor. “You asked me to come.”
His hand closes around my arm, intending to pull me up, but I slide my palm over the front of his pants instead. He’s already hardening beneath my touch. With my other hand, I reach for his belt.
“Let me taste you,” I murmur, looking up at him through my lashes. “Yesterday was rushed. Once wasn’t enough.”
His thumb brushes my lower lip. His breathing turns shallow. For a moment, I see it—the hesitation, the fracture. The second where he’s about to let go, about to give in.
Then his gaze flicks past me.
He stiffens.
I turn, expecting to find someone behind me, but the living room is empty. He’s staring at it like he’s seen a ghost. When his eyes return to mine, something has sealed shut.
His expression hardens.
He jerks away abruptly. I stumble, catching myself with one hand on the floor as he fixes his pants.
His voice is cold. Laced with contempt.
“You’re going to wait five minutes. Then you’ll go back outside. Say your goodbyes. Say you had an emergency and need to leave. Don’teverpull that kind of shit again. This is my home.”
I freeze.
The rejection slices cleanly through me. He said no…even as his body betrayed him. And then he walks out, leaving me kneeling on the cold kitchen floor without a single backward glance.
When I finally stand, I sling my purse back over my shoulder.
I leave the house without a word, every step heavy with the sting of his refusal.
Cecily
