Oh my god, this is so naughty! But I force myself to behave, at least on the outside. The ride down is just three floors, but it’s enough time for my mind to run the loop again—Brent’s voice in my ear, James’s hand around my throat, the slickness of cold metal as they filled me, front and back, with those thick pens. I clench, just once, and the aftershocks make me smile despite myself.
By the time I reach my desk, I’ve got my mask back on: professional, precise, not even a whisper of what just happened behind the closed conference-room door. I log in, queue up a new memo, and start typing with steady hands.
But every now and then, when I lean back in my chair, I let myself daydream: about what I’d say if either man summoned me again. About what it would feel like to have them both, for real, this time, not just as a punishment but as a promise. About Saturday night, and how the hours between now and then will crawl by with exquisite, unbearable slowness.
I cross my legs under the desk, knees tight together, and allow myself one small, secret smile.
Let them watch, I think. Let them try to see what I’m really made of.
I can’t wait for the curtain to rise again.
The caféacross from the firm is packed, as usual, with men who look like they work as hedge fund managers and women who look like they moonlight as trophy wives. There’s a line out the door, the baristas are doing espresso shots between orders, and the music is pitched so loud you can barely hear your own voice unless you lean in close and shout.
We—me, Eliza, and Jade, another paralegal—snag the corner table by the front window, which is both prime real estate and a stage for every assistant, secretary, and baby lawyer who wants to make a scene. I set my tray down and immediately start unwrapping a sandwich, not because I’m hungry, but because it gives my hands something to do while my brain preps for the confession I’m about to make.
Jade is the first to notice I’m in a weird mood. She’s new too, but unbelievably gorgeous in that way that’s intimidating, and yet the woman is effortlessly nice. “You look like you robbed a bank and got away with it,” she says slyly, fanning herself with a napkin. “Tell me everything, Marnie. I know you’re hiding something.”
Eliza gives me a look over the rim of her cold brew. “Yeah, Marn. Spill.”
I let the pause stretch, enjoying it for once. I look at the table: half-eaten sandwiches, two empty oat-milk lattes, a phone screen smudged with fingerprints. It’s as if, by keeping our eyes down, we might avoid the truth for another few seconds.
When I finally speak, it comes out in a rush. “I did something crazy.”
Eliza just arches an eyebrow, the universal sign for “try me, bitch.”
“I made a deal with the partners,” I blurt, then lower my voice. “Like, an actual deal. For information. And sex.”
Jade’s eyes go so round I think her contacts might pop out. “Wait,what?”
I can’t help it—I start laughing, the kind that bubbles up and won’t stop. “I’m serious! Brent and James. Both. At once. There’s a… thing, this weekend.”
For a second, no one says anything. Jade is frozen mid-sip, and Eliza’s fingers go white around her cup.
Then Jade exhales a little too loud. “Holy shit,” she says, and her voice is half awe, half pure terror. “Is that even allowed? Like, in the HR handbook? We’re talking Brent Gibson and James Grant, right? Like the co-heads of our firm?”
I nod as Eliza leans in, all her concern suddenly out on the table. “Are you sure you can handle both of them? Emotionally, I mean. Not physically.” She flicks her gaze at my boobs, which I don’t blame her for.
I shrug.
“It’s not about emotional connection. Brent and James aren’t going to buy me dinner and write me poetry. Even I’m not so silly as to believe that. It’s just a transaction because they want my body, and I want theirs. And,” I add, just to clarify, “I need information about my father’s case. Except I don’t even know who’s getting the better end of the deal.”
Jade is the first to recover, her cheeks pink with excitement. “Oh my god, this is so hot. I mean, it’s kind of insane, but also kind of empowering, right? Like, you’re using them as much as they’re using you.”
I nod, tracing a ring around my coffee cup. “That’s how I see it. Brent and James are gods at the firm, but at the end of the day, they’re still men. Hot, powerful, infuriating alpha males, but still.”
Eliza looks thoughtful, pursing her lips. “Do you want it, though? Or is it just the file?”
I meet her eyes. “I want it. I’m not proud, but have you seen our bosses? They’re magnetic. You get close and you can’t think straight. It’s like…” I search for the word, then give up. “It’s like nothing else.”
Jade, emboldened by my honesty, leans in conspiratorially. “So, are you, like, nervous? Or just horny all the time?”
I snort again, then cover my mouth. This girl is hysterical and obviously doesn’t hold back. “Both. Sometimes I can’t even walk down the hall without practically orgasming right then and there.”
Both women giggle with scandalized mirth, but then Eliza sobers. “If you need an out, you tell me. I’ll fake an HR complaint or light the place on fire if I have to.”
“I appreciate it,” I say. “But honestly? I’m good. I just want to get through Saturday night in one piece, and to really savor it. Plus, maybe I’ll get some answers.”
Jade’s eyes go wide again. “So you have a liaison with Brent and James Saturday night?”
