Another on the coffee maker:Made coffee. Hope it’s strong enough. Call me when you’re up.
And a final one on her front door:Lock this behind you. Always.
The discovery of each note brought a fresh, secret smile to her face. There was something so intimate about these small messages—as if he was leaving pieces of himself behind, breadcrumbs leading back to him.
As she sipped the strong and perfect coffee he’d prepared, Morgan found herself thinking about the financial discrepancy she’d discovered yesterday. In the warm glow of morning, with Archer’s notes surrounding her, it seemed less significant. Probably just an accounting error, easily explained.
Still, something nagged at her—a persistent feeling that things at Vertex Creative weren’t quite right. Richard’s reaction when he’d seen her examining the files to try to locate the missing funds...
She had a full hour before she needed to start getting ready for work. An hour to savor the memories of last night, to feel the pleasant ache in muscles well-used, to read and reread the notes from a man who was quickly becoming essential to her.
Morgan reached for her phone to call Archer, as his note had requested. She wanted to hear his voice, to thank him for last night, to make plans to see him again soon.
13
Bullet
Archer’s 6:00 AM workout had barely begun when his phone vibrated against the weightlifting bench. Morgan’s name lit up the screen, sending an unexpected surge of warmth through his chest. She was calling earlier than he’d expected.
He hesitated, glancing around the private gym occupying the floor beneath his penthouse. The space was empty save for himself of course, but habit made him check anyway. Privacy in his personal life had become second nature.
“Good morning,” he answered, his voice still rough from sleep and exertion.
“Did I wake you?” Morgan asked, sounding uncertain.
“No, I’ve been up. Just doing my morning workout.” He settled onto the bench, abandoning the weights. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, and I found your notes,” her laugh was soft, reminding them of their shared passion the night before. “That was... sweet. I loved it.”
Sweet. When was the last time anyone had called Archer Sullivan sweet? CEOs were described as ruthless. Visionary. Demanding. Never sweet.
“I meant every word,” he said, surprising himself with the admission.
“The coffee was perfect too.” A pause, then: “Last night was amazing.”
Archer closed his eyes, memories washing over him—the silk of her skin beneath his fingertips, the way she’d surrendered to him, trusting him completely with the barrier of the blindfold. The experience had been unlike anything he’d known before.
Sex had previously been a straightforward transaction in his life—pleasant but never meaningful. With Morgan, even without full intercourse, the connection had been profound.
“Yes,” he agreed simply. “It was.”
“When can I see you again?” The directness of her question, the lack of games or pretense, was refreshing.
Archer mentally reviewed his calendar. Today would be impossible—board meetings until late evening, then the call with Tokyo he’d already rescheduled twice. Tomorrow...
“Thursday?” he suggested. “I could come to your place again. Or you could..." He trailed off, realizing he couldn’t invite her to his penthouse without it revealing so much more about who he was.
“Thursday sounds perfect,” Morgan said, saving him from the awkward moment. “Though I should warn you, I’m going to a pottery class tonight and honestly every Wednesday night is ladies night and we usually stay out late, so I might be tired tomorrow.”
“Pottery?” Archer couldn’t hide his surprise.
Morgan laughed. “I’m terrible at it. But it’s my turn to pick what we do and I’ve always wanted to become better at creating things with my hands, plus it’s something I used to do with my mom as a kid.
Honestly, ladies night is more about the wine and conversation than creating masterpieces. We started it after my friend Tessa went through a bad breakup last year. Four of us, every Wednesday, doing something fun, drinking cheap wine and sharing the latest gossip.”
The image made him smile. “Sounds fun.”
“It is.”
