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“Here.” Sloane reaches over me and begins scanning through the footage herself.
I give her a mock offended look. “You know, combing through security footage is something technical that I can do.”
“I know,” she says, a smirk forming on her lips. “I’m just much quicker at it.”
She winks and continues looking through the cameras. A month ago, her tone would have had an edge to it. A challenge to question her abilities and authority on the matter. Now it’s all said in jest.
I chuckle and can’t help but admire the mischievous gleam in her eyes. She’s never more attractive than when she’s in her element.
I have to forcibly turn my attention to the screen in front of me to stop the memories of that night in the hotel from resurfacing. It’s something I’ve found I have to stop myself from thinking about a lot lately.
“What are you looking for?” I ask, thankful that my voice at least sounds neutral.
“I’m seeing if Angel was even in the building when the call started. Let’s see… I thought so! There she is.” Sloane points to a camera right outside one of the side doors where Angel walks out.
“It looks like she left about ten minutes before Craig got on the phone,” Sloane mutters. “She could have left for the very reason that we wouldn’t be able to spot her on camera.”
A grimace makes its way onto my face. I might have put Angel on the list, but it still stings to know she might actually be the spy. Angel’s difficult, sure, she even has the nerve to put me in my place every now and then. But she’s a hard worker and knows how to run an office.
Still, if she’s the spy, I won’t hesitate to take her down.
“We’ll need more evidence if we’re going to act,” I say, thinking aloud more than anything. “It was about lunchtime. A lot of people left the office for lunch. We’ll need something concrete.”
Sloane leans against the desk. “Then it looks like we’re going to a gala. If I’m invited, that is.”
“All my employees are invited,” I tell her. “I bought two tables. It’s for charity, and it’s good for morale.”
“Aren’t I lucky then?”
I roll my eyes and stand from my chair. “Sloane, would like to be my date to the gala this weekend?”
A slow smile spreads across her face. “I’d be delighted.”
* * *
The night of the gala, I catch myself adjusting my suit jacket and bow tie more than once. And every time I mentally kick myself for it. What in the world has made me so fidgety with my appearance tonight?
I huff almost as soon as the thought comes to mind. I know what it is, or rather, who it is. It’s Sloane. We may have decided not to put a label on what we are, but that hasn’t stopped my attraction towards her. Quite the opposite.
With each day that passes, I find myself drawn to her. Thoughts of that night spent together run rampant in my head, and I yearn to have her against me again. To touch her, to kiss her until she’s breathless. To watch her come undone.
More than that though, I simply want to be with her. To bask in her laughter without having to worry about becoming too attached. To listen to her teasing and see that beautiful sly smile of hers.
No one has ever had such a grip on my heart and my mind like she does. It should terrify me or at least make me a little cautious. It feels like I’m standing on the edge of the shore as a tidal wave rushes to meet me. But instead of wanting to run from it, I want to embrace it.
I groan as I pull up to her house and roughly shove those thoughts into the back of my mind. We agreed not to label anything for a reason. We need to focus.
But all that careful focus goes straight out the window when I see Sloane coming out to the car.
She’s in a deep purple dress with a slit that goes up to her thigh. Her hair is down and hangs loose over her shoulders and blows in the wind like she’s in a movie. I suck in a sharp breath as she gets into the passenger seat and smirks at me.
“You look nice,” she says, her eyes roving over me.
“Thank you.”
She tilts her head up a little. “Don’t I look nice, too?”
It’s said with bravado, but I catch just a hint of genuine curiosity there. I smile. “You look gorgeous.”
