Sam smiled faintly as she pulled on her coat. “Now? I find coffee, you go become a CEO. And if fate wants us to bump into each other again, then who are we to argue?” That made me smile a little. She walked to the door, then paused. “Thanks for the wine, the invite, and the orgasms.”
“It wasmypleasure.” She smirked, and I watched the door click shut behind her, the room suddenly so quiet in her absence.
By the time I was on my second espresso in the hotel lounge, Harper called. “Morning,” she said, voice crisp as ever. “I figured you’d be up and working already.”
“I never really stopped working,” I replied, staring out at the street below. “Just changed the location.”
“I got confirmation in the boardroom for the Monday meeting in New York. 10:00 a.m. Max Hayes will be there to officially introduce you as CEO. Full company rollout starts the following week.”
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Let’s lock it in. Push the strategy meeting with Ops to Tuesday. I want a buffer after the board intro.”
“Got it. Also, heads up, there’s a press lunch scheduled in two weeks. I’ll send over the potential outlets. Do you want to do a one-on-one sit-down with Forbes or keep it group style?”
“Group,” I said without hesitation. “Keep it clean. I don’t want any personal angles.” She hesitated. “And if they ask?”
“They’ll ask,” I muttered, glancing at my reflection in the window. “Just make sure the story stays on Hayes and the future of tech.”
“Copy that.” We went through the rest of the calendar, stakeholder intros, internal departmentreviews, and onboarding meetings. I confirmed, declined, and rescheduled. It felt mechanical, clean. Safe. And yet, every time there was a pause, my mind drifted. To the woman with sunlight in her hair and the kind of laugh that made my chest tighten. To last night, and to the mess she left in my bed, and apparently on my mind too.
Harper’s voice brought me back. “Your car to the airport is set for noon. The flight is at 2:15. I sent the boarding pass to your email.”
“Perfect.”
“And Theo?” she added.
“Congratulations. You’re officiallythe guy.” I gave a dry laugh. “We’ll see if that’s a good thing.” After we hung up, I sat for a moment longer. Watching the street. Letting the city live around me.
Then I opened my phone and scrolled to my camera roll. There, faintly blurry, completely candid, was a picture I’d taken last night of her laughing across the table, wine glass in hand, cheeks flushed with color and life. Which, by the way, I don’t recall taking.
I stared at it for a long moment. Longer than I would like to admit to myself. Anyway, I closed the photo, grabbed my bags, and headed for the airport.
At the airport, the lounge was quiet, polished, and almost empty. A soft hum of conversations, the occasional clink of glass, a wall of windows looking out onto the tarmac. I slid into a leather chair with my lunch. A grilled chicken sandwich and a Jack and Ginger, because I kind of enjoy being haunted by my choices.
One sip and I smirked.
I leaned back, the glass was cool in my hand, and let my eyes drift across the lounge. But all I could see was her, Sam. The way she smiled at me over the rim of her wine glass. The way she moved like she wasn’t trying, but knew you were watching. Her body. Her laugh. The balcony. The bed. The way she sighed into my mouth like it was the only place she wanted to be.
I shook my head, trying to snap out of it.
It was a fling, I reminded myself. A fun layover. A wild, sexy chapter in a city I hadn’t visited in a decade. Nothing more. Just a stunning flight attendant with a quick wit, a ridiculous body, and maybe the best sex I’ve ever had.
But nothing more.
My phone buzzed.
Nico: You land yet, CEO Daddy?
I laughed into my drink and texted back.
Me: Still in lounge life mode. Flight boards in 45.
Nico: And how’s our empire builder feeling?
Me: Like I traded freedom for a billion-dollar to-do list.
Nico: So… exactly like you?
Me: Shut up.
