She looked down at her hands. “You were the first thing in a long time that felt… not planned. So yeah, I didn’t say anything. I held on to that moment like a secret. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was trying to protect something for myself. For once.” A long beat of silence passed.
“I should’ve told you,” She added. “But I didn’t. And now we’re here. I’m sorry, Theo. Really sorry.” I let the silence stretch. God, I wanted to kiss her again. And throw her out. And pull her back in.
Instead, I said, “This is our workplace now. You and I, we’re nothing more than colleagues.”
She lifted a brow, but nodded. “Of course, Mr. Jones. As you wish.” My jaw twitched again. “We’re done here.” She stood, adjusted her blazer, and walked to the door.
Then she turned, a smile curling onto her lips likeit was wired into her DNA. “You know,” she said, “it’s kind of hot when you’re mad.”
And she was gone. Leaving me pacing behind frosted glass, trying not to lose my goddamn mind.
I pressed the dime button as my calendar buzzed sharply at 2:00: Meeting with Naomi Hayes — Head of Legal. Harper gave me a thumbs-up through the glass. Naomi stepped in exactly one minute later. No smile, no hesitation. “Mr. Jones,” she said, offering a firm handshake. “Thank you for making time.”
“Of course, Naomi. Please, have a seat, and call me Theodore, or Theo.” She nodded and sat, her posture immaculate, her folder organized with color-coded tabs that would make a litigator weep with joy.
“I want to keep this brief and clear,” she said, flipping it open. “I’ve reviewed the current corporate litigation backlog and pending international filings. There are a few landmines in the Southeast Asia division I’d like to get your sign-off on, but overall, I’m confident we can bring the average close-out timeline down by twenty percent by Q4.” I nodded, flipping through the printout she handed me.
Naomi was brilliant, controlled, and strategic. Every word is carefully measured. Every move is calculated. “We’ll need a formal sit-down with the external counsel team by next week,” she added, “and I’d prefer to personally manage all litigation involving regulatory affairs. I’ve done it since I was an associate, and I know where the bodies are buried.”
I glanced up from the page. “You’re impressive,Naomi.” She didn’t smile at the compliment, just nodded once, as if saying, ‘I know’.
“The family name carries weight,” she said. “It’s my job to make sure it also carries protection.” She leaned back, fixing me with a cool, intelligent stare. “I trust you’ll let me know if I ever fall short.”
“I will,” I said. “And I trust you’ll do the same.” We shook on it. She stood, collected her folder, and smoothed a wrinkle from her blazer. “And Theodore”
“Yes?”
“My sister’s smart. Don’t underestimate her because she doesn’t lead like us.” I raised an eyebrow. “She’s different,” Naomi said, matter-of-factly. “Always has been. That doesn’t mean she’s not capable. It just means she’s not built for these rooms.”
I sat back, tapping the corner of her report against the desk. Not built for these rooms. Not interested in power plays or posturing. Not following the dynasty plan laid out for her.
Sam had chosen the sky. The freedom, instead of quarterly earnings and boardroom battles. She’d made a life out of escaping this place.
And maybe I… I’d just become the anchor that pulled her back in.
Fuck, now I feel like shit.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
sam
It’s beena week of working under Theo.
But God, what I really want is for him to be under me again. Or on top of me. Or behind me. Or anywhere, really. Just close to me.
I miss it.
Which is insane, because it was just sex. Maybe the best sex I’ve ever had, but still. Why am I missinghim?
We’ve kept it civil and professional. If you don’t count the loaded glances across meeting rooms, the accidental brushes of fingers when passing documents, or the very intentional innuendos we toss at each other like darts during our 1:1 check-ins.
Twice this week, we were left alone in a glass conference room and talked about budget projections like we weren’t remembering what we looked like naked. He hasn’t touched me, not once. He hasn’ttried to kiss me or to get me alone more than needed. He hasn’t even dimmed the glass during our meetings. But the restraint in his jaw? The way his eyes paused just a beat too long on my mouth. It made me want to scream. Or to beg him to touch me again.
But today? Today broke me. Because my office is finally ready. After a week of squatting in Naomi’s overly beige workspace, someone from facilities walked me down the hall and opened a door directly across from Theo’s office. “You’ve got a nice view,” the guy joked, motioning toward the skyline. But the view wasn’t glass and buildings.
The view was Theodore Jones, framed by steel and ambition, barely ten feet away.
He had to be the one who planned this. It had to be him. That smug, calculating bastard wanted me within his line of sight. And you know what, maybe I wanted to be seen. By him, anyway.
