Page 33 of Sinful Beauty

The Brazilian prison system needs an overhaul and I won’t be overhauling anything on my income, which the attorney I hired made clear. But I can focus on my life. Save up to secure my independence and eventual retirement. What Aline and Geraldo have in Portugal is lovely, and I can have that one day too.

These things I knew yesterday. Yet somehow, after a night of multiple orgasms, I feel it in my soul today. The thought has me smiling, and because my scarf covers the lower half of my face, there’s no need to hide it.

I push into Lumina’s lobby and stop inside the doors, stomping on a damp mat. Elias assists a delivery person, signing for something, but he smiles at me in greeting. I wave my badge at the entry point and the glass door glides open.

In the elevator, I’m joined by two executives. My heels are in my bag at my side, and I wish I was wearing them instead of my old rain boots. I’m late. Both of the executives are in dress shoes, underscoring they’ve already arrived and changed shoes.

Tristan didn’t make it easy to leave the bed this morning. He suggested a shower, but then took another look at my tub situation and set about finding new ways we could join against the wall. A lovely start to the day, but I was late starting the tub and I couldn’t exactly skip bathing after our excursions last night.

The elevator door opens and one executive asks, “What song are you humming?”

The question takes me a second, as I didn’t expect him to speak to me. Was I humming? The elevator door glides and I’m frozen, watching it close but not reactive to either stall it or answer.

“Pas de probleme,” He says just as the door closes. The last thing I hear him say in French is that he can’t place the song.

I don’t hum music, so it’s confusing he thought I was the source of music. But I’m running late, and as I rush down the hall, Mr. Peltz’s office door is open. Shite. I’m later than I thought. Tristan’s office door is closed, as expected. He had to make it home and shower before coming in. There’s no way he could beat me.

My stomach tosses about like a boat on a windy day at the thought of seeing him again. He’ll be in his professional armor and assume his position in an office. And I’ll be at my desk in the hallway, setting about like I’ve never seen him naked. Like I don’t know what his face looks like as he comes, how his skin flushes, or how he feels pulsing deep inside me.

All things I cannot consider. I must put the memories away. With my heels on and my computer coming to life, I scurry down the hall to check on my boss.

But he’s not alone.

Mrs. Wagner stands near his desk, arms crossed below her breasts. Her glare halts me in the doorway.

“Ah, sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to let you know I’m in. I’m sorry, we lost utilities last night, and it took me a bit?—”

Mr. Peltz’s hand waves. “Nasty storm last night. Can you get me some coffee? Mine is—” He holds Carasso branded ceramic mug up in a gesture I’ve been trained to understand means he needs more.

“Absolutely. Would you care for anything, ma’am?”

“No, thank you.”

Based on the firm set of her lips, she’s quite cross. But, it can’t be to do with me. Can it? What would she care if I’m late? And she can’t possibly know what happened last night.

I repeat this to myself over and over while retrieving Mr. Pelz’s coffee. If I hadn’t ridden her son last night like a horny cowgirl, I wouldn’t be thinking twice about her expressions. I’d know that once again she and Mr. Pelz were having a disagreement. There’s nothing for me to get worked up over. Nothing to do with me at all, actually. Any other scenario is an impossibility.

My stride slows as the voices within the office drift down the executive hallway.

“Nelson.” Her tone has the heat of a woman about to lose her shit. I pause and hope my boss has the good sense to recognize he’s about to detonate dynamite.

“Victoria. I thought you would be pleased. ZenFire is our most valuable client.”

“That account won’t grow. It’s stagnant at best. Tristan won’t be properly leveraged. We must have fifty account reps on that account.”

“We?”

I take a step back to remain unseen. Mr. Pelz isn’t backing down.

“I’m still on the board. Do I need to remind you of that? We may no longer have majority control, but we have a significant interest. This is still very much?—”

There’s a pause and I take another step back. The coffee threatens to jostle over the rim.

“It’s still your company. You can say it.” He sounds more congenial now.

“I simply think Nova Pharmaceutical is a client with growth potential. And they’re based here in Switzerland, so his relationship-building skills can be put to better use.”

He has skills. I’ll give her that.

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