I sigh and round my desk before lowering into my chair.
“Are you done?” I ask, drumming my fingers along the wood.
“Not until you tell me where you’re going.”
I lean back in my chair. “No chance.”
She taps something on her tablet and waits. It’s the silent war of attrition we’ve played since year one. She always breaks first.
Sure enough, after a beat, she shifts her weight. “You know, I could find out what that invitation was for. Discreetly.”
She can try, but she won’t find the answers she’s looking for.
I laugh under my breath. “And ruin the mystery?”
“Since when doyoulike mystery?”
I don’t.
Not usually.
But this feels different.
Something about it scratches at the part of my brain I try not to acknowledge. The part that wonders why now, why me, and what exactly they think I want.
“Go torture someone else,” I say, waving her off.
“Gladly.” She turns on her heel, then stops at the door, twisting back to look at me. “Just, if you are going to some secret billionaire sex party...”
I lift a brow. “Yes?”
She gestures to my tie. “Maybe don’t wear that.”
I glance down. “What’s wrong with my tie?”
“You usually have impeccable taste.” Her shoulders lift in a shrug. “But I don’t know. I think that one offends me.”
“Duly noted.”
She winks. “Try not to get blackmailed.”
“Try not to get fired.”
“Not possible. You’d fall apart without me.”
The door clicks shut behind her.
I lean back in my chair and exhale, eyes drifting back to the envelope still tucked in my drawer. My thumb taps against the armrest, heartbeat just a little too loud for comfort.
This is either a very good idea or a very bad one.
Then again, so is everything that’s ever worked out for me.
Six
Celeste
Not even twenty-four hours after I opened up about my darkest desires to my boss, I find myself back in my office, staring at the black envelope sitting dead center on my desk.