Page 14 of High-Rise Heat

A string quartet strikes a powerful chord as I walk into the dazzling ballroom, silk and gold lanterns hanging from the ceiling and casting a red glow over the decorated space. Tables shimmer with crystal sculptures of swirling dragons and koi fish with exotic fins. There are lady dancers twirling on a stage in the corner, adding a bit of pageantry to what feels like an enchanted den of opulence. The gold color of my dress is perfect for the occasion, the flowy fabric hugging my hips before floating out with a twirl of layered gauze at my thighs. My hair is pulled into a twist of loose curls that shows off the dress’ low-cut back and the long stretch of my spine. It’s the perfect balance of elegance and sin. At least, that’s what I thought when I bought it, hoping Dom would be mesmerized when he saw me in it. I’d imagined him smiling beautifully when he saw the modest front—perfect for a business colleague—but then caught off guard by the exposed back, sending a wave of naughty thoughts through his head. Of course, none of that matters now.

I walk to the buffet and peruse the spread—oysters, sushi, fine caviar—a hundred things that will only make my stomach feel worse than it already does. It’s stupid that I feel so unsettled. The deal is done. Negotiated and signed, with every detail outlined and double checked. It’s exactly as we planned. Perfect in fact. Our bosses are going to be beside themselves. And yet … it doesn’t feel grand. There’s an emptiness in my stomach that’s rooted in whatever awkwardness is between Dom and me.

Of course, I know that itch of tension is allmine. This was a huge deal and whatever distance I’m feeling is all inmymind. I’m the one who is mixed up and confused. Dom knows exactly what he wants and today he went out got it. The way Isaac goes after women, Dom goes after business, slick and put together and absolutely on point. You’d never know Dom drank the night before. There was no hint of a hangover. No awkward silences. No prickle of confusion running up his spine when Isaac came into the kitchen for breakfast. Nope, Dominick was one-hundred percent sharp this morning. He was all, “Good morning, sunshine” and mega-watt smiles, then negotiation, and brilliance, and sign on the dotted line.

I’m the one who’s standing in this banquet all by myself feeling lost and out of sorts. Me. Not him. This wasthe dealI’ve been working on for months, if not preparing for years, and … I nibble on a cracker from the buffet table, but it’s dry and unsatisfying.

After the paperwork was signed, Dom mumbled something about calling the office and seeing me at the banquet later. His back was all I saw as he disappeared through the boardroom door hours ago. If this had been any other business trip, we’d have gone out for noodles or split a bizarre Hong Kong delicacy in a random restaurant near our hotel. But instead I went back to our giant presidential suite alone.

Isaac wasn’t there either, even though his suitcases were still in his room. I assume the two of them went out and celebrated together. I really don’t know. After a couple hours it became clear that Dom wasn’t going to come back before the party, so I got dressed and … here I am.

I grab a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and roll back my shoulders. Screw him. I’m not going to sulk. This was a great deal and if Dom wants to be … whatever he’s being, then fine. I’ll represent the company. I can smile and dazzle and laugh at our new associate’s bad jokes and throw back champagne. Clearly our previous “no-drinking rule” is off the table, and I ought to celebrate.

The bubbly burns as it goes down, I drink it so quickly. But who cares! I’ve been working this deal for months and now it’s done. It’s in the bag. This is the first time in ages that I don’t have to worry about budgets and quarterly earnings and what our next move is. It makes me want to get drunk and go back up to our high-rise and throw my four-inch heels off the side of the building. That’s right, chuck ‘em off the balcony and watch ‘em soar. I deserve to not have a care in the world.

I find the CEO of the company we’ve acquired and his business partners by the bar, and they raise a glass to welcome me. We congratulate each other and I expertly brush off the question of where my boss is. We chat politely and share stories and laugh, and before I know it I’ve been twirled around the dance floor by at least four of our new associates. I’m sure I’ve had far too many glasses of champagne when I suddenly feel sturdy hands on my waist.

I expect to see Dom, but when I turn it’s Isaac standing in front of me, dressed to the nines. He looks phenomenal, wearing a full tux that’s cut perfectly for him. His hair is styled and the rugged I-hang-out-in-my-pajamas man that’s been lounging around our suite shirtless is gone. This Isaac looks like he could own half of Hong Kong.

“Hi,” I say breathlessly, completely taken aback, and he smiles at me above his black bowtie.

“Mind if I have this dance?” he asks, never taking his eyes off me, and the business man who was dancing with me nods graciously. Isaac takes my arms and wraps them around his neck, pulling me onto the dance floor. “You look incredible,” he says, his hands dropping to my waist where he holds me firmly. “Though, I believe you wore this dress the other way around when we first met.”

I shake my head at him. “You’re such a putz!”

He smiles and twirls me, leaning into my ear. “You look great in both.”

“Yes, well, for the first time you don’t look like a homeless man, or some kind of beach bum who can’t help but walk around our suite without his shirt on.”

He smiles against my ear. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

I roll my eyes and ignore him. “You look nice in a tux. You might consider updating your wardrobe.”

“Suits and ballrooms are Dom’s thing,” he says, twirling me. “I’m a lie-on-a-beach-in-flip-flops kind of CEO.”

“Which reminds me, I have no clue what kind of business you’re in.”

“Not the glamorous high-rise kind,” he says, pulling me in close. “Dom is Mr. Big-Business-and-Mergers. I’m the forgettable entrepreneur with a laptop and an internet connection. Give me a glass of whiskey and I’m happy. I don’t need all this.” He nods to the glittering room.

“So, in your business, tuxes are optional?” I quip and he smiles against my ear again.

“Whatever you want is optional.” His breath is hot, rolling down my neck, and the tickle of his five-o-clock shadow brushes my face.

“You’re such a tease,” I jab, and his hands grip my sides intently, followed by his fingers wrapping around my back to cover my open skin.

“I think we established last night that a tease is the last thing I am.” His hands cradle my spine and my skin heats with how true that statement is. His palms burn into me as his fingers tickle my shoulder blades. The touch is a promise, telling me all the pleasure my body craves could be mine. “Have you seen Dominick this evening?” Isaac asks, continuing the conversation as if his hands aren’t teasing my spine and he didn’t just imply that he’d rather remove my dress and spend the rest of the evening in nothing but flip-flops.

I shake my head. “I haven’t, no,” I say, taking a moment to smell the salt of his neck. It’s a musky-dirt smell made of sweat. The kind I want to taste on every inch of him. “Dom disappeared after we signed the paperwork this afternoon,” I admit. “I haven’t seen him since. And frankly, I could care less.” That comes out harsher than I expect, anger prickling in me.

“You don’t mean that,” Isaac says softly, and I press my cheek into his neck, wanting the heat of this connection.

“Maybe true,” I admit. “But I don’t want to think about Dom when your hands are on me.”

Isaac’s grip flutters, his fingers tracing down my spine. “Now who’s being the tease,” he says in a dark voice, before pulling me so close and crushing my body against him. The fabric of my dress feels too thin and shocking for the public place we’re in, or maybe that’s the thought of the two of us being back at our high-rise with this dress pooled below my knees. “Have you decided what you want then?” Isaac asks, his breath on my neck, and I lay my head on his shoulder. We fit together so perfectly like this—swaying back and forth, man and woman, arm in arms. And we could fit together in all the other ways my body wants as well, I just have to nibble on his ear and say:I choose you. I want to.

Instead, I hold him tight and say nothing, dancing in a sway that feels like a hug. The kind of hug you don’t ever want to walk away from because at least for this one moment you feel like you’re somebody’s entire world, even if you don’t belong to them, even if you only get this one moment and its fleeting connection.

His fingers trace my back as the violins play a sad melody that makes me realize that saying yes to Isaac is saying no to something I thought I wanted for so long.

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