Page 40
Story: Dial B for Billionaire
The meeting wraps just after three. The team files out in small groups, discussing follow-up tasks and timeline details.
Somehow—definitely by Caleb's design—he leaves last, offering me a knowing look before closing the door.
Leaving me alone with Layla.
He couldn’t be more obvious if he tried.
She gathers her materials methodically. “That went better than expected.”
“What were you expecting?”
“To be dismissed. Or merely tolerated.” She meets my eyes directly. “Thank you for taking the proposal seriously.”
“It was solid work. I don't ignore quality analysis.”
“Even when it comes from a complication?”
“About that.” I move closer, stopping at the table's edge. “Now that you're officially staying on, we need to establish boundaries.”
“Absolutely. Strictly professional.”
“No more rooftop encounters.”
Even though my dick disagrees.
“And no dancing?” She cocks her head.
“Obviously not.”
“Or texting my mother?”
I wince. “Already a hard limit.”
Her mouth twitches slightly. “You know, she found your thoughts on success and meaning very… enlightening.”
My jaw ticks. “Your mother isn’t an appropriate topic for workplace discussion.”
She leans back, lips upturned, pleased with herself. “Noted. I'll rescind her offer to join our happy hour mixer next week. She’ll be disappointed, of course.”
I shake my head, but the faintest flicker of a laugh escapes me. “That was a joke.”
“It was.” She gathers her files, aligning the corners with scientific precision. “Was there anything else, Mr. Mercer?”
My brain short-circuits. There’s a moment where I want to say something, tug her close against my body the way I did on that rooftop, graze my mouth over her skin… But years of training, of deals and detachment, keep the urge in check.
“That will be all for now.”
She turns to go and glances at me again. “Bennett?” Her voice. My gaze drags over her one last time, impossible to pull away. “I’m glad we had this talk. It’s best if we keep things simple. For both of us.”
I flash her a tight smile. “Of course.”
And then she's gone.
I stare at the closed door longer than necessary. My phone buzzes with a text.
Caleb:
Friendly reminder not to scandalize HR—there are cameras in the boardroom.
Somehow—definitely by Caleb's design—he leaves last, offering me a knowing look before closing the door.
Leaving me alone with Layla.
He couldn’t be more obvious if he tried.
She gathers her materials methodically. “That went better than expected.”
“What were you expecting?”
“To be dismissed. Or merely tolerated.” She meets my eyes directly. “Thank you for taking the proposal seriously.”
“It was solid work. I don't ignore quality analysis.”
“Even when it comes from a complication?”
“About that.” I move closer, stopping at the table's edge. “Now that you're officially staying on, we need to establish boundaries.”
“Absolutely. Strictly professional.”
“No more rooftop encounters.”
Even though my dick disagrees.
“And no dancing?” She cocks her head.
“Obviously not.”
“Or texting my mother?”
I wince. “Already a hard limit.”
Her mouth twitches slightly. “You know, she found your thoughts on success and meaning very… enlightening.”
My jaw ticks. “Your mother isn’t an appropriate topic for workplace discussion.”
She leans back, lips upturned, pleased with herself. “Noted. I'll rescind her offer to join our happy hour mixer next week. She’ll be disappointed, of course.”
I shake my head, but the faintest flicker of a laugh escapes me. “That was a joke.”
“It was.” She gathers her files, aligning the corners with scientific precision. “Was there anything else, Mr. Mercer?”
My brain short-circuits. There’s a moment where I want to say something, tug her close against my body the way I did on that rooftop, graze my mouth over her skin… But years of training, of deals and detachment, keep the urge in check.
“That will be all for now.”
She turns to go and glances at me again. “Bennett?” Her voice. My gaze drags over her one last time, impossible to pull away. “I’m glad we had this talk. It’s best if we keep things simple. For both of us.”
I flash her a tight smile. “Of course.”
And then she's gone.
I stare at the closed door longer than necessary. My phone buzzes with a text.
Caleb:
Friendly reminder not to scandalize HR—there are cameras in the boardroom.
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