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I grin despite myself. This arrangement changes everything. Professional boundaries. Personal restraint. The distance I prefer to maintain in my business relationships.
But beneath the complications, I feel something I'm reluctant to examine too closely.
Relief.
Twelve months of working with her. Seeing her mind in action. Watching her defend what she believes in.
Twelve months of trying not to want what I definitely shouldn't want.
It's going to be the longest year of my life.
If I survive it.
LAYLA
“So let me get this straight.” Serena's face fills my phone screen, her perfectly shaped eyebrows climbing toward her hairline. “Your dad went full helicopter parent and forced Bennett to keep you on?”
I adjust my position to hide the chaos of my desk, covered with papers scattered like confetti after a particularly violent parade. “That's the short version.”
“And now you're playing nice with Mr. Wrong Number every day?” Her grin could power half of Chicago. “How's that working out for your lady parts?”
“Serena!” Heat floods my cheeks. “It's barely been a week, and we’ve been in the same room twice. We agreed to keep it professional, and that’s what we’re doing.”
“Right. The two people I watched grind it on the dance floor last weekend can keep things professional.” She takes a deliberate sip from her mug, the words ‘I'm not arguing, I'm just explaining why I'm right,’emblazoned in hot pink. “I suppose we could reframe it as—what? Corporate team building?”
Just thinking about that dance floor burns hotter than all the tequila I drank. I can still feel his hands on my waist, his thigh between mine, that growl in my ear…Oh god.My thighs clench involuntarily.
“That was a mistake caused by too many shots,” I say. “It won't happen again.”
“That's what they all say before it happens again. And now you're stuck working with him for a whole year.” She fans herself dramatically. “If I were you, I’d bite clean through my lip just imagining the things he could do to me, both on andunder, that board table. I mean, I’m only a bystander, but the way he moves says he’d beamazingin?—”
“Three hundred and forty-two jobs are riding on this, Serena.” I have to cut her off before I combust.
“Seems like there could be other things riding too,” she says, waggling her eyebrows.
“New subject!” I check the time desperately. “The NeuraTech demo starts in fifteen.”
“Fine, but drinks this weekend are non-negotiable. Audrey's in. You're going to spill every dirty detail about working with that sex god in a suit.”
I end the call before she can see my face flame brighter. And before she tricks me into admitting what we both know is true. Being near Bennett every day without touching him will its own special torture. Like being on a diet in a chocolate factory. We might have agreed to keep things simple between us, but the dreams I keep waking up in a mess from have very different agendas.
Focus, Layla. People need their jobs. Not your hormones.
There’s a knock on my door, and Audrey pokes her head in. “You ready?”
“Definitely.” I grab my tablet and follow her out, relieved for a distraction from my thoughts. “How's it going in the lab?”
“Chaotic? But we got the prototype running without any major fires.”
“Really?”
She laughs. “You sound so shocked.”
“I'm just so used to things going wrong,” I admit. “Like a recall making us target practice for a company like Mercer.”
“It's too early to celebrate,” she warns. “But the initial tests are promising. We're getting clearer signals than expected.”
“More than what we had at the last milestone?”