Page 53
Story: Sexting the Billionaire
"Can we focus on the current poor decision, please?" I request with as much dignity as I can muster. "I need actual advice, not a greatest hits compilation of Cassie's Questionable Choices."
Olivia takes a sip of her mimosa before leaning forward, suddenly serious. "Okay, real talk. If you're going to do this—and it sounds like you already are—you need a strategy. Office gossip spreads faster than a sample sale stampede."
"We've already agreed to be completely professional at work."
"Honey, people can smell sexual tension from three floors away. You'll need code words, separate arrivals and departures, an ironclad story for when you're together." She's ticking points off on her fingers. "And you'll need to control your face, which currently broadcasts 'I've seen Roman Kade naked' in neon letters."
I grimace. "Is it that obvious?"
"To me? Yes. To others? Maybe not yet. But you light up like a Christmas tree every time you talk about him."
"Great," I mutter. "Maybe I should just wear a paper bag over my head at the office."
"Or we could come up with a system." Olivia's eyes gleam with the excitement of conspiracy. "Like, when you need to discuss him, we call him... The Eagle."
I almost spit out my drink. "The Eagle? What is this, a spy movie?"
"Fine, you pick the code name."
"We are not giving Roman a code name," I say firmly. "That's ridiculous."
"The Situation?"
"No."
"The Asset?"
"Stop."
"Ooh, I know—The Package!"
"I'm begging you," I groan. "Just use his actual name. It's not like it's unusual enough that people will know who we're talking about."
"Fine, be boring." She sighs dramatically. "But we do need some protocols. Like, what's your plan for office functions? Industry events? The next time you're both at the same meeting and you remember what his abs feel like?"
The vivid image makes me flush. "I'll be professional. I did manage to work with him before we slept together, you know."
"Yeah, but that was different. You were in the fantasizing stage. Now you've got actual memories to contend with." She taps her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe you need a physical cue to snap yourself out of it. Like pinching yourself when you start thinking about him naked."
"I'm not discussing this anymore," I decide, focusing intently on my food.
"And what about Mia?" Olivia asks, changing tactics. "Are you going to tell her?"
I freeze, fork halfway to my mouth. In the whirlwind of the past twenty-four hours, I'd almost forgotten about my sister. "God, no. Absolutely not."
"She's going to figure it out eventually," Olivia points out. "You two are practically psychically linked."
"She won't if I'm careful. And she can't know, Liv. She's applying for internships at Elysian. If anyone found out her sister was sleeping with the CEO..."
"It would look like nepotism," Olivia finishes for me, understanding dawning. "The sister angle complicates things."
"Exactly. That's why this has to stay completely secret. Not just for my career, but for Mia's too."
As if summoned by the mention of her name, my phone buzzes with a text from Mia:
Tuition payment still showing as pending? Everything ok with the transfer?
"Speak of the devil," I mutter, quickly typing back:
Olivia takes a sip of her mimosa before leaning forward, suddenly serious. "Okay, real talk. If you're going to do this—and it sounds like you already are—you need a strategy. Office gossip spreads faster than a sample sale stampede."
"We've already agreed to be completely professional at work."
"Honey, people can smell sexual tension from three floors away. You'll need code words, separate arrivals and departures, an ironclad story for when you're together." She's ticking points off on her fingers. "And you'll need to control your face, which currently broadcasts 'I've seen Roman Kade naked' in neon letters."
I grimace. "Is it that obvious?"
"To me? Yes. To others? Maybe not yet. But you light up like a Christmas tree every time you talk about him."
"Great," I mutter. "Maybe I should just wear a paper bag over my head at the office."
"Or we could come up with a system." Olivia's eyes gleam with the excitement of conspiracy. "Like, when you need to discuss him, we call him... The Eagle."
I almost spit out my drink. "The Eagle? What is this, a spy movie?"
"Fine, you pick the code name."
"We are not giving Roman a code name," I say firmly. "That's ridiculous."
"The Situation?"
"No."
"The Asset?"
"Stop."
"Ooh, I know—The Package!"
"I'm begging you," I groan. "Just use his actual name. It's not like it's unusual enough that people will know who we're talking about."
"Fine, be boring." She sighs dramatically. "But we do need some protocols. Like, what's your plan for office functions? Industry events? The next time you're both at the same meeting and you remember what his abs feel like?"
The vivid image makes me flush. "I'll be professional. I did manage to work with him before we slept together, you know."
"Yeah, but that was different. You were in the fantasizing stage. Now you've got actual memories to contend with." She taps her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe you need a physical cue to snap yourself out of it. Like pinching yourself when you start thinking about him naked."
"I'm not discussing this anymore," I decide, focusing intently on my food.
"And what about Mia?" Olivia asks, changing tactics. "Are you going to tell her?"
I freeze, fork halfway to my mouth. In the whirlwind of the past twenty-four hours, I'd almost forgotten about my sister. "God, no. Absolutely not."
"She's going to figure it out eventually," Olivia points out. "You two are practically psychically linked."
"She won't if I'm careful. And she can't know, Liv. She's applying for internships at Elysian. If anyone found out her sister was sleeping with the CEO..."
"It would look like nepotism," Olivia finishes for me, understanding dawning. "The sister angle complicates things."
"Exactly. That's why this has to stay completely secret. Not just for my career, but for Mia's too."
As if summoned by the mention of her name, my phone buzzes with a text from Mia:
Tuition payment still showing as pending? Everything ok with the transfer?
"Speak of the devil," I mutter, quickly typing back:
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