Page 12 of Selfish Suit (Steamy Latte Reads Collection #1)

THE INTERN

IVY

I probably only need twenty minutes to pack everything I own, but I take my time under Dominic’s gaze, wanting to hold on to some sense of control. Some bit of agency.

As we ride back to his side of town, I try to stir up conversation, but he doesn’t look bothered by the silence.

He keeps his gaze straight ahead, one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting casually on the center console.

Every few minutes, a call comes through his dashboard, and he answers and ends each one in under a minute.

They’re all about work.

As we pass the Manhattan Bridge, my phone vibrates in my purse.

Nolan (BF… I think?)

Hey babe. Hope you’ve been doing well. I know our six-month break has been hard on you, and it’s been hard on me, too…

I heard you got a promotion?

Going back to work, just wanted to reach out 3

Oh my god.

I silence my phone and drop it deeper into my bag.

When I look up again, we’re pulling in front of a sleek black building on Billionaire’s Row. I bite my lip to stop myself from gasping.

The underground garage greets us with bright white lights, high ceilings, and polished marble floors that reflect the car’s headlights.

A man in a suit approaches the moment Dominic parks.

“Good evening, Mr. Sutton,” he says, tipping his hat before walking over to open my door.

“Good evening, Mitchell. This is Ivy Locke.” Dominic steps beside me. “Ivy, this is Mitchell. He manages all my affairs in this building.”

“Nice to meet you.” I offer my hand, but Mitchell lifts it to his lips for a swift kiss.

“There are two other cars on the way with her things,” Dominic says. “I’d like everything delivered into her temporary new space—the guest suite—by midnight.”

“No, that’s okay.” I shake my head. “I won’t be living here that long. I can give you a storage address instead.”

“I’ll handle it exactly as you want, sir.” Mitchell doesn’t acknowledge me. After another tip of his hat, he’s gone.

Dominic presses a key fob, and the elevator ahead opens with a soft chime.

“Tracey will show you some apartment options this week,” he says.

“Just so we’re clear,” I say, following him inside, “I won’t be sleeping in your bed or your room during my stay here.”

“Okay, Miss Locke.”

“I’m being serious,” I add. “And it would make me more comfortable with this situation if I had a couch far away from your bedroom.”

“You’ll have an entire guest suite to yourself.” He glances over at me, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Do you just enjoy arguing and making your life more difficult, or do you really mean the shit you say?”

I don’t answer. I just wait until the elevator reaches his floor.

The doors open directly into the penthouse, and I try not to gasp.

Floor-to-ceiling windows cast Manhattan in soft sundown hues of gold. Sleek grey furniture guards matching marble floors that look untouched, like no footsteps have ever dared cross them.

I walk in slowly, drawn toward the main window. The city stretches beneath us in every direction—rooftops, bridges, water, light. I can see everything I’ve never had access to. And none of where I came from.

“Would you like a tour?” he asks behind me.

I nod, my eyes still on the skyline.

He walks ahead, and I follow. The all-white kitchen is spotless, lit to perfection, and finished in polished marble and chrome. Industrial-grade appliances line the back wall.

“This summons the chef.” He taps a small brass button near the pantry. “He’s usually here by four on weekdays. Six on weekends.”

Why did you ever need to use Uber Eats if you have a personal chef?

“He was out of town that day.” He narrows his eyes at me, and I realize I said it aloud. I blush.

“Anyway…” He continues the tour, showing me a private library, a state-of-the-art spa room, and finally, a suite decorated in light blue and rustic silver tones.

My jaw drops before I can stop myself.

Inside, there’s a separate sitting area, a private reading nook, and a spa-level bathroom with heated floors, a rainfall shower, and a deep soaking tub that looks like it was designed to seduce.

“Do you typically do this for new hires?” I ask, my voice even as he shows off the remote-controlled drapes.

“Do what?”

“Generously move them out of their lives and into luxury.”

“Generous?” He repeats the word like he’s tasting it. “Someone told me I was the opposite—that I’m selfish.”

“You are selfish.”

“No, I don’t typically do this.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “But if I found out any other employee of mine was living in a place like yours, I’d step in one way or another.”

I glance around again, slower this time. I don’t show much on my face, but this is the most beautiful space I’ve ever stood inside.

He takes me back through the living room and points out details in passing. In the kitchen, he opens a drawer in the fridge, showing me labeled buttons—chef, drinks, cleaning staff.

“It’s all simple once you get used to it. Most of the places Tracey will show you have similar appliances, so you should start learning them now.”

I nod. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” He checks his watch. “Be ready to go to work at four-thirty in the morning. A separate town car will be waiting… unless you’d rather share a ride with me.”

“I’ll take the car.”

“I thought so.”

He turns, but I clear my throat.

“Do I get a tour of your room?” I ask. “You left that part out.”

“On purpose.” His voice is firm. “Unless you’re planning to spend the night in my bed, I don’t see a reason why you’d ever need to see it.”

My cheeks flush, and I turn away, slipping back into the suite—and into the soaking tub, which has just earned a very cold, very long visit.