Texting Pete with shaky hands, I hurried downstairs, far, far from Silver.

Another minute near her naked body and I'd lose it. I'd forsake all my vows to not touch her and wrap her in my arms and slide my tongue into her mouth. Over her breasts. Down her belly and between her delightful folds—

"Fuck," I said to myself, catching sight of my flushed face in the mirror in the living room.

Gigi in the kitchen clearing up some dishes, barely nodded in my direction. If I appeared flustered, it didn't faze her much as she continued about her tasks.

I flurried down the hall to the elevator, clutching my purse strap, digging my nails into the leather. Anything to not sneak a hand into my pants for a quick fix before Silver arrived. Anything to forget what I'd witnessed, and what would occupy my dreams for the foreseeable future.

I didn't have much time to myself before I heard Silver's heels clicking down the stairs.

Her perfect, hourglass silhouette approached and she joined me at the elevator. I'd pressed the button the second I sighted her arriving at the bottom of the steps, and she offered a tight smile as she noticed the floors flashing above the metallic doors.

"Pete is waiting," I said, glancing at the text I received from the driver.

Whatever I could do to not glance at her.

"Perfect." I couldn't see her, but I felt her inches away; too close yet too far.

Her rosy scent filled my nostrils and tempted me into turning my head, to glimpse her, admire the outfit she'd chosen.

No. Keep your eyes ahead.

"So, today's agenda," she said, letting out a sigh as the elevator doors pried apart and allowed us access. She pressed the B button for basement, and the doors sealed us in. "Packed."

In the enclosed space, her aroma almost immediately suffocated me. She suffocated me.

We'd been alone this whole time, but there was something about being alone with her in an elevator. No escape. No excuses. No one could see us. I had no idea if there were cameras in this machine, but I doubted someone of Silver's caliber would allow that.

I fidgeted, ensuring we were as far apart as possible as the elevator headed downward.

Last time we were in an elevator together...well, I didn't remember the actual ride much. Only her lips on mine, her hands squeezing my ass, our breasts grazing as our breaths mingled and our hearts beat as one.

Erasing those flashes from my mind proved difficult the longer she remained silent. I wasn't sure what stopped her from finishing her sentence about the agenda. Either she expected me to continue her train of thought, or something else had caught her attention.

I dared a side-glance. She was staring at her phone, scrolling. She wore a bright pink suit, and perfect makeup on her face. Smooth, tanned skin, long, black-coated lashes, a dark lipstick.

Her aura dazzled me. She was so put together, so polished, so damn intriguing and exciting all while standing so still.

Not a slither of what had happened between us earlier showed in her demeanor. No awkwardness, no discomfort at being so near me.

How did she do it? Stay so stoic while fighting the desire that drifted off of us in waves?

Unless her desire wasn't as potent as mine. But why wouldn't it be? Why else would she steer me towards watching her finger herself and thrive on my words to encourage her?

"The calendar link," she said, pointing at the screen as she looked up, catching me gawking at her.

I might as well have wiped the drool from my mouth, because that was what it felt like to admire her.

"Yes?" I perked up, trying to pretend I hadn't been staring, reimagining her caressing herself as I watched.

"It all looks great, considering how fast you had to get acquainted with my weekly agenda." She pursed her lips and locked her phone, shoving it into her purse. "Cramped, but great. You made it all fit. So remind me; what's the plan today?"

I squinted at her, forgetting my rule of not peering straight into the dark depths of her mysterious eyes. A rule I'd given myself as I hustled down the steps earlier, while messaging Pete and desperate to act like I hadn't checked her out as she masturbated to my words.

Don't look in her eyes. Don't let her seduce you.

The door dinged, and we landed in the basement parking lot. Pete had pulled up and was leaning against the car. He opened the door for us with a quick nod of greeting, and we entered the large SUV—a smaller vehicle than yesterday.

I expected Silver to sit across from me; this was a limo-like car with ample space in the back and seats facing each other. But instead, she sat beside me. In the middle spot, the most universally uncomfortable one.

I nearly glared at her to ask why, but I held my breath and figured she had her reasons. Wanting to be by me could have been one of them, but I didn't want to hold on to that hope.

Because being near was bad, wrong, and against her wishes; why would she push?

Our arms touched as we buckled up. I gritted my teeth as electricity shot up to my shoulders. I fought the urge to take her hand, to bring her fingers to my mouth to suck on them.

Her skin was so soft, I remembered. Delicate, moisturized. Lightly scented, sweet-flavored.

At the last second, I hopped to the seat across from her, unable to take the heat of sitting so close. Why she'd needed to get into the middle seat when we had so much room, I wouldn't venture to ask.

She shot me a confused glance, tipping her head to the side. I merely shrugged, pulling out my notebook, where I'd handwritten the agenda for each day of the week.

"It'll be easier to discuss this face to face, so we're not craning our necks so much," I said, glad to come up with an excuse that was halfway plausible. I peeped down at my notes; not that I needed to. I'd worked so hard on this schedule that I knew it by heart.

"Point taken," said Silver, crossing her arms, leaning back as Pete drove us off. She narrowed her gaze on me. "So, tell me all about it."

I couldn't tell if it was a test, or if she genuinely needed reminding; but I'd excel at relaying information to her, regardless. This was my job. And of course, I wanted to impress her.

She looked so damn sharp in her outfit, an intimidating gleam in her eyes, expectations in her silence.

I closed the notebook, sent one leg over the other, and took a deep breath. "Breakfast with employees of the about-to-open stores, to start." I licked my lips. "Then a walk-through of Friday's store's locale, to check on last minute details."

Silver nodded, and her lips crept into a barely-there smile. Similar to the one she'd flashed at me when she'd slithered her fingers into her crease earlier.

I blushed.

She wanted to destabilize me. Test me.

Well, I wouldn't crack.

"Lunch with investors to discuss the potential of more stores." I swallowed, as she slowly rubbed her thigh, her lips pouting, her gaze contemplative. "Then a warehouse tour in the Garment District to meet the local seamstresses who will be working on the clothing lines."

"Ah, right," she said, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. Natural waves began to form as her hair dried; she hadn't had time to blow-dry it as she'd been too busy showing me all the gorgeous angles of her pussy and how she pleasured it.

I shifted in my seat, my underwear again growing damp. She wasn't touching me, wasn't even close, yet her energy whirred around me and drew me in, pulled me closer.

I anchored my feet to the car's floor, holding on to my notebook if anything to prevent myself from doing something stupid like lean forward and—

"And in the evening?" She tapped a finger to her lips. Her eggplant-hued lipstick contrasted her bubblegum suit. I imagined myself smearing the color as I crammed my mouth to hers. Tasting hers.

"Head home to change, because you have a deluxe dinner with your second-in-command. Uh," I wrinkled my nose, racking my brain for his name, "Ya...nick?"

She giggled. "Yanic, yes," she said, a French lilt to the name. "Hot, frivolous, and charged with ideas. He's what straight women call...a gay best friend, I suppose?" She sat up, arching her spine as she glanced out the window; the car was slowing down already. "And we have dinner with him."

I gulped, then pointed at my chest. "We?"

"Eden." Silver shook her head. "What part of at my beck and call don't you understand?"

"But I thought..." I sucked in my lips, inhaled, exhaled. "I thought this was a private dinner. He's your gay best friend," I used air-quotes, "isn't he?"

Silver chuckled. "He is. But as you noticed this morning, I don't have private time, do I?"

My cheeks overheated, as if I'd been coated in lava and was on the verge of burning to a crisp. "I'm sorry."

She frowned, again shaking her head. "Quit apologizing, I mean it. I have a life separate from the world, sure, but not from my staff. We are having dinner with Yanic."

Something in her demeanor changed within seconds. She'd been perked up, poised, prepared to banter. But as the car came to a stop, any hints of her entertainment—at my expense—faded. She was in serious mode—about to go into the public eye and on her best behavior.

"Eden," she said, as Pete descended, coming around to open our door. "You're with me 24/7, I meant that. You come to all meetings, outside meals, events. You accompany me everywhere, to everything, unless I say otherwise. The only time we're apart is when you're sleeping."

I spotted a glint in her gaze, something that tingled through me. As if she wanted to add that she'd prefer to have me with her then, too. All warm and snug under her sheets, our naked bodies crushed together, our fingers wandering with ease where no one could see them.

But we were too close to the outdoors, and Pete would hear us, see her looking at me in that way, and we'd be busted.

"For this job, for us to work as a team, you must be at my side as if we were attached at the hip," she said, as the door opened.

A discreet autumn sunlight poured into my eyes.

Pete helped her out first, but as he offered his hand to me, I declined it.

"And I stay in the shadows, right?" I said, as I stood beside Silver while she adjusted her jacket.

She scoffed, not breaking character though I sensed rather than saw that she wanted to. A twitch of her lips, a wiggle of her nose; a show of wanting to be real with me, but not being able to.

We were in public, exposed. Of all places, this was where we had to keep our fantasies to ourselves. Where she had to be the boss; not the hot woman who'd removed her towel in front of me and begged me to watch her touch herself.

And I was just the assistant.

"You're not meant for shadows, Eden," she said, stepping forward, between passersby on the crowded sidewalk.

We'd been dropped before a high, tower-like building. On the ground floor, there were decals of coffee cups and plates on the glass walls. Behind those windows were quaint tables with mismatched chairs and patrons ordering from shiny, plastic menus. Not the type of place I'd expected someone as wealthy as Silver to go for breakfast.

I'd never been here; not that it wasn't up my alley. I loved the hole-in-the-wall, mom and pop style shops and restaurants, but I'd prepared for Silver to want a fancy, five-star rooftop terrace for her breakfast.

"You're too hot," she whispered, as she waited for departing patrons to allow us through the door, into the restaurant. "No shadows for you, because eventually, you'll be wearing my creations, remember? I need someone to show my clothes off as I talk."

"Silver," I breathed, as we stopped before the host's podium. The young man nodded at Silver, face alit with recognition. I forgot about her calling me hot as I peered around the bustling venue, wondering what this was all about. "What is this place?"

I didn't remember setting up a reservation here.

Silver marched past tables as if on a mission, ignoring me as I tried to keep up. No one paid us much attention, all too busy eating. Delectable scents of eggs and bacon and burnt toast reached my nose, and my stomach gurgled. The pastry I'd eaten earlier wasn't enough, apparently.

"This," said Silver, sneaking into the kitchen, with no surprise whatsoever from the staff, "is where the best coffee in New York City is. I've been coming here every day since I moved."

Best coffee, she said...yet she showed no trace of excitement about this particular brew. Nor any inkling that what she was doing was ill-viewed or adrenaline-inducing. So serious, almost grumpy.

But everyone around her fell to their feet, bent over backwards to serve her.

Odd.

She'd only been in town for a few weeks at most, and already had all the inside scoops on where to go for great coffee? Whoever her contacts were, I hoped to get the hook-up. I'd been searching for the best brew for years.

She passed a counter where a chef was chopping tomatoes. As he saw her, he smiled, stopped what he was doing, and reached for two to-go cups he'd stashed behind a cutting board.

"Added a special ingredient," the man said, winking at her. He winked at me, too, but I had no clue how to respond, too surprised by the exchange. I felt ambushed into this situation that I didn't understand.

Silver handed me one of the cups and insisted when I hesitated. "Trust me," she said, as we whirled out of the restaurant, the same way we'd come in.

Pete was waiting. He let us back into the car, and we took off.

Inside the vehicle, Silver's facade of stern boss-lady evaporated. She melted as she held the to-go cup up, sniffing in its wondrous aroma.

"What...what was that?" I took a sip of the coffee as she urged me to. My eyes widened as the most delicious, delicate, utopian taste filled up my mouth. "What the fuck is this?" I gasped at my cussing.

Silver smirked. "Like I said, best coffee in town. Don't ask." She raised a hand, and her smirk grew. "I won't tell you how I found out. But as I anticipate this overrated place that we're going to for breakfast will have sub-par coffee, I had to come here first."

I checked the time. We were five minutes from missing the breakfast I'd scheduled.

"Silver, why didn't you tell me? I'd have rearranged things."

She chortled. "With how packed that schedule is? I mean," she sucked in her lips, "thank you, because it's perfect. But there was no way I'd go into that breakfast without good coffee. Sorry." She jutted her chin at my cup. "Are you really going to be upset about it?"

As much as I wanted to grimace, to pout, I couldn't. The coffee was exquisite.

Silver was exquisite.

Locked in the backseat of this car with her, sipping on the beverage, trying not to scowl but also avoiding imagining her licking the coffee from my tongue—

So this was the life of a high-profile fashion brand CEO? Last-minute stops to hidden gems for award-winning coffee? Heated encounters in her bedroom without even touching? Attending meals with high-profile clients and personal friends?

Exciting, spontaneous, daring. I never thought I'd score such a luxurious gig. Exhausting, and exhilarating all at once. And side-by-side with a ravishing woman I'd never even created in my wildest, spiciest dreams.