Take the contract home with you, he'd told me. So I did. Read it carefully before you go to bed. Read it again when you wake up. Set it aside and look at it when you're frustrated. Angry. Come back to it again when you're calm and relaxed.

Be sure, he'd said to me with a thread of hunger rounding the edges of his compelling voice. Be very sure, Laura, before you sign.

So, I did as he'd asked. In the interim I made sure to take care of few of the courtesies by checking in with my doctor for a complete and thorough medical examination. Though I was always careful with lovers, there were some things you just did because...well, because it was polite. And smart. With a clean bill of health, I was then moved on to other terms and provisos.

Expectations. Demands. Conditions.   

I made notes where I had questions, and comments where I had potential concerns. Over the course of a week we discussed and negotiated. Drafted and redrafted. And now, almost a week later, the final copy lay before me on my desk. The hour was late and the office was quiet. This was when I often put in my best work at Iconic. In the calm and emptiness of the near midnight hour. Surrounded by the stillness of my four walls.

And I had more then just Shade's contract keeping me behind afterhours. With the merger came a unique set of circumstances that I was hoping to pitch to him in the morning. But now that the presentation was fine tuned, all of my figures lined up, with only my desk lamp on for light, I stared at those white pages, at the fine black print of the contract and rolled my fountain pen between my thumb and forefinger.

Be sure...his warning echoed back to me. Be. Sure.

Unscrewing the cap of my pen, I signed with a quick flourish of the wrist, committing more than just my name to paper. Scanning the document to my laptop along with my signed Confidentiality Agreement, I attached the PDF's to an email and typed a quite note in the body:

I trust the attached puts everything in order?

Pausing for a quick moment of reflection, I chewed the inside of my bottom lip, tapping my thumb against the cursor. And added: See you tomorrow. Sir.

 ***

I don't know if it was nerves or excitement that had me waking at near the crack of dawn, but for the first time in longer then I can recall, I was up well before my usual five am. Revved, I decided to burn off the extra energy in the gym I frequented before or after work hours, taking pleasure in having most of the facility free to myself.

Refreshed and revitalized, swinging in to Iconic was a quick cab ride and still gave me plenty of time to put my pitch and myself together. Slung over my shoulder was an oversized Michael Kors tote and inside the presentation I'd devoted the rest of my early morning to tweaking.

Disembarking from the elevator on the top floor Iconic reserved for our in and out of town Board of Directors, my stomach clutched with an involuntary niggling of envy. The Directors had wasted no time, it seemed, or expense, in transforming the corner suite I'd had my eye on into Tristan's new pied-a-terre. Contractors had worked round the clock for the last week, ripping out the separating wall and gutting two large suites to create the massive domain. All hidden behind floor to ceiling doors of polished wood instead of the pristine clear glass that had been there before.

Tucked in an alcove near them was a serious looking brunette, all legs and sharp brown eyes. She snapped her head in my direction as I drew closer, rising to cut me off.

"You're early."

"Oooh. Five whole minutes." I drew my lips into a thin, tight smile. I remembered her from when she'd assisted my predecessor, George Wyatt. I hadn't liked her back then, either. "Thank you for pointing that out."

"You'll have to wait."

I inhaled slowly, imaging my thread of patience as a strand of hair wound around two fingers until taught. "Excuse me?"

"I said, you'll have to—"

"I heard you the first time,"—you twit— "Why don't you make yourself useful and, I don't know, fetch some coffee? Bottled water, perhaps?"

Those narrow, angular cheeks of hers drew in and flushed beneath the layers of her cheap makeup.

Bitch, I thought, you wish you had my skin tone.

"Ms. Pierce, I—"

She fell silent as the doors to Tristan's office parted and his head poked through. Seeing us, toe-to-toe and all but foaming at the mouth, he inclined a brow. "Problem, ladies?"

"Not at all." Nudging his assistant aside, I entered his office and shut the door behind me. "You should do something about that bulldog you have out there."

"Marcia?" Tristan glanced at me distractedly then turned back towards the closed door with a frown. "Bulldog? Hardly. She may be a touch protective, but she's a fine assistant. Sharp, capable. And doesn't fluster easily. You'd be surprised how hard that is to come by."

Joining me at the twin settees, Tristan sat down opposite me and crossed an ankle at the knee. "I've got a busy day lined up, why don't we just get straight to matters and save a discussion about assistants for another day?"

"Fine." Reaching into my purse, I pulled out the presentation, handed it across to him.

"What's this?"

"A proposal I pitched to the Board last quarter." I paused a moment, waiting until he'd turned through the first couple of pages, watching with rapt attention for every flicker and facet of emotion to cross his face.

As usual, there wasn't much to go on save a slight rise of his left brow, a brief and almost imperceptible purse of his lips. Licking the pad of a finger, he leisurely turned another page. And another. 

"You're thinking of landing Nishizawa?"

"Yes." I took a steadying breath, told myself to remember my pitch, to keep on track and highlight the facts, not the hype. "He's extended his hotel chain into Beijing, Shanghai and Hong Kong. But his marketing scheme is overreached and they're not seeing the flow through. Take a look at his stock performance."

"Hm." Tristan nodded, now halfway through the presentation. "Yes. A bit disappointing. I remember the headlines weren't promising." His eyes lifted briefly to mine. "I see why the Board hedged, however. A significant amount of capital would be required in order to...finesse this campaign."

"Yes." I waved a hand, crossing a leg to mask the tremor. "Too risky, they said. Iconic didn't have deep enough pockets, at the time. Our stock price was suffering and our assets were drying up thanks to a tough economic climate. But the merger with Shade Enterprises changed all of that. Money is no longer an issue, and our stock has seen an exponential increase in the last three months. If my projections are accurate—"

"The return would far exceed the payout," Tristan finished, nodding slightly. "I have to say, I'm impressed by your insight and ingenuity. And you think you can bring him in? Even if he's presently being courted by Diverse?"

War fired in my blood. "Absolutely."  

"That's what I like to hear." He set the presentation down next to him, smoothed down the pages. "I'll look it over and give it due consideration, Ms. Pierce."

I swallowed quickly, my palms clammy with repressed excitement. "So...you'll really consider it?"

"You have my word."

 "Good." Rising, I angled my head in parting and turned to leave when his voice called out to me, soft and smooth as silk.

"I also received your email this morning."

I bit my bottom lip, containing my smile as I glanced back at him.  

"I'd like to see you this weekend, Ms. Pierce. We have other matters to...attend to." He sat, arms stretched on either side of him, his legs slightly spread and a look in his eyes that was anything but professional.

"Looking forward to it. Mr. Shade."

***

"Darling." Jacqueline breezed in, a frazzled ball of over stressed energy, lines of fatigue etched in her pretty face. I shut my door behind her as she flopped face first into my couch and groaned loudly, still dressed in a suit rumpled from ten hours on a plane. "Did I ever tell you how much I hate dealing with bankers?" she asked, her head lifting to glare at me over the back of my couch.

"Yes," I smirked, rounding into my kitchen for the customary bottle of wine. "But feel free to enlighten me for the umpteenth time. The story never gets old."

"Men," Jacqueline snarled, joining me at the barstools set around my island. "You'd swear I walked into that meeting wearing a pink tutu and lime green hair. Why is it about doing business with a woman that makes them such idiots?"

I shrugged both shoulders, batted my lash expressively. "Because we're the delicate, fairer—insert: incapable—sex? Let me guess, they tried to talk over you? Around you? Pretend like you weren't in the room."

"And!" Jacqueline seethed, snatching her glass from my grasp, almost sloshing the chardonnay, "Damn jerks had the nerve to glare at me every time I spoke up, like I was a talking potted plant or a homeless bum who waltzed in from off the street and had no business being in that room at all. Bastards."

"Ooh," I shook my head, pouring out a glass for myself. "So what did Tornado Jacquie do next?"

A glint of devious delight flashed across her pretty little round face, her lips turned up smugly at the corners. "Mopped the floor with their numbers and figures. By the end of the afternoon, their heads were spinning like tops on their shoulders. Not one of them could keep up. It was beautiful."

"Atta girl." I gave her shoulder a proud punch. "Kick 'em in the balls and show 'em who's boss."

"Wish you could have been there. Remember that long weekend we had in London together?"

"Course," I said, turning my thoughts back to that fond distant memory we had both been in traveling on business and used our downtime to do some serious damage in the London bars. "But it comes second to Tokyo. Remember Tokyo?"

"Oh, man. That was epic." Swallowing a large gulp, Jacqueline moaned. "You know, maybe we should go hit up a bar? Some swanky, upscale spot? Dress to the nines and drive the men of Manhattan wild? Hell, maybe even bring one home. Lord knows my sheets have been dust dry since last November. What do you think?"

"I would...only," I sipped my wine to try and smother my budding smile, "I guess you can say...I've met someone."

"Someone?" Jacqueline's spine shot straight. "You little slut, I've only been gone a couple of days. When? Who?"

"Can't say."

"Are you serious? Don't pull that shit with me! Spill!"

"I signed a...Confidentiality Agreement."

"A Conf—" those quizzical brown eyes of hers popped wide and an astonished grin near cut her face in half. "Holy shit! Holy shit! You're sleeping with Shade?" 

"Jacquie," I groaned, laughing. I couldn't hide a damn thing from her even if I wanted to. "Please. I really can't tell you."

"Oh, Lord, woman, give me a damn CA and I'll sign the dotted line, okay? His secrets are your secrets are my secrets, blah, blah blah. Come on, you know you can trust me."

"Alright, but I can't tell you...everything. There are elements too," I paused, searching for the right word, "risky."

"Oh shit," Jacqueline muttered. "So, not all of the rumors weren't true then, eh? He's a bit of a freak in the sheets? Hey, I'm not judging," she added when I moved to defend him. "If a man like Tristan Shade wanted to tie me down and spank me, I'd be out buying the damn riding crop and spurs." She leaned forward, setting her chin on her fist, dangling her glass in her other hand. "What's he like? Is he big? He must be big," those manicured brows wiggled. "Cause he looks like he's packing some serious heat."

"How would you know?"

"It's a gift."

I removed the cork from the bottle, topped up my glass. "Well, I couldn't tell you as we haven't had sex yet."

Jacqueline's face slid into a pout. "Seriously? The hell is wrong with you? Go over there right now and jump him. Then come straight home and give me the dirty details. In vivid language, please. I'm deprived."   

"Soon." I promised, giggling at her frown. "I'm spending the weekend with him at his place."  

"This weekend?" her voice whispered out, full of envy. "Oh Jesus, damn you, Laura Pierce. I am so jealous. Now I have to wait until Monday before I can get the goods?"

I bit my lip, than leaned in a little closer, "Well, I guess I give you a little something to tide you

Jacqueline mirrored my movements, bringing us almost nose to nose.

"Cross my heart," she vowed.

Dedidated to @hramly - Thank You for always coming back for more. This likely wouldn't have continued without your avid interest and kind praise.