69
The soft hum of the printer was almost meditative.
Amanda stood at the long table in the copy room, organizing stacks of color lookbook proofs for next season's pitch. Her fingers moved with practiced precision—square edges aligned, page numbers flipped, margins checked.
She'd been grateful for the quiet. The morning had been full—calls, pacing, soft glances exchanged with Ericka that meant everything and nothing all at once. Now, in the stillness, she could catch her breath.
Until the door opened behind her with a gentle click.
"Alone in the wild," Ava said, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe with a casual smile. "Didn't think I'd ever catch you off-leash."
Amanda smiled over her shoulder. "Had to give the leash holder a break at some point."
Ava laughed, stepping inside. "You're funny. I always thought you were the serious one."
"I am," Amanda replied, eyes dropping back to the proofs. "But I'm also funny-serious. We're a niche breed."
Ava moved closer, her tone dropping just enough to feel like more than friendly. "Honestly? You surprise me."
Amanda's brow rose slightly, though she kept her focus on the layout in her hands. "Oh?"
"Yeah." Ava picked up a sample card and ran her thumb along the edge, like she was stalling. "I've been watching you for a while—at presentations, in team briefings, walking Ericka through pitch decks like a damn pro."
Amanda glanced up with a neutral smile. "That's the job."
"No," Ava said, "that's you. You carry yourself like someone who owns every room you walk into. It's intimidating. Kind of magnetic."
Amanda stilled, just slightly, hand hovering above a stack of proofs.
"I'm not trying to be weird," Ava added, softer now. "I just... I've had my eye on you for a while. You're kind of impossible not to notice."
Amanda turned toward her fully this time, folding her arms gently across her chest.
"I appreciate that," she said carefully. "But I don't really mix business with... anything else."
Ava shrugged, a smile still playing on her lips. "Fair. But that hasn't stopped half the office from wondering what's going on between you and Ericka."
Amanda's stomach dipped.
She gave nothing away.
"People love to speculate," she said lightly. "Especially when it comes to women in power."
Ava tilted her head. "So there's nothing going on?"
Before Amanda could answer, Ava stepped just a little closer and gently touched her arm—fingertips light on the inside of her elbow.
"Because if there isn't," Ava continued, "I'd really like to take you out sometime. Get to know the woman behind the clipboard."
Amanda didn't move.
She didn't answer.
Not because she didn't know what to say—but because in that moment, the air shifted.
The door opened behind them with a soft snick.
Ericka.
She stood there, framed in glass and fluorescent light, her face unreadable, her body language perfectly neutral—but her eyes landed immediately on Ava's hand.
And Amanda's.
Ava pulled back instinctively, her fingers falling to her side. "Oh—hey, Ericka. Just going over proofs."
Ericka's voice was cool, but clipped. "Amanda, I need you for the Paris call."
Amanda nodded once, grabbing the top stack of lookbooks. "Right away."
Ava smiled, ever unbothered. "Catch you later?"
Amanda gave a small, professional nod. "Of course."
She stepped past Ericka, the space between them charged and humming, and kept walking.
Behind her, she heard Ericka say, calm as ever: "Thank you, Ava. I'll handle it from here."
Amanda barely had time to set the lookbook proofs on the edge of Ericka's desk before the door clicked shut behind her. It wasn't slammed. It wasn't even loud.
But it echoed.
Quietly.
Deliberately.
She turned.
Ericka stood with her back to the door, arms crossed, expression unreadable—but her eyes?
Oh, her eyes were fire.
Amanda kept her tone light. "So... Paris call?"
"Scheduled for eleven," Ericka said smoothly, pushing off the door. "But that's not why I needed you in here."
Amanda raised a brow, hands settling on her hips. "Is this about Ava?"
Ericka didn't answer immediately. She walked around her desk, one finger trailing across the smooth edge, slow and deliberate. "She touched you."
"She brushed my arm," Amanda corrected, amused.
"She flirted."
Amanda tilted her head. "People flirt all the time."
"Not with you."
There it was—the flicker of something dark and possessive curling beneath Ericka's otherwise flawless composure.
Amanda stepped closer. "Are we... jealous, Miss Mathews?"
Ericka looked up at her then, eyes cool but glittering. "Do I look jealous?"
Amanda smirked. "No. You look like someone plotting how to fire an entire department over a five-second interaction."
Ericka didn't smile. But her voice dropped a little lower. "You're mine."
Amanda's breath caught—but only for a second. "That's bold for a woman who told me to be professional ten minutes ago."
Ericka rounded the desk fully now, stopping just in front of her. Close enough that Amanda could feel the heat radiating from her skin, could smell the trace of her perfume—clean and sharp and so unmistakably her.
"You want professional?" Ericka asked, voice smooth as silk. "I can do professional."
Amanda leaned in, her voice brushing the space between them. "No, you want to mark your territory. Admit it. Seeing someone else look at me like that..."
Ericka's gaze dropped to Amanda's lips. "...made me want to remind you who gets to kiss you and fuck you any time any place."
Amanda grinned. "So remind me."
But Ericka didn't move.
Didn't touch her.
Instead, she leaned in close—her mouth right beside Amanda's ear—and whispered, "Later."
Amanda shivered.
"Later?" she echoed, breathlessly.
Ericka's smirk returned, smug and wicked. "When we're not ten feet from glass walls and two departments who'd love to start rumors."
Amanda stepped back with a soft laugh, straightening her blouse. "You're no fun."
"I'm all the fun," Ericka said, already moving back toward her chair, all confidence and control again. "But I play the long game."
Amanda reached for the door handle, glancing back over her shoulder. "Then I hope you're ready to win."
Ericka didn't look up, but her voice followed Amanda out the door.
"I already did."