102
The conference room was all glass and sunlight, a modern space that reflected the skyline back at itself.
Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city beyond, but inside, the mood was all business.
The low hum of conversation mixed with the quiet tapping of keyboards, the clink of coffee cups against saucers.
Ericka stood at the head of the table, immaculate in a charcoal blazer, scanning the agenda on her tablet.
The rest of the team was settling in, shuffling papers, exchanging quick updates.
Amanda sat three seats down, posture straight, expression calm — but her eyes kept flicking to the clock like she was counting down to something.
When the room stilled, Ericka began, her voice crisp.
"Alright, let's finalize the spring campaign updates and—"
Amanda cleared her throat softly but deliberately.
"If I could... I'd like to start with something."
Every head turned toward her. Ericka's brows arched.
"Something?"
Amanda rose, carrying her laptop to the front of the room. "Yes. It's an idea I've been developing. Off the books. Nights, weekends... whenever I could steal the time. I didn't want to bring it up until I had something worth showing."
The murmur in the room quieted. Ericka leaned one hand against the table, a smirk just beginning. "You've got my attention."
Amanda connected her laptop to the projector, and the screen came alive.
The first slide hit like a shot of espresso: bold, clean typography reading "AFTER HOURS" layered over a photograph of two models on a rain-slick street, neon lights reflecting off their jackets.
Amanda's voice was steady, confident.
"This campaign is built around the idea that fashion doesn't clock out when the sun goes down.
It's moody, unapologetic, and alive. The kind of energy that belongs to the night — but still feels aspirational.
We want viewers to feel like they're part of an exclusive world, even if they're only seeing it from the sidewalk. "
She advanced the slides — rich color palettes of deep indigos and electric pinks, moody location shots of rooftop bars and dimly lit alleyways, flashes of statement pieces under streetlamps. Even the slogans pulsed with energy: Own the Night. Dress Like It's Yours.
Ericka's gaze stayed locked on Amanda, something shifting in her expression. This wasn't her assistant making a suggestion. This was Amanda commanding the room.
Amanda finished with a subtle smile. "I know this isn't on the official calendar, but I believe it could capture a market we're not fully reaching — people who live for the after-hours world, but still value style at its peak."
The room was still for a beat, then a wave of murmurs rose. Someone near the end of the table muttered, "That's... actually brilliant." Heads were nodding. Pages were flipping back to jot notes.
Ericka stepped forward, her heels clicking softly against the floor. "How long have you been working on this?"
Amanda shrugged lightly, though her eyes gleamed. "A couple of months. I wanted to prove I could pull it off before I brought it to you."
The smallest smile curved Ericka's mouth — pride, surprise, and maybe something else. "Well... you didn't just pull it off. You just raised the bar."
Amanda's smirk deepened. "That was the goal."
Ericka turned toward the team, her tone shifting into CEO mode.
"Alright. We're voting right now. All in favor of moving 'After Hours' into the campaign slate?"
Hands shot up — first a few, then nearly every person at the table. Even the skeptics looked convinced.
Ericka scanned the room, then turned back to Amanda with an approving nod. "Looks unanimous. Congratulations, Amanda. You just got yourself a campaign."
The moment the meeting ended, Amanda was still closing her laptop when Ericka's voice rang out across the room.
"Amanda," she said smoothly, her tone all business to anyone else — but Amanda caught the subtle warmth hidden underneath. "In my office. Now."
A few heads turned. Amanda nodded without hesitation. "Yes, ma'am."
The walk down the hall felt slower than usual. Amanda could feel Ericka's presence just behind her, close enough that her fingertips almost brushed the small of Amanda's back, but not quite — not where anyone could see.
Once the office door shut, Ericka locked it with a soft click, then walked over to the blinds and tilted them shut until the golden light wrapped the room in privacy.
"You didn't tell me you were working on that campaign," she said, leaning back on the desk with her arms crossed. The professional mask was still there, but her eyes gave her away.
Amanda stepped forward, letting a playful smirk pull at her lips. "And ruin the surprise?"
"I don't like surprises," Ericka replied, though her mouth curved. "But this one..." She pushed off the desk and closed the distance between them. "This one was perfect. You owned that room."
Amanda tilted her head, lowering her voice. "Guess I've been learning from the best."
Ericka's restraint cracked just enough for her to slide a hand around Amanda's waist and pull her closer until their bodies aligned. The warmth between them was instant, magnetic.
"You don't understand what you do to me when you take control," Ericka murmured, her voice low and full of want.
Amanda's smirk deepened. "I have an idea."
That was all the permission Ericka needed.
She kissed Amanda like she'd been waiting all day for it — firm, hungry, pulling her in until Amanda's hips pressed against hers.
Amanda's fingers threaded into Ericka's hair, tugging her closer, deepening the kiss until it turned into something that made both of them forget where they were.
Ericka's hands roamed, sliding up Amanda's back, over her sides, and lingering at her waist before pulling her even tighter. Amanda pressed back with just as much heat, her lips moving against Ericka's in a rhythm they both knew too well.
They broke for air only to dive right back in, lips finding each other again, faster, more urgent.
Amanda's back brushed against the edge of the desk, and Ericka's hands landed there too, bracketing her in.
"I don't want to stop," Ericka breathed, her voice thick.
Amanda's lips brushed her jawline as she murmured, "Then maybe we should step out to the car... like last time."
Ericka's eyes widened, her breath catching — and then she smiled that slow, dangerous smile. "Or we could just do it right here on this desk... or maybe right in front of the window."
Before Amanda could reply, she slid her hands around Ericka's thighs and lifted her clean off the floor. Ericka gasped at the sudden move, instinctively gripping Amanda's shoulders for balance.
The sound made Amanda grin. "Careful... I might get used to that reaction."
Ericka smirked through her shallow breathing. "You can have whatever you want, right here, right now."
Amanda chuckled low, carrying her the short distance and setting her down firmly in her own leather chair at the desk. She leaned in, hands braced on the armrests, her mouth close to Ericka's ear. "What I want... is for you to cool down. For now."
Instead of backing off, Ericka caught Amanda's wrist, her touch deliberate, and guided her hand just beneath the hem of her skirt — resting it high on her thigh. Her eyes never left Amanda's. The gesture wasn't about crossing lines; it was about sending a message.
"You call this cooling down?" Amanda teased, her voice dropping lower.
"I call it reminding you exactly what's waiting for you later," Ericka murmured.
Amanda smirked, slowly pulling her hand back and leaning close enough for her lips to graze Ericka's cheek. "You're lucky we're at work."
Ericka gave a knowing smile. "Or maybe you're the lucky one."