7. Knox
KNOX
It’s not like me to let women stay over.
In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I allowed it, especially here in my own apartment.
But as I stand there, looking at her sprawled across my bed, hair tangled and face still soft with sleep, I feel no trace of regret.
If anything, it’s the opposite. I can’t remember the last time I slept this well.
I place a mug of coffee on the nightstand beside her.
The sound is barely audible, but it makes her stir nonetheless.
Her lashes flutter, and then her eyes find mine.
For a moment, she looks dazed, unsure where she is.
Then it hits her, and she slowly pushes herself upright, reaching for her phone on the table.
It’s nine in the morning.
I’m usually at the office by seven. I’m the first one in and the last one out, but today, I let myself break the routine for a few hours. Just this once.
“Sorry,” she murmurs with a yawn, glancing from the phone to the steaming mug. Even with sleep still clinging to her, she looks beautiful. Effortlessly so. “I slept in. That never happens.”
A small smile tugs at my mouth. “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t sure how you take your coffee, so I made it the way I like mine. Black, no sugar. If you’d prefer something else—”
“That’s perfect,” she interrupts me, her fingers curling around the mug. Her nails tap against the ceramic—the same ones that clawed across my back last night, leaving faint reminders I can still feel. She lifts the mug, meeting my gaze over the rim. “Exactly how I like it, too.”
I already know I want to see her again, but for some reason, saying it out loud feels too revealing. Instead, I keep quiet and tell myself I’ll handle it later by booking her again through The Network, like I’m supposed to.
We sip our coffee in a comfortable silence. Every now and then, she asks a question, and I answer, and it’s the circle I could easily get used to. When the time comes for her to leave, I watch her as she moves around the room.
The way she pulls her dress from the chair.
The way she flips her hair over her shoulder, smooths her lipstick, and adjusts the straps of her underwear before the fabric falls back into place.
She’s beautiful, from the way she looks to how effortlessly she carries herself. There’s grace in every little thing she does, and those are all the things that I’ve never taken the time to notice in a woman before.
While she’s getting ready, I reach for my phone and order her a taxi so it’ll be waiting downstairs when she’s done.
At last, she turns to me, and that familiar smile spreads across her face.
It’s the same smile I’d seen in her photos on her profile before booking her, and the smile I’m sure will remain embedded in my mind, whether I want it or not.
“I’ve had a wonderful time,” she says, tilting her head slightly. “Even if the night didn’t go exactly as planned.”
“Likewise,” I say, and this time I don’t hold back. “I’d like to see you again.”
Her smile softens, but there’s still a spark in her eyes. “In that case, you know where to find me.”
She hesitates for just a second before leaning in to press a soft kiss against my cheek. I have to stop myself from reaching out to rest my hand on her hip so that I can hold her closer.
“A taxi’s waiting for you downstairs,” I manage to say as she steps back. That same mischievous look lingers on her face as I walk her to the elevator. The doors close, and I find myself staring at the space she leaves behind.
Almost instantly, against my better judgment, I take out my phone and switch to the elevator’s surveillance feed.
The screen lights up, showing her inside.
It feels ridiculous and almost childish, like I’m a teenager again with a crush I can’t stop thinking about, but I can’t help it.
I want to see her one more time before she’s gone.
She stands in the elevator quietly, but the corners of her lips lift in a small smile. Maybe she’s thinking about last night, or maybe she’s just glad to be leaving without complications.
Either way, I can’t look away. Right at that moment, I know this is the beginning of something I haven’t seen coming.
“Mr. Fisher?” Adeline’s voice echoes through my thoughts, and I blink, pulling myself back to the present.
She stands near the doorway to my office, holding her tablet and wearing a patient but concerned look.
Somewhere between the morning’s meetings and thinking about Scarlet, I must have completely tuned out.
“I’m sorry,” I say, clearing my throat as I turn toward her. “What were you saying?”
She hesitates for a moment in the way she always does before asking something that feels too personal but still needs to be said.
“I don’t mean to overstep, but are you all right?
” she asks cautiously. “You’ve seemed distracted today.
You weren’t fully present in either of your meetings, and that’s not like you.
If something’s wrong, or if there’s anything I can do to help, please let m—”
I raise a hand, stopping her. “I appreciate the concern, Adeline, but everything’s fine.”
Her lips press together as if she’s debating whether to believe me. Then she exhales softly, her posture relaxing just enough for me to notice.
“All right,” she says at last. “But if everything really is fine, I’d suggest you focus before your next meeting with Mr. Lowell. You’ll need all your composure for that one. From what I’ve heard from his past assistants, he’s not an easy man to deal with.”
I’ve been aware of that, and that man is the least of my concerns right now, regardless. My thoughts drift again, despite my best effort to stay grounded and not think about the woman I can’t seem to forget.
With those words, Adeline leaves my office, closing the door softly behind her.
I turn in my chair and look out at the skyline stretching far beyond the glass.
Cascade Point has always struck me as one of the most beautiful cities in the world.
Usually, the view calms me, but today, it feels dull and almost lifeless, compared to the image still stuck in my head.
Keep it professional, I remind myself. Don’t blur the lines. You cannot afford distractions right now. Work takes up every waking hour, and there’s no room for something that could throw everything off balance. Or, at the very least, so I try to tell myself.
“Mr. Fisher, how nice to hear from you again.” Tasha’s familiar voice greets me through the phone, professional as always. It’s been exactly seven hours since I told myself I wouldn’t get distracted, and here I am.
The moment I unlocked my phone, my fingers seemed to act on their own. Before I could talk myself out of it, I dialed The Network’s number. Logic didn’t stand a chance against the desire that still burned inside me.
“I trust your booking with Miss Perry went well?” Tasha asks.
“Yes, it did.”
“Fantastic,” she says, clearly satisfied. “And how can I assist you today, Mr. Fisher?”
I pause, briefly considering hanging up, but the words come out before I can stop them. “I’d like to book Miss Perry again. For the weekend. Whenever she’s first available.”
There’s a short pause on the line as she types, and I hear the faint clicking of keys.
My chest feels tight, though I can’t quite explain why.
Or I can, but my brain refuses to acknowledge it.
This is Scarlet’s job. She’s a professional, and if she works at The Network, she has to be damn good at it.
Yet the thought of her seeing someone else makes my stomach twist inside me, to the point where I want to book every available slot possible to have her all of myself.
Pull yourself together, I think sharply. Don’t make this into more than it is.
“Of course,” Tasha says after a moment. “Miss Perry is available this upcoming weekend, and Mr. Stonebridge has already personally approved the arrangement. Shall I confirm the booking?”
Locke himself? That’s odd.
“Yes. Please do. And I trust you’ll send me the full details by email?”
“Of course. You’ll receive the confirmation shortly.”
When the call ends, I set my phone down beside me.
For a long moment, I stare at the dark screen, wondering what exactly I’ve just done, and why it feels like something far more complicated than a simple booking I’ve booked dozens of times before.
Boa and Tim race around the apartment in one of their usual bursts of energy, their paws thundering against the floor.
I should probably stop them, but my mind is elsewhere.
It’s just good chemistry, I tell myself. Nothing more. It would be foolish not to make the most of it while it lasts.
With that justification circling in my head, I pick up my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find the number I haven’t used in ages. My thumb hovers over it for a moment before I finally press call. The line rings twice before a familiar voice answers.
“Mr. Fisher, hello. How can I help you today?”
It’s Mr. Clark, the coordinator at Aurora Elite.
Just hearing his voice brings back a strange sense of nostalgia.
Aurora Elite had always been my mother’s favorite hotel.
Over time, it became mine as well, almost by habit.
While most of my clients and guests prefer the flashier downtown hotels, Aurora Elite has a charm that makes it feel more private, and I want Scarlet to enjoy it, too.
“I’ll be coming over to stay next weekend,” I say. “I plan to oversee the arrangements myself, but I wanted to let you know in advance so you can begin preparations.”
There’s a brief pause on the other end. “Of course, Mr. Fisher,” Mr. Clark replies politely. “Will you be coming alone this time?”
I hesitate for only a moment before answering. “No. I’ll have company.”