Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
corinne
The things I do for my friends, I swear.
I’m currently carrying two brown paper bags from the deli around the corner, a favorite of ours.
The savory scent of tomato soup and toasted sourdough bread is making my stomach growl.
In my other hand I have the weight of the cardboard drink carrier, balancing two oversized iced coffees along with bottles of water.
I feel absurdly out of place as I cross the threshold of Sterling Capital.
The lobby is bustling with activity, people in business suits with phones pressed to their ears or chatting with the person they’re walking with, and then there’s me.
I’m dressed for the grueling twelve-hour shift awaiting me at the hospital after lunch.
My ceil-blue scrubs are comfortable, what they don’t scream is corporate workwear.
The sneakers on my feet are clean, but no, they aren’t heels.
And my hair is up in a messy bun, unlike the chic chignons others have walking around me.
If it weren’t for Alex calling me, somehow persuading me to have lunch before I clock in for the day, I wouldn’t be here.
I’m at the security desk within seconds of entering the building, taking a deep breath and inhaling the mixture of perfumes, coffee, and expensive leather.
“Hi,” I start to say to the officer at the desk.
“Corinne?” The voice is low, a rich baritone that vibrates through the soles of my sneakers and sends an immediate shiver straight through my core. I freeze then slowly turn, the paper bag crinkling in my grip. My breath catches in my throat. It’s him.
The one and only Dom Mercer.
The one I couldn’t stop thinking about for weeks now.
The one who watched me from across a crowded room with an intensity that made my skin burn.
“You’re Alex’s friend, right?” His lips curve into a slow, devastating smirk that tells me he knows exactly the effect he has on me.
Up close and personal, hot doesn’t begin to cover him.
The word feels juvenile for the sheer magnitude of his presence.
The man standing in front of me is tall, easily six foot three, has a sharp, sculpted jawline and eyes that suck you in with their sheer depth.
Dom’s wearing another custom tailored, three-piece charcoal suit that hugs his broad shoulders and lean torso.
He looks every bit the powerful billionaire he is.
“Yeah, I am,” I confirm a little breathlessly.
Talk about mortifying. This is not who I am.
I’m not some simpering, word-fumbling, sounds-like-a-porn-star woman.
I clear my throat and show him my hands are full or I’d shake his, even when all I want is to feel what it’d be like to have his arms wrapped around me, but that’s for another time.
As in late night, in the comfort of my own home, in my own bed, and with my own fantasies.
“I’m Dominic. Dom.” He steps closer. “And you’re the elusive Corinne.” His scent washes over me, overriding the aroma of my lunch, an intoxicating mix of dark spices, cedar, and all masculine warmth, a lot like a physical touch, heavy and heady in the best possible way.
“Cory. Nobody calls me that unless they’re trying to get their point across.” My heart hammers against my ribs.
“Cory.” My name rolls off his tongue, and now I want to hear him say it in a more intimate setting.
“You look like you could use some help,” Dom notes, his eyes dropping to the bag of food and drink carrier, then slowly and deliberately traveling down the length of my body.
His gaze lingers on the V-neck of my top, tracking the curve of my collarbones before sweeping down my legs.
There’s no subtlety in his look. It’s all predatory, thick with an undeniable, simmering hunger that makes my core ache and my thighs clench.
“I’m good, well, except maybe being able to check in. I kind of need to do that.” I turn back toward the security officer.
“Don’t worry about it, Marty. I’ve got it from here. You can put Cory down as a guest under my name. Permanently.” Dom nods his head toward the gentleman behind the counter.
“Of course, Mr. Mercer, I’ll add her to the system. If you’d send me her credentials sometime today.” Marty and Dom wrap up their conversation, and I figure it’s also the end of ours, so I start to veer toward the elevators. My arms are getting a bit tired after all.
“Heading to work?” Dom intercepts me, scooping the drink carrier out of my hand and placing his palm on my back, guiding me in a different direction.
“After lunch, I will be. I brought Alex lunch, or more like she harangued me to do her dirty work.” We move away from the bulk of people coming and going. Dom places his thumb on a keypad, and the doors open up like they’ve been waiting for him all along.
“The owner’s elevator.” His smirk deepens, and a wicked glint appears in his dark eyes.
“The public elevators require a badge, this will be faster. Perks of the job,” he mutters, stepping in behind me.
The doors close, sealing us in the confined space.
Instantly, the atmosphere changes—the air feels thicker, charged with a heavy tension.
“Makes sense. Similar to the hospital, minus the owner part.” Dom doesn’t stand on the opposite side of the elevator. Instead, he crowds me, standing inches away, swarming me against the mirrored back wall without actually touching me.
“Scrubs suit you.” He towers over me, looking down at me with the same hunger he sent my way at the club. “But I liked the black dress you wore better,” he says softly, his voice dropping an octave.
“You remember that?” I feel heat rise to my skin.
“I remember. I remember it all, Cory. The way you looked at me across the bar and the fact that you vanished before I could make my way toward you and get your number.” He leans a fraction of an inch closer, his chest nearly brushing my shoulder.
“I don’t plan on letting you go today without rectifying my mistake. ”
“I have a lunch date with Alex,” I remind him, my voice trembling slightly as the elevator hums to life, smoothly ascending the dozens of floors, feeling entirely weightless.
“Alex can wait a few minutes.” He reaches into his tailored suit jacket and pulls out a sleek, black, case-less smartphone, then slides it into my hand. “Your number.” I stare at him for a moment longer.
“What if I don’t want to?” I ask.
“We both know that’s a lie. Put your number in, Cory.” That makes it difficult to ignore. A man like him, I doubt he has to use manners to get what he wants. He leans down, lips brushing the shell of my ear, and breathes, “Please.”
My breath hitches, and with slow, trembling fingers, I balance the food against my hip and type out my ten-digit number before handing the device back to him.
I fully expect him to step away now that he has what he wanted.
Instead, Dom takes the phone, thumb tapping the screen rapidly, and a second later, my phone, tucked into the pock of my scrub top, buzzes to life.
“Just making sure you didn’t give me a fake number. Not losing you this time around.” The elevator chimes before the doors slide open to reveal the bright, luxurious expanse of Alex’s floor, where she just so happens to be standing near the receptionist’s desk, looking at her phone.
Dom hands me back the drink carrier and takes a step back, giving me a smidgeon of space as if he the breathless encounter never happened.
As I step out, looking over my shoulder, he is still standing there, holding the door open with one hand.
He raises his phone, giving me a slow, promise-filled smirk before letting the doors slide shut between us.
“Girl, you have some explaining to do, but not here,” Alex greets me, letting me know that my interaction with Dom didn’t go unnoticed like I anticipated.
“I really wish we could have this conversation with drinks, very strong drinks.” My day only started, my twelve-hour shift is looming ahead, and yet I already feel like I’ve run a marathon. The man has utterly ruined me already, and he hasn’t even kissed me.