Chapter 36
THE FORTY-SEVENTH FLOOR
JASON
Bebe’s party was yesterday, and now it was time to get back in the groove. Sometimes when I was home, I felt like I was living in another dimension, like I couldn’t quite feel who I was. Not until I was out of the house, back at work.
I felt alive when I was hustling, talking numbers, producing, generating. And even if I hated to admit it, Shannon was part of the excitement. After she left my office on my last trip, I wasn’t able to get her out of my head. No matter how hard I tried.
We had a business dinner scheduled this week, a strategic meal before one of our biggest meetings on Wednesday. We needed this deal. We have to eat at some point. It’s just business. That’s what I told myself.
Monday morning, my alarm went off, and I shut it off as quickly as possible, so I wouldn’t wake Natalie.
By sunrise, I was at LAX, settling into my first-class seat for a direct flight to New York. The routine was now second nature, coffee, open my laptop, dive into work once we hit cruising altitude.
But today my thoughts kept circling back to Shannon.
When I landed in New York, I went straight to the office. Shannon and Marcus were already there. The day passed in a blur of meetings, number crunching, and prepping for the pitch. At eight, we wrapped up and agreed to meet back at the office by seven the next morning.
There were takeout boxes scattered around my office, remnants of a long workday. I stayed behind, running through the numbers one last time. Shannon stopped by my door.
“Do you need any more help?”
I should’ve said yes. I wanted her to stay, but I needed to focus and having her around wouldn’t help.
“You go home. Get a good night’s sleep,” I said.
She nodded, but something flickered in her eyes, disappointment, maybe.
“I’m looking forward to dinner tomorrow,” she said, offering a small smile before she walked away.
I finally left the office at nine, crashed at my hotel, and was up when my alarm went off the next day. By 6:45 a.m., we were all back at it. Pitching was half the battle. Preparation was everything. By 7:00 p.m., we were satisfied.
Our dinner reservation was set for 8:00.
Shannon stopped by my office at 7:30. “Just wanted to make sure everything’s perfect.”
She looked…different. Polished. More makeup, maybe. Or had she changed her clothes?
“When did you do that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
She winked. “I keep a few extra outfits in my office.”
I nodded, taking in her fitted black dress. The fabric hugged her waist. Her legs were long and toned beneath sheer tights. She always looked put together, but tonight, she looked dangerous.
“You look great.”
“Thank you for noticing,” she said with a tight smile.
We grabbed a cab, both too focused on the deal to let the conversation slip anywhere else. The dinner was business. The food was a brief intermission. We laughed here and there, but I kept it in check. I had to.
After dinner, I hailed her a cab.
“Want to get a nightcap?” she asked, eyes glinting. “At your hotel, so it’s close for you,” she added, playful, “for bedtime.”
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. “Is this a good idea?”
She shrugged and slid into the cab. Without thinking, I followed.
When we got to my hotel, Danny was at the bar.
A sign. A goddamn sign.
Danny greeted us with his usual grin. “You two thought I’d miss all the fun tomorrow?”
We ordered drinks and went over the plan, again. It was overkill, but I didn’t mind. It kept my mind where it needed to be.
I woke up the next morning, ready for the biggest meeting of the quarter.
It went flawlessly. We all brought our A-game, and it showed.
When the investor signed, Danny grabbed a bottle of champagne, and we celebrated, toasting to the future.
Marcus, in true Marcus fashion, casually announced, “I’ve got a date with a model tonight. Gonna be doing her doggy style till morning.”
“Gross,” Shannon muttered.
By the time everyone left, I went back to my office to grab my things.
Shannon walked in. “Well done, boss,” she said, a playful gleam in her eyes. “My birthday wish granted.”
I blinked. “Your birthday? And you didn’t mention it till now?”
She shrugged. “Work comes first.”
“Not tonight,” I said. “We’re celebrating.”
That was how we ended up splitting an absurdly oversized sundae at Serendipity, laughing about how ridiculous it was to eat ice cream after closing one of the biggest deals of our careers.
Then I offered to walk her home.
“I’m not ready to go home,” she said.
We found ourselves at the hotel bar instead, ordering drinks, letting the night stretch longer than it should have. Somewhere between the third and fourth drink, the tone shifted. Maybe it was the late hour. Maybe it was just inevitable. Either way, I felt it.
I headed toward the elevator door, Shannon following behind me. The second the doors closed I could feel how close she was. Too close. I could feel the warmth of her body beside mine, the scent of her perfume, a mix of something floral and deep, lingering.
When she turned toward me, an intense look in her eyes, I didn’t hesitate. Our lips collided in a kiss that was anything but careful. It was sharp, urgent, pent-up tension finally breaking. She responded instantly, pressing into me. Her hands fisted my shirt as her mouth opened beneath mine.
I backed her against the elevator wall. My fingers dug into the curve of her waist as she arched into me. My body was already reacting, hard, straining against the fabric between us. I knew she felt it, knew she could tell just how much I wanted this.
She let out a soft, breathless sound against my lips, tilting her head and deepening the kiss. I groaned, gripping her hips tighter. My body pushed into hers.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she whispered.
Her voice was quiet, but the ache in it nearly shattered my resolve.
My mouth traveled lower, tracing the edge of her jaw and the delicate skin just beneath her ear.
She gasped. Her hands were pressing down my back.
My hands moved around to her ass, pressing her closer and making sure she felt all of me.
I wanted more. I needed more.
The elevator dinged.
The sharp sound snapped through the sexual haze like a gunshot.
I exhaled hard, my forehead resting against hers for a beat, my breathing ragged.
Fuck.
My hands flexed at her waist, but I forced myself to step back.
Her lips were slightly swollen, and her eyes were dark with frustration. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to.
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling again.
“I can’t,” I said, my voice rough.
She swallowed, blinking once. Her expression flickered—something unreadable beneath the heat.
The doors slid open.
Without another word, I stepped out.
I didn’t look back.