Page 11 of Sexting His Assistant

I look up. “That barely counts.”

“It was sufficient.”

“You just enjoy being difficult,” I say.

Luka starts walking toward the elevator. “And yet you continue to work for me.”

I fall into step beside him. “That sounds like something men say right before getting murdered by their staff.”

The corner of his mouth moves very slightly. “You’re overdressed for murder.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

He presses the button.

I stare straight ahead.

He stares straight ahead too, hands loose at his sides, expression unreadable, as if he didn’t just say that in a tone that could have opened locked doors.

The elevator arrives and we step inside together, the mirrored walls making the whole thing worse. Me in navy. Him in black. The distance between us close enough to notice, not close enough to comment on.

My phone buzzes again. Luka’s eyes flick downward.

I tell myself not to care.

But obviously, I absolutely care.

I pull the phone out and see Daniil’s message.

So, mystery date? Should I be jealous?

The laugh that escapes me is small and involuntary.

Beside me, Luka says, “Something funny?”

I don’t look up. “Not particularly.”

The elevator descends.

Luka says, “Then why are you smiling?”

I type back to Daniil: Don’t embarrass yourself.

Then I say, “Maybe my private life is finally becoming interesting.”

Luka goes very still beside me.

I hate how quickly I notice. A muscle jumps once in his jaw. His face does not change otherwise.

“Is that what this is?” he asks.

I finally look up at him. “What?”

“Interesting.” His voice is too calm.

I slip the phone back into my bag. “Compared to corporate briefings and your social calendar? Yes.”

The elevator doors open into the lobby.