Page 25 of Sexting His Assistant

I walk to the far end of the table, unhurried, and stop across from her. There’s enough distance between us to keep this proper. There is not enough to keep it safe.

“Was that meant for me?” I ask.

Her head comes up, eyes wide. “No.”

I incline my head once. “Honest. A promising start.”

Her fingers tighten around the phone. “Luka⁠—”

Color flares high on her cheeks. Shame, anger, both. “It was an accident,” she says.

“I know.”

“You know?”

I let that sit between us. “You looked as though your soul had left your body.”

For one fractional second, something like laughter threatens her mouth. It vanishes immediately. “That’s because it did.”

I say nothing.

She swallows and squares her shoulders with visible effort. “I’m sorry,” she says. “It was not supposed to go to you.”

“Who was it supposed to go to?” I ask.

Her eyes narrow slightly. “That’s not your business.”

A humorless smile touches my mouth. “You sent explicit material to my phone in the middle of a board meeting. It became my business the second it arrived.”

She lifts her chin. Defensive. Beautiful. Unwise. “It was a text.”

“It was pornography with punctuation.”

She goes redder.

I should not enjoy that. But I do.

“It was private,” she says.

I take my phone from the table and unlock it. “You surrendered the right to call it private when you delivered it to me in front of twelve people whose salaries exceed the GDP of small countries.”

“They didn’t see it.”

“No,” I say. “Only I did.”

The room goes quieter somehow.

Nina stares at me. I stare back.

Then I read the first line aloud.

“I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.”

Her eyes close.

“Should I continue?” I ask.

“Please don’t.”