Page 124 of Sin

“Thank you.”

“No, really. That was…” He shakes his head. “Damn, Laurel. That was boardroom murder, but in heels.”

I laugh, then immediately regret it when my throat scratches.

“Put that on my review.”

“I might.”

“Please include the heels.”

“Obviously.”

By the time I get back to my office, the adrenaline is fading, and my body remembers it’s under attack. I close the door, drop into my chair, and press the heels of my hands to my eyes. Everything hurts and I just want to go home and get in bed.

My computer pings. I lower my hands and look at the screen.

It’s from an unknown sender.

Subject line: Confidential Opportunity

I almost delete it. Then I see the company name in the signature preview. Sex Activity Pro. I sit up straighter. Sex Activity Pro is a direct competitor. They’re sleek. Well-funded. Aggressive. The kind of company that makes beautiful products and steals talent with terrifying efficiency.

I open the email. By the time I finish reading, my fever has either spiked or my entire career just shifted sideways. They want me and not just for a lateral move. For Vice President of Product Innovation. I’d get more money and have more control over my team. My own team. Even though they’re based out of Amsterdam, they’re willing to let me work remote, or there’s a relocation option. And at the bottom, one sentence that makes my stomach drop.

Your work on the Sins line has positioned you as one of the most exciting voices in pleasure product design. We would welcome the opportunity to discuss how your vision could shape our next era.

I stare at it. Then read it again.

A laugh bubbles up, thin and disbelieving. I should be thrilled. But. I’m also suddenly, violently aware that I have no idea what my future looks like anymore. Because two months ago, this would have been easy.

Now my first thought is Sin.

I print the email because apparently I need paper evidence of my existential crisis, then grab it from the printer and head toward his office. I tell myself this is professional. He’s my boss. This is a potential conflict. He should know a competitor is actively recruiting from his launch team. That’s all. It’s absolutely not an excuse to see him after he looked at me like that in the boardroom.

His office door is slightly open. I lift my hand to knock. Then I hear a woman laugh. It’s familiar in a way that makes my stomach tighten before my brain even catches up.

Jenna.

Through the opening, I can see part of Sin’s office. Jenna’s inside sitting on the small sofa near the windows, legs crossed, a cream coat folded beside her. Sin stands near his desk, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of water. Bare left hand.

Does she know he left it at home? Does it hurt her the way it thrills me?

That thought makes shame rush through me so fast I almost sway. Instead, I bump the door. Jenna looks my way, her gaze meeting mine. There’s no reason for me to feel caught.

I’m holding a work email and I’m fully clothed, for once. Still, my face burns.

Sin turns. The moment he sees me, something flickers across his expression.

“Laurel,” he says.

I clutch the paper tighter. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were busy.”

Jenna smiles. It’s polite. “Mason was just telling me about the presentation. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” I say.

My voice sounds normal. A miracle.