juicy bits

---

I closed the door and leaned my forehead against the cool glass. My hands were shaking. I thought about my father in his hospital bed, his steady breathing, his absolute stillness.And I thought about Damien’s face. The way he’d looked at me. Like I was a problem he’d finally figured out how to solve.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just stood there, staring at the empty hallway, and wondered if my father would have been proud of me for slamming that door, or if he would have told me to take the deal.

I walked back towards my desk. For a second, I stood completely still, jaw locked, nails biting into my palms. Then the rage broke free.

I grabbed the vase on my desk. The one with fresh lilies Ivy had placed that morning and hurled it against the wall. It shattered into a thousand glittering pieces, water spilling across the floor like blood from a wound.

The crash drew Ivy in almost instantly. Her eyes widened at the mess, but before she could speak, I cut her off sharply.

“Get the cleaners to take care of it.” My voice was cold, clipped. “And go home, I'm out.”

Ivy hesitated, clearly worried, but she nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

---

By the time I reached my apartment, every muscle in me was already weak. I was so exhausted . I stripped out of my work clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pour over me. I stayed there for over thirty minutes as I tried unsuccessfully to wash Damien Black out of my thoughts. Why did he come to me for such a proposal.

When I finally stepped out, wrapped in a robe, my phone buzzed. Phoebe.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I answered. “Hey, stranger.”

“Don’t ‘hey stranger’ me,” she teased immediately, her bright, warm voice filling the emptiness of my apartment. “You’ve been dodging my calls. I had to practically stalk you to get you to pick up.”

“I’ve just… had a lot going on.” I settled onto the couch, curling my legs beneath me.

“Well, lucky for you, I’ve got stories to distract you. Guess who asked me out?” Phoebe’s laugh was mischievous.

I rolled my eyes playfully. “You always have someone asking you out. Who’s the victim this time?”

“Marcus. Remember him? My cousin’s friend. The one with the ridiculous jawline and the car that screams ‘overcompensating’?”

I burst into laughter. “You mean the one you swore was full of himself?”

“Guilty,” she said dramatically. “But apparently full of himself looks very good shirtless.”

I gasped, leaning forward. “Phoebe!”

“What? Don’t look at me like that. It just… happened. One minute we were having drinks, the next minute…”

“You slept with him?” I asked, half shocked, half entertained.

“Twice.” She giggled. “And let me tell you, the second time was even better. The man knows what he’s doing. Like… really knows.”

Heat crept up my cheeks despite myself. “Okay, details. How? Where? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“We went on a picnic,” she cut in, her voice bubbly. “It started innocently. Basket, blanket, wine. He fed me strawberries like we were in some cheesy movie. I laughed so much my stomach hurt. But then…”

Her voice softened. “He leaned in. His hand brushed mine, slow, almost testing me. I swear, Alina, it was like sparks ran up my arm. Then he kissed me. It was literally crazy giiirrrll”

I hugged the pillow tighter, biting my lip as she went on.

“It wasn’t rushed. It was… deep, slow, like he wanted to memorize every second. The kind of kiss that leaves you dizzy.” She giggled breathlessly. “We made out until the sun was gone. I couldn’t stop smiling the whole way home.”

I laughed, cheeks burning with secondhand excitement. “Phoebe! You sound like a lovesick teenager.”

“Oh, it gets better. The second time wasn’t under the stars. It was in the living room. Cousin was out, house empty. We were watching some sappy romance movies. Halfway in, he pulled me into his lap. God, the way his hands moved it was firm but careful. He kissed me like he’d been waiting all week. Every time his lips left mine, I just wanted them back. It was… addictive, Alina.”

Her giggle turned into a squeal. “And when he touched me..”

“Stop, stop!” I threw the pillow over my face, laughing. “You’re insane.”

“Don’t act like you’re not blushing right now,” she teased. “I loved it. Every second of it. I haven’t felt that alive in… forever.”

Her joy was infectious, filling the emptiness of my apartment. For a while, I let myself enjoy her excitement, even as a pang of envy tugged at me.

Then, like a splash of cold water, she asked, “So… how’s Adrian Holt?”

My smile slipped. “He hasn’t been picking up. We argued.”

Phoebe groaned. “What now?”

“Nothing and everything,” I muttered. “I don’t know anymore.”

She went quiet for a beat, then her tone brightened deliberately. “Okay, enough about Mr. Moody. Let’s talk about options. If Adrian doesn’t get his act together, I could always hook you up with someone else. My cousin is hot, and he’s single. Interested?”

I burst out laughing. “Absolutely not. Don’t you dare.”

“Why not? He’s charming, fun, not a workaholic like you. You’d thank me later.”

“Phoebe, no,” I said, still laughing.

She sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. You need a rom-com, Alina,” she shot back.

Then Phoebe's voice softened, turning sly. "Okay, enough about me. Spill. What's going on with you? You sound... different. Like something happened."

I hesitated. My throat tightened. I stared at the ceiling, debating whether to say it out loud.

"Promise you won't judge me?" I finally whispered.

"Alina." Her voice was suddenly serious. "I never judge you. Spill."

I took a deep breath. "I slept with Damien Black."

There was silence for a little while, then Phoebe screamed. Not a gasp. Not a squeal. A full-on, ear-splitting scream that made me yank the phone away from my ear.

"YOU SLEPT WITH DAMIEN BLACK?!" she shrieked. "ALINA RIVERA! THE DAMIEN BLACK?! Your mortal enemy?! The man you've been cursing out for years?! THAT Damien Black?!"

"Keep your voice down!" I hissed, even though she was miles away. "And yes. That Damien Black."

Phoebe was laughing now, that unhinged, disbelieving laugh she did when she couldn't process something. "I'm sorry, I need a moment. You, the woman who once said she'd rather set herself on fire than be in the same room as him,slept with him?"

"We were both drunk," I said quickly. "Really, really drunk. I didn't even know it was him until the next morning when I found a note with a 'D' on it and then he showed up at my office."

"Wait, wait, wait." Phoebe cut me off. "He showed up at your office? After sleeping with you?"

I groaned. "Yes. He came to..." I stopped myself. I couldn't tell her about the contract. She'd lose her mind. "He came to gloat. About the company. About my father. The usual Damien Black bullshit."

Phoebe didn't seem to notice the hesitation. She was too busy howling with laughter. "Oh my God. Oh my God, this is the best thing I've ever heard. He slept with you and then showed up to rub it in your face? That's insane. That's.." She wheezed. "That's so on brand for Damien Black."

"It's not funny, Phoebe!"

"It's a little funny."

"It's not!" I buried my face in the pillow. "I hate him. I've always hated him. And now I can't stop thinking about.." I stopped myself.

Phoebe's voice dropped, suddenly interested. "Can't stop thinking about what?"

I was quiet for a moment. "The way he touched me. The way he kissed me. He was... good. Really good. Like, I couldn't walk the next morning good."

Phoebe gasped dramatically. "Alina Rivera! You dirty girl!"

"Shut up!" I threw the pillow across the room.

"No, no, no. I need details. Was he big? Did he take his time? Did he.."

"Phoebe!"

"I'm just asking! You slept with the enemy. I deserve the juicy bits."