BIANCA

TWO YEARS LATER

“Yes, Mr. Brown. I’ll have it on your desk first thing in the morning,” I said into the phone before dropping it on the desk with a loud bang.

God, I hate today.

I just had a terrible break up with my ex, Eve and I’d been working late all week. The stress was catching up to me. I needed a break before I crashed.

I grabbed my Birkin and my keys and rushed out of the office toward the parking lot. But first, I had to get through the elevator and pretend to be nice to my coworkers.

Fuck, give me a break.

I forced a smile as I stepped inside. It was late, and thankfully there were only four of us in the elevator. Mr. Thomas, the office’s self-proclaimed playboy, and two interns.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll bring you some fresh homemade pastries tomorrow,” Mrs. Bayerns said sweetly. She was the senior partner. Affectionate, chubby, and always smothering everyone in kindness.

“Thank you, Mrs. Bayerns,” I replied with a polite smile, but before I could say no, she already pulled me into a hug.

“There you go. Have a wonderful night and sweet dreams,” she said.

“You too,” I replied and stepped out of her embrace the moment the elevator doors opened. I walked fast to my car.

As soon as I sat down, I exhaled hard. I needed a drink and some music but I was still in that mid-length curve-hugging pencil skirt and that stiff white blouse. I glanced in the rearview mirror. Too much professionalism and not enough escape.

Not tonight.

I unbuttoned the top two buttons to expose a hint of cleavage. Classy, but seductive enough for what I had in mind. My bangs stayed in place but the updo had to go. I pulled the pins out and ran my fingers through my hair until it fell in soft waves.

I kept my bayonette glasses on. They added to the look. I reached down and adjusted the garter underneath my skirt. Just enough lace to peek out over the top of my black stockings. Then I slipped on my Louboutin heels and watched the red soles catch the glow of the interior light.

I lit up a joint as I drove. One of my guilty pleasures. Don’t judge me. Not that I’d care.

I cracked the window and let the wind hit my face. I was single again and it wasn’t new but it still stung. The break-up with Eve was silent and overdue.

It ended the way most of my relationships did. She said I was too guarded and I said she was too emotional. Now I was here, back to doing whatever the hell I wanted.

Before stepping out of the car, I sprayed on my favorite perfume, Vanilla Reverie 28 by Ezzensa. Enough to mask the weed. Then I stepped out, the picture of a single Italian woman in New York, ready to own the night.

I walked straight to the bartender. “A margarita,” I said.

“One for me too,” the man next to me chimed in. “Hi, I’m Collins. Nice to meet you.”

His breath hit me and I winced before I could stop myself. Stale and sour and far too close.

“What? Do you have a problem with me?” he asked.

Fuck. Why can’t I ever hide my irritation?

“No. I’ll just leave,” I said and reminded myself why I hated bars. I should have gone to a five-star restaurant but no. I had to blend in.

I got back into my car and started the ignition. From the corner of my eye, I saw him walking toward my window.

“Hey! I was just trying to get to know you. Did I offend you?”

Oh God. I was supposed to pick up a guy for sex tonight but how can I when the majority of them are just like him?

I ignored him and drove off. In the mirror, I saw him throw his drink at my car. Bastard. I didn’t care. I just kept driving until I got home.

I stepped out of the car and tossed the keys to my security guard so he could park it. My brother insisted on buying me a house and even though I refused the full security team, I agreed to keep one guard on site. The estate was secured and I didn’t feel like arguing.

Inside, I rushed to my bedroom and kicked off my heels. I opened the wardrobe, grabbed my vibrator and sprinted back to lock my bedroom door.

I lay on the bed and let the toy do its job. I hadn’t had sex in months and I didn’t last long. I came fast and loud and felt the tension fade slightly.

I lay there, relaxed but still not satisfied. I was just about to go again when the doorbell rang.

Whoever it was just made my enemies list.

Grumbling, I left the bed and made my way to the door. Still in my work-bar outfit.

I pulled it open and froze.

A face I hated more than anything stood there.

“Hi.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”