No Turning Back

I didn't get home until eleven that night.

Every muscle in my body felt heavy.

For nearly a minute, I had stayed on the shower floor, letting the cold water pour over me until my breathing steadied and the trembling in my legs finally stopped. Only then had I managed to wash, dry off and get dressed.

I'd fled the locker room as if it were on fire.

The gym had been deserted when I left.

Outside, I hailed the first taxi I saw. The moment I climbed inside, and the driver pulled away from Parker Wines Headquarters, I finally allowed myself to breathe.

Then came the shame.

How am I supposed to face him tomorrow? Should I resign? The thought crossed my mind more than once during the ride home.

Maybe I could call in sick instead. But that would only postpone the inevitable. Sooner or later, I'd have to see Leonard Parker again.

No.

Running away wouldn't solve anything.

I would go to work.

I'd act as though nothing had happened.

As though I had never recognized the man standing outside that shower.

Maybe... Maybe it hadn't even been him.

Perhaps I'd imagined everything. Tomorrow will be just another normal day.

It had to be.

The shrill sound of my second alarm dragged me out of an uneasy sleep.

I felt even more exhausted than the night before.

Still, my morning followed its usual routine.

Coffee.

Shower.

Hair.

Glasses.

The familiar drive to work.

Normal.

Everything had to be normal.

As I stepped into the executive offices, Laila was standing in front of the mirror behind her desk, applying what looked like her third coat of lipstick.

"Good morning, Laila."

She glanced at me through the mirror.

"Good morning, Blair."

Her eyes traveled slowly over me.

"You look... the same as always."

I smiled politely.

"So do you."

Her expression tightened almost imperceptibly before she turned back to the mirror.

Another victory in the endless competition she seemed convinced we were having.

If only she knew what had happened the previous night...

She wouldn't believe it.

Neither would anyone else.

I set my bag beneath my desk before taking a spare outfit and two extra pairs of panties to my locker.

Just in case.

After everything that had happened, I wasn't taking any chances.

Once I returned, I buried myself in work.

I reviewed Mr. Parker's schedule for the following week, updated meeting requests, answered overnight emails and forwarded the changes to Laila for approval.

Numbers. Names. Appointments. Anything to keep my mind occupied.

For almost an hour, it worked.

Then... The elevator chimed.

A simple sound.

One I'd heard countless times over the past two years.

Yet today, it sent my pulse racing.

I kept my eyes fixed on my laptop.

Don't look.

Just keep working.

I pushed my glasses higher onto the bridge of my nose, pretending to concentrate on the email in front of me while my heartbeat thundered in my ears.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed he wasn't alone.

Dr. John Withacker, the country's most respected corporate lawyer.

The two men crossed the office together, deep in conversation.

Leonard wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, his jacket unbuttoned, the first two buttons of his white shirt left casually open.

One hand rested inside his trouser pocket as he spoke with effortless confidence. He looked infuriatingly composed.

As though nothing unusual had happened the previous evening.

Unlike me.

I pressed my knees together beneath the desk, willing my body to behave.

Laila stood immediately.

Her smile brightened several shades.

"Good morning, Mr. Parker. Good morning, Mr. Withacker."

Her voice dripped with sweetness.

I remained seated, as I always did.

"Good morning," I murmured quietly, directing the greeting toward the lawyer rather than my boss.

Neither of them stopped walking.

"Morning," they replied almost in unison before continuing toward the glass office.

Relief flooded through me.

It was over.

They had walked past without incident.

Then Leonard stopped with one hand on the office door.

My stomach dropped.