Dominic

I’m working late, trying to get through the last of today’s urgent decisions so I can start with fresh business in the morning, when my phone buzzes.

“Yes, Francine, I know I shouldn’t live at the office,” I mutter as I grab my phone and look down at the screen.

But to my surprise, it’s a text from Presley. And even more surprising, it reads: heeyyyy sexxxy, followed by a smattering of eggplant and fire emojis. What the hell?

I do a double-take to confirm that the sender really is her. Maybe someone took her phone as a prank? Then I remember that she got her promotion today, and text back:

I take it you’re having a night out to celebrate?

The response is immediate:

im so drink haha

I snort, my lips twitching. I’ve seen her tipsy before, but drunk is new. Getting to glimpse this new, uninhibited side of a woman who’s normally always so disciplined is . . . charming.

I can tell. I’m glad you’re having a good time—you’ve earned it.

thank you soooo much I love you

really mean that. It’s just the kind of thing people

come celebrate with me

should enjoy partying without your

you’re why im

and this promotion saved my

I really owe you

the job because you were the best worker.

wanna

I spend deliberating, she adds something that makes me forget whatever I’d

you do whatever you want

like to say is “I’m on my way,” but instead

you still want that

She replies:

:( at least dance with

tonight . . . so, why the hell not? It

fun. Where

• • •

texted me. It’s just around the corner from our office, and

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