Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 29567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“Would you like a tour?” he asks behind me.
I nod, my eyes still on the skyline.
He walks ahead, and I follow. The all-white kitchen is spotless, lit to perfection, and finished in polished marble and chrome. Industrial-grade appliances line the back wall.
“This summons the chef.” He taps a small brass button near the pantry. “He’s usually here by four on weekdays. Six on weekends.”
Why did you ever need to use Uber Eats if you have a personal chef?
“He was out of town that day.” He narrows his eyes at me, and I realize I said it aloud. I blush.
“Anyway…” He continues the tour, showing me a private library, a state-of-the-art spa room, and finally, a suite decorated in light blue and rustic silver tones.
My jaw drops before I can stop myself.
Inside, there’s a separate sitting area, a private reading nook, and a spa-level bathroom with heated floors, a rainfall shower, and a deep soaking tub that looks like it was designed to seduce.
“Do you typically do this for new hires?” I ask, my voice even as he shows off the remote-controlled drapes.
“Do what?”
“Generously move them out of their lives and into luxury.”
“Generous?” He repeats the word like he’s tasting it. “Someone told me I was the opposite—that I’m selfish.”
“You are selfish.”
“No, I don’t typically do this.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “But if I found out any other employee of mine was living in a place like yours, I’d step in one way or another.”
I glance around again, slower this time. I don’t show much on my face, but this is the most beautiful space I’ve ever stood inside.
He takes me back through the living room and points out details in passing. In the kitchen, he opens a drawer in the fridge, showing me labeled buttons—chef, drinks, cleaning staff.
“It’s all simple once you get used to it. Most of the places Tracey will show you have similar appliances, so you should start learning them now.”
I nod. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” He checks his watch. “Be ready to go to work at four-thirty in the morning. A separate town car will be waiting… unless you’d rather share a ride with me.”
“I’ll take the car.”
“I thought so.”
He turns, but I clear my throat.
“Do I get a tour of your room?” I ask. “You left that part out.”
“On purpose.” His voice is firm. “Unless you’re planning to spend the night in my bed, I don’t see a reason why you’d ever need to see it.”
My cheeks flush, and I turn away, slipping back into the suite—and into the soaking tub, which has just earned a very cold, very long visit.
THE CEO
DOMINIC
Sometime around 3 a.m.
I’m standing under ice-cold streams for the third time tonight.
This time, when I step out, I won’t let a single thought of Ivy cross my mind. I’ll get over the fact that I let the sexiest woman in Manhattan stay in my condo temporarily, and I’ll get at least an hour of sleep.
I’ve handled harder obstacles. I can handle this one.
With my plan resolved, I turn off the water and step onto the floor.
I wrap a towel around my waist and head into the kitchen.
Fuck.
Ivy is standing on her tiptoes, reaching for something in a high cabinet.
Wearing only a T-shirt and socks, she undoes my resolve in five seconds flat.
I tell myself I’ve handled worse. That this is nothing.
But watching her like this—bare legs, messy hair, one hand bracing the counter—says otherwise.
“May I help you with something?” I ask.
She freezes, then glances over her shoulder.
“I was just looking for the hazelnut syrup,” she says. “For my coffee.”
I walk over and open a different cabinet, pulling out the bottle.
“Anything else?”
“For you to put some clothes on while I’m out here working.”
I don’t give her the satisfaction of a reply. Just turn and walk.
I head back to the master suite, step under another cold stream, and already know what I’m doing in the morning.
Tracey’s going to have to make Ivy’s apartment search move at the speed of light. Two weeks, max.
She’s not staying here longer than that.
THE INTERN
IVY
At the edge of sunrise, Dominic’s condo stirs to life like a symphony. The drapes slowly rise to reveal a still-sleeping New York, soft piano music filters through the ceiling speakers, and bright lights twinkle against the baseboards. The early performance ruins my chances of getting any hint of sleep before work.
Every time I’ve tried to shut my eyes, all I could see was Dominic walking into my suite and climbing on top of me. Him taking full control of my body and never letting go, no matter how loud I screamed.
And I didn’t hate any of the visions; I didn’t stop them, either.
I make sure I have all my folders for work, and as I’m walking to the kitchen, a man dressed in all gray walks through the front door.