Chapter 219: Corporate Temptation

Holly’s POV

I stood in front of my mirror debating outfits like it was the Met Gala and the theme was “make David swallow his tongue.”

I finally picked a fitted black blazer dress…sharp, corporate, knee-length, but it hugged every curve like it was custom-made to ruin lives. The neckline was high enough to keep HR happy, but the way it dipped just right in the front still made my cleavage play peek-a-biss. Paired it with sheer black stockings and the highest patent heels I owned. Professional, but the kind that made men picture you bent over their desk.

I left my hair down in soft waves, swiped on a single coat of glossy pink-nude lip gloss, then stepped back and gave myself a slow once-over.

“Jesus, Holly,” I told my reflection. “You look like the reason someone got fired for sexual harassment. In fact, you are a walking felony.”

One last look. I popped a hip, smirked, and blew myself a kiss. “Go get your big brother, you sexy little disaster.”

I was still grinning when I strutted out of my room.

Kayla was in the hallway wrestling Caden’s tiny arms into a polo shirt while he tried to escape like a greased octopus.

“Kay, move your ass! My big brother is waiting for me at the office!” I sang, grabbing my bag.

Kayla didn’t even look up. “Your big brother can wait five minutes while I finish dressing my actual child.”

Caden finally popped his head through the collar and beamed up at me. “Holly, you look pretty!”

I dropped to his level and squeezed his cheeks. “Aw, baby! I can already tell you’re gonna be a heartbreaker. You have an excellent taste in women already.”

Kayla rolled her eyes so hard I was scared they’d get stuck. “Get in the car, both of you.”

Kayla was dropping me off at work since my car was still a mangled heap from the accident.

I hadn’t gotten around to replacing it yet. And speaking of replacing things… I still hadn’t told Ava about the accident. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her… right?

We dropped Caden at school first. He waved like a maniac from the gate. Then Kayla pointed the car toward the office and immediately started the interrogation.

“So you’re really doing this?” she asked, not even glancing my way.

“Look at my outfit. Does this look like I got dressed to sit in your passenger seat?” I deadpanned.

She exhaled loudly. “But… are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Positive. You worry too much, Kay. I’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I don’t know, another accident?” she deadpanned.

I gasped dramatically. “Don’t be such a kill-sport. I barely survived the first one.”

“Exactly. Barely. More reason why you should live quietly,” she muttered as she pulled into the parking lot and turned to me with full Mommy Mode activated.

“Okay, listen. Remember to hydrate. Take your pain meds. Don’t overdo it. If your ribs start hurting, sit down. If David is a dick, call me and I’ll come set his company on fire. And for the love of God, Holly—”

I was already opening the door. “Yes, Mommy.”

She grabbed my wrist. “Please don’t rape David.”

I giggled. “I’ll try not to. Bye Kayla.”

“See you later psycho,” she replied.

Then I slammed the door and sashayed toward the building like I owned it.

Deep breath.

You got this, Holly. Walk in there, smile, and make that man forget his own name.

I pushed through the glass doors, and it was total chaos that greeted me.

Phones ringing off the hook. Printers screaming. Someone yelling, “I need the Q3 revised deck in two minutes!” while another voice shouted back, “The server just ate the file!” Heels clacking, ties flapping, interns sprinting with stacks of paper like the building was on fire. Tabs clicking so fast it sounded like hail on a tin roof.

Pure Monday-morning corporate apocalypse, except it was barely eight.

I froze just inside the door, clutching my blazer dress tighter across my chest like I’d accidentally walked into church wearing pasties and a G-string. Everyone looked like they’d been born in a boardroom. While on the other hand, I felt like I’d been born in a Victoria’s Secret catalog.

“Jake!” I grabbed the first familiar face speeding past me with a tablet under one arm and three coffees in the other. “What the hell is happening?”

He didn’t stop walking, just talked at triple speed while power-walking toward the elevators.

“Emergency partner presentation. Three firms flew in at six a.m. Norman’s about to shit a brick if we don’t lock this deal today. They want the full pitch plus revised financials in—” he glanced at his watch “seventeen minutes. Pray for us.”

He disappeared into the elevator before I could blink.

My phone buzzed hard in my hand.

Amber. Voice already cracked with panic. “Holly, where are you? Room three, now. New partners are here. Norman’s asking for you. Move!”

I hung up and bolted.

Room three was the big glass-walled conference room everyone called The Aquarium. The same place David sat while he sacked me weeks ago. I slipped in as quietly as four-inch heels allowed.

Twelve pairs of eyes flicked to me for half a second, then snapped back to the projector. Men and women in perfect navy, charcoal, and black suits, looking like someone had photocopied “successful” and hit print twelve times.

Norman sat at the head like a king on a very stressed throne. David sat at the other head of the table, arms crossed, jaw sharp enough to cut glass, sleeves rolled up, looking illegally hot while murdering someone with a spreadsheet.

Norman spotted me, jerked his chin at the empty chair beside him. I slid in, trying to look like I belonged.

“Sit. Listen,” he muttered under his breath. “This is huge. Eight-figure investment firms. Winner takes forty-nine percent of the new fund. Loser goes home crying.”

The presenter clicked to the next slide, numbers and graphs flying. Everyone leaned forward like it was the Super Bowl.

I tried to focus. I really did.

But my eyes kept sliding to David.

His attention was solely on the projector, eyes narrowed, one hand rubbing the stubble along his jaw, the other tapping a pen against his thigh. Every time he shifted, the fabric of his shirt pulled across his shoulders and I had to remember how to breathe.

Several reckless thoughts swarmed through my head and I bit down hard to stop myself from mishearing. God, he looks good when he’s ruthlessly invested.

What if I do something to get his attention? Why won’t he look in my direction? Bet if I crawled under that table right now, dropped to my knees, and unzipped him real slow, nobody would even notice for the first thirty seconds.

I pressed my thighs together under the table and forced my face into professional neutral.

But my brain kept going.

What would happen if I actually did it?

What would happen if I slid off this chair, disappeared under polished mahogany, and took my brand-new “big brother” in my mouth while he tried to keep a straight face through a nine-figure negotiation?

Would he fist my hair? Would his voice crack on the next question? Would he glare down at me with those storm-gray eyes that said behave and not yet and good girl all at once?

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.

David’s gaze flicked to me for half a second, unreadable, then back to the screen.

I smiled to myself.

Yeah.

What will happen if I do it?