Chapter 17: Behind Closed Doors
The rain drizzled outside, tapping against Eve’s apartment window like a metronome to her pulse.
Inside, the air was warmer, thicker, carrying that faint scent of Daniel’s cologne — the one she’d come to recognize before she even saw him.
Daniel stood at her kitchenette, sleeves rolled up, nursing a glass of scotch. He looked almost too comfortable here now. No formalities, no pretense, just the man who found an escape from his wife in the four walls of Eve’s apartment.
“You’re late,” she teased, leaning against the counter in a silk blouse the color of midnight. Her legs were bare, crossed just enough to make the fabric slide higher.
His mouth curved. “Had to get rid of a board member who thought a late-night email barrage was appropriate.”
“And yet here you are,” she said, taking slow, deliberate steps toward him. “In my apartment instead of at your dinner table with your wife.”
The word wife hung between them, sharp as glass.
He didn’t flinch. “Maybe I like my meals here better.”
Her laugh was soft, but her eyes never left his. “You mean me?”
“I mean everything about being here,” he replied, and that low timbre in his voice made her pulse jump.
It had become their rhythm — stolen evenings, casual dinners, a glass of wine, then Daniel lingering far longer than he should. Each visit blurred the line further between dangerous indulgence and routine.
Later, sprawled on her sofa, he loosened his tie, tossing it carelessly onto the coffee table. She tucked her legs under herself, holding her wine glass like a prop in a game she was already winning.
“You’re avoiding her more and more,” she said casually, sipping her wine.
“She’s… busy. Europe, deals, and God knows what else. It’s mutual avoidance at this point.”
Eve tilted her head, studying him. “And you’re okay with that?”
A pause. “I didn’t say I was.”
Her smile was faint, knowing. “Then maybe you should stop thinking about her when you’re here with me.”
That earned her a sharp look — not of anger, but of surrender. He pulled her closer until she was between his knees, his hand brushing her jaw. “When I’m with you, Eve… I don’t think about anything else.”
She kissed him then — not the hungry, reckless kind, but slow and deliberate. A kiss that told him she was in control even when he thought he was.
At the office, their game continued under the fluorescent lights and polite chatter of corporate life.
Eve walked into the Monday morning meeting wearing a white dress that skimmed her curves with calculated precision. She carried a folder in one hand, a confidence in her stride that made Daniel’s gaze track her before he could stop himself.
Her presentation was sharp — a new project proposal that streamlined their overseas supplier chain and promised a significant profit margin.
When she finished, the board members murmured approval. Daniel leaned back in his chair, lips twitching into something dangerously close to pride.
“Brilliant,” he said, the word slow and deliberate.
“Let’s move forward with it.”
A ripple of surprise passed through the room — Daniel was rarely so quick to approve anything without tearing it apart first.
Eve only smiled, collecting her papers, her eyes meeting his for the briefest second. That was enough.
By late afternoon, she was back in her office, fingers gliding over her laptop keys. Daniel walked in without knocking, closing the door behind him.
“You’re making it harder to keep this professional,” he said quietly.
“You’re the one walking into my office like you own the place,” she replied, not looking up.
His gaze swept over her — her heels kicked off under the desk, the way she leaned back in her chair like she had nothing to hide.
“Maybe I do own the place,” he murmured, stepping closer until her chair rolled slightly back from his presence.
“Then take what’s yours,” she whispered.
They didn’t hear the secretary outside, knocking lightly, then hesitating before stepping in when there was no answer.
The young woman only needed one glance — Eve’s desk drawer slightly ajar, a flash of deep navy silk inside. She glanced around, then, curiosity pulling her closer, she slid the drawer open just an inch more.
Daniel’s tie lay folded there. The same tie he had been wearing this morning.
Her eyes widened, a slow realization dawning. She closed the drawer quickly, her heart pounding, before slipping out of the office as quietly as she’d entered.
Inside, Eve leaned against the desk, her lips inches from Daniel’s ear.
“You’re going to ruin yourself for me,” she whispered.
He smirked. “Maybe that’s the point.”
Outside the office door, the secretary clutched her notepad, her mind racing with what she’d just seen. The tie was unmistakable — and so was the implication.
Her lips pressed together as she walked away, already deciding who she might tell first.
The secretary closed the drawer slowly, her mind already churning. That’s not a place you accidentally leave a tie, she thought.
When she stepped out into the hallway, she didn’t go straight back to her desk. Instead, she veered toward the break room, where two junior associates were making coffee.
“You won’t believe what I just saw,” she began, lowering her voice but making sure it carried just enough intrigue to hook her audience. “Daniel’s tie. In Eve’s drawer. Her personal drawer.”
The associates exchanged wide-eyed looks.
“No way,” one of them whispered. “You’re saying they—?”
“I’m not saying anything,” the secretary replied with a knowing smirk, stirring sugar into her coffee. “But you can connect the dots yourself. He’s been skipping dinners with Sienna…
Eve’s suddenly getting all the best projects…
and now his tie just happens to be in her office?”
She let the words hang in the air like perfume.
By lunch, the whisper had grown legs. In hushed corners of the office, people leaned toward each other, voices low but eager.
“I heard he was in her apartment last week,” someone muttered near the copy machine.
“Yeah, and remember that gala last month? He left early, and so did she,” another replied, eyes darting toward the closed blinds of Eve’s office.
Eve herself seemed to sense the shift in atmosphere. When she walked down the hall, conversations would pause for half a second — not long enough to be obvious, but long enough for her to notice. And yet… she didn’t falter. If anything, her smile seemed sharper, her stride more deliberate.