By midnight, we had a solid pitch structure. By one AM, we had refined it into something spectacular.
"Sarah's demographic analysis goes here," I said, pointing to the presentation. "Then we transition to the digital strategy, and you close with the ROI projections."
"You should close. It's your campaign."
"Adrian, you're the CEO. Riverside expects you to close."
"And I'm telling my Senior Marketing Director that she's earned the spotlight." His eyes were serious. "I'm not stealing your thunder, Emma. This is your win."
Something warm bloomed in my chest. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Just knock them dead in Boston." He closed our laptops, setting them aside. "Now, are you staying or should I call you a car?"
I should go home. Should maintain some boundaries. But his bed was comfortable, his arms were warm, and I didn't want to leave.
"Stay," I said.
His smile was soft. "Good. Because I wasn't ready to let you go anyway."
I fell asleep wrapped around him, feeling safer than I had in years.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, a small voice whispered that I was falling for Adrian Hartley.
Falling hard.
And there was no safety net to catch me.
Monday morning came too fast. I stood on the tarmac at 5:45 AM, staring at the sleek private jet with the Hartley & Associates logo gleaming in the early light.
"First time on a private plane?" Sarah asked beside me, eyes wide with excitement.
"That obvious?"
"You look like you're about to pass out." David Rodriguez, the third member of our Boston team, grinned. "Don't worry. It's smoother than commercial. And the champagne is better."
Adrian emerged from a black SUV, looking infuriatingly alert despite the early hour. He wore a charcoal suit that probably cost more than my monthly rent, and his eyes found mine immediately.
"Good morning, team. Ready to show Riverside what we're made of?"
We boarded, and I tried not to gawk at the interior. Cream leather seats, polished wood tables, enough space to actually move around. This was how the other half lived.
Adrian claimed a seat in the private rear cabin. "Miss Carter, a word?"
Sarah and David exchanged glances as I followed him, closing the door behind me.
The moment it clicked shut, Adrian pulled me close, kissing me like he'd been starving for it.
"Good morning," he murmured against my lips.
"Adrian, they're right outside"
"Soundproof." His hands slid down my back. "I've been wanting to do that since you texted me you were leaving your apartment."
"We agreed to be professional on this trip."
"We are being professional. This cabin is private. Out there" he gestured to the door, "I'm your boss. In here, I'm the man who couldn't sleep last night because you weren't in my bed."
My heart flipped. "You didn't sleep?"
"Not well. Turns out I'm getting used to having you next to me." He kissed me again, softer. "But you're right. Professional face. I'll behave."
"Liar."
His grin was wicked. "Probably."
The flight was smooth, and we spent most of it reviewing the presentation. Sarah was nervous but prepared, her insights sharp and well-researched. David had created stunning visual mock-ups. We were ready.
Adrian mostly observed, occasionally offering strategic input but letting me lead. It felt like a test could I command a room without him taking over?
I intended to pass with flying colors.
The hotel was ridiculous. Five-star luxury in downtown Boston, the kind of place where the staff knew your name before you reached the desk.
"Mr. Hartley, Miss Carter, welcome back," the concierge greeted us. "Your suites are ready. Penthouse level, as requested."
"Back?" I murmured as we rode the elevator.
"I stay here whenever I'm in Boston." Adrian's expression was carefully neutral with Sarah and David present. "Miss Carter's suite adjoins mine for convenience. We'll be working late on final preparations."
Sarah looked between us, something calculating in her expression, but said nothing.
Our rooms were on opposite ends of the penthouse floor Sarah and David in standard suites, Adrian and I in the corners. Professional. Appropriate.
Except for the connecting door between our rooms.
I unpacked quickly, changing into my power suit navy blue, perfectly tailored, the kind that said "take me seriously." The Riverside meeting was in two hours.
A knock on the connecting door made me jump.
"It's open," I called.
Adrian entered, and his eyes darkened as they traveled over me. "You look incredible."
"Professional?"
"Dangerously professional." He crossed to me, straightening my collar even though it didn't need straightening. "How are you feeling?"
"Nervous. Excited. Terrified I'll mess this up."
"You won't." His confidence was absolute. "But Emma, I need you to know something before we walk into that room."
"What?"
"Robert Jameson is bringing his daughter to the meeting. Victoria Jameson. She's their VP of Marketing, and she'll be your main point of contact going forward."
"Okay. Why are you telling me this like it's bad news?"
Adrian's jaw tightened. "Because Victoria and I used to date. Three years ago, before I moved back to run the company."
My stomach dropped. "You dated the client's daughter."
"Briefly. It ended amicably. We're friendly. But I wanted you to know before you met her, so it doesn't blindside you."
"Friendly," I repeated. "How friendly?"
"Emma"
"No, I need to know. Is she going to be a problem?"
"No. Victoria's professional. Smart. She'll judge the pitch on its merits, not on our history." He cupped my face. "But she might make assumptions about us. We need to be careful."
Perfect. Meeting a major client while secretly sleeping with my boss, and his ex-girlfriend would be there. What could possibly go wrong?
"Fine. Professional. I can do professional." I stepped back, putting distance between us. "Let's go dazzle Riverside with our brilliant campaign and pretend we don't have the world's most complicated relationship."
His smile was strained. "That's the spirit."
Riverside Corporation's headquarters was all glass and steel, modern and imposing. Robert Jameson met us in the lobby personally, his handshake firm and welcoming.