Aria was currently wearing a groove into the plush carpet of the master bedroom.
She was still naked, pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed with manic energy, aggressively gnawing her thumbnail down to the quick.
'What if he was presenting?!' Aria internally screamed, her chest tight with panic. 'What if his phone was connected to the Bluetooth projector? What if his entire executive board of directors just saw my bare ass in 4K resolution on a massive hundred-inch screen?!'
She was dying of shame. She wanted the floorboards to open up and swallow her whole. And to make matters worse, she didn't even like the video! In hindsight, the poses felt stiff, the lighting was too bright, and she was bloated from PMS.
"I am faking my own death," Aria muttered, pacing faster. "For real this time."
Suddenly, the cheerful, upbeat chime of a FaceTime request echoed from the iPhone sitting on the duvet.
Aria's heart dropped directly into her stomach.
