Adrianna's POV
(Five years ago)
"We're having a group of entrepreneurs over at the office today at two," Lance said one morning as we rode in the elevator together. There were about three other people in the elevator with us so we were forced to stay with our shoulders pressed together.
"Entrepreneurs?" I echoed.
"The founders of Canyon." He said. "You know, the underwear brand?"
I felt a blush heat my face. I wasn't prudish or anything, it just felt a bit too Intimate talking about underwear with Lance. Lance had zeroed in on Canyon stock prices as having great potential to skyrocket in a year or two. It had taken less than a week to reel them in.
"Sweetheart, I know this is too much to ask, given the amount of work I've piled up for you," He said sheepishly. "but I'd appreciate it if you could keep the minutes of the meeting for me."
With Lance, words like "sweetheart" or "darling" were not endearments but mere placeholders for names. Or being nice. Knowing that didn't stop my heart from skipping a beat. My fingers squeezed the file in my arms and I had to pinch my arm so I wouldn't give myself away.
"It's alright," I said, avoiding his eyes. "I'll do it."
Cameron, one of the co-founders of Canyon, seemed to think I was fair game during the meeting. It had begun with just inappropriate stares. Staring down the neckline of my blouse, staring at my legs in my stockings.
I had wanted—desperately wanted—to believe I had been imagining the whole thing. The last thing I wanted was for people to think I was some obnoxious little girl who relied on her father's connections and believed everyone wanted her.
Lance had excused himself so he could take a phone call outside and Cameron got bolder with his absence. He had asked if I had ever modeled and wondered if I would consider modeling for him. I tried to decline as politely and shortly as possible so I wouldn't be considered rude or worse, flirty. I tried to make a signal to Grant, his co-founder, to get him to tell his partner off. I got an indifferent look from him. His partner's behavior didn't bother him one bit.
He had placed a hand on my thigh, his pinky finger sliding beneath my skirt. "Sure about that? He had whispered close to my ear. "I could make you a star. With an ass like that, you'd look heavenly in a thong."
That was all it took to make me snap. I shot to my feet, sending my clenched fist crashing into his face with so much force he nearly fell clean off the chair.
I froze, shocked at my actions. I had never punched anyone before. The door to the office swung open and Lance walked in. His eyes swept through the scene. Cameron's bloodied nose, Grant's look of shock, and me standing over him, my eyes wide with shock. A wry look of understanding crossed his features.
"It would seem that the deal is off, then." He said calmly, turning to Cameron. "Our security team will escort you out of the building."
He turned to me. "Forgive me, Adrianna. You can take the day off."
He turned back to Cameron, his eyes turning cold and murderous. "You remember falling down the stairs, don't you?"
Cameron sputtered, cupping his bloody nose. His eyes bulged out of their sockets. "That…" he pointed at me like I was the spawn of Satan. "bitch! She hit me!"
Lance's eyes flashed. "Careful with your language." He advised, his voice lethal. "I might hit you, and my hands aren't quite as soft as hers."
Cameron was smart enough to shut up.
"If anyone, even your mother's damn cat, finds out about what happened here, I will make sure you end up bankrupt and living in your mother's basement again." He paused. "That is, of course, if you don't mysteriously go missing. I'm sure you catch my drift?"
The elevator slid to a close with the both of us in it, standing beside each other.
"Are you alright?" he asked, looking at me. I nodded.
"That was cool, your reaction." He said after a pause. "I think you broke his nose."
I bit back a smile, trying to ignore the way my face heated at his praise. He suddenly frowned, taking my fist in his palm and examining it. My knuckles were scraped and a bit bruised.
"We need to get that cleaned." He said, the calluses of his thumb grazing my knuckles. He looked at me, his eyes falling on a spot right below my left ear. I knew what he was staring at. There was a tiny birthmark under my ear.
His eyes dropped to my lips for a fraction of a second. It was so quick I thought I had imagined it. When his eyes met mine, they were heated and unfocused. I felt my pulse quicken under his gaze and my breath seemed to come harder. The elevator suddenly felt smaller than before.
The elevator doors slid open with a "ding", snapping us both out of it. I pulled my hand away and walked out of the elevator.
I rang the bell to Lance's house, a cottage in a gated community. It had a rustic, almost otherworldly charm with the stone walls and floor-to-ceiling windows. I resisted the urge to look through the window—it seemed intrusive and was covered by nude blinds, anyway. I signed, running my palms over my skirt. It was shorter than the shirts I usually wear, stopping just above my knee. I wondered if he would notice. I debated whether it would seem like I was coming on too strong with the buttons I had undone. Maybe I shouldn't have given in and tried the perfume I'd gotten impulsively.
"Lance, darling, you just have to let me get that Birkin. Just this…"
The door swung open, revealing a beautiful woman. She was slim and tall, with jet-black hair running down her shoulder like a waterfall. Her hourglass figure was clad in an almost see-through peignoir.
Her face was devastatingly beautiful, with grey eyes, a soft mouth, and a nose that was straight and pert.
Her heart-shaped face tilted to the side. "Who are you?"