Just One Night, Part 3: Binding Agreement Read Online Free Page B

between the sheets means nothing if you don’t learn to extend its reach outside of the bedroom.
    As the elevator makes its descent to the parking lot I realize that she might have a point. But I’m learning . . .
     . . . and rather quickly.

CHAPTER 4

    I T’S AFTER ELEVEN. I’m about to go to bed when I get the text.
    Video conference?
    The last time I had a video conference with Robert, whom at the time I only really knew as Mr. Dade, I had ended up naked, touching myself . . . it became a habit with us, not the video chatting but the rest of it.
    But tomorrow I have to prove my worthiness in this meeting. I can’t allow him to shake me tonight.
    I text back.
    I can’t.
    I don’t say more than that. I shouldn’t have to. He knows what tomorrow is, what it means.
    He sends his reply.
    You can. Tonight will be innocent.
    I hesitate. Say no? I tell myself. How can you have any power at all if you can’t say no?
    But of course I can say no. Just not to him.
    I turn on the computer; in a moment I see him, on my screen, in the chair in his bedroom. So far and yet so very, very close.
    “Robert, I can’t—”
    “Tomorrow you and your team will be in my boardroom,” he says. His voice is kind, almost paternal.
    I smile. “It’s not something I’m bound to forget.” But then the weight of it hits me and I lower my head. “I have to remind them all of my capabilities,” I whisper, pulling at the ends of my fingers like a nervous child. “They need to remember how qualified I am. Otherwise—”
    “You will stand in front of me,” he interrupts gently. “In front of my executives and your team and you will deliver your recommendations on how to strategically place my company up for public option. You will impress us. You’ll show that entire room the aggression and fervor that you’ve shown me every time I’ve held you.”
    “It’s hardly the same.”
    “It doesn’t need to be that different. Every time you’ve been in my arms, in my bed, you have risen to meet my challenge and my passion. You can do that in different ways, in a different setting. You will show everyone why you’re deserving.”
    That makes me giggle. “How exactly shall I do that?” I gently put my fingers against the computer screen, touching the image of his arms where, even from here, I can see the small scratches I left there during our last time together. “By making them bleed?”
    His smile widens as he leans back in his antique chair. “I’d like to think you’ll save your violence for me.”
    “Ah,” I say, almost reluctantly pulling my hand away. My smile wavers. “You’re assuming too much. You haven’t seen the presentation. You . . . you may not like my proposals.”
    He cocks his head to the side, raising his eyebrows in a way that is both seductive and impish. “Take a chance.”
    I burst out in full laughter because it seems that lately I’ve done nothing but take chances.
    “I promise you this,” he says softly. “I won’t pressure my executives to accept your proposals. Whatever reaction you get from them will be honest and I won’t overrule them.”
    Ah, so there is no guarantee here. The realization actually relaxes me. This is the kind of challenge I’ve trained for. I get it and it’s familiar. Right now, when everything in my life feels new and scary, anything that feels familiar is a blessing.
    I roll back my shoulders, raise my chin just a little. “Sleep well, Mr. Dade,” I say softly. “We both have a big day tomorrow.”
    “Good night, Miss Fitzgerald,” he says and with a small smile he disappears. My screen goes black.
    But I still feel him.
    Like the ocean feels the moon.
    *   *   *
    AND THE NEXT DAY I’m ready. I have to be, right?
    “I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready,” I repeat to myself as I pull the comb through my hair, ripping through the tangles, barely flinching at the pain.
    I choose a black fitted skirt that hits a few inches above the knee and