The next morning

"You packed the revised pitch deck, right?" Kevin asked, adjusting his tie in the elevator mirror as the doors slid shut. His voice sounded steadier than he felt—there was a tightness in his chest he couldn’t shake.

Emily's fingers twitched against the leather portfolio in her lap as she nodded. "Printed fresh this morning," she said, tapping the edge of the binder. The elevator's soft hum filled the silence between them, but her pulse thrummed louder in her ears. She'd spent twenty minutes picking out this blouse—cream-colored, just sheer enough to hint at the lace beneath—and now she caught Kevin's gaze flickering toward her collarbone before snapping back to the elevator numbers.

The doors dinged open on the lobby. Kevin hesitated half a step, letting Emily exit first. The brush of his hand against the small of her back as he guided her through the crowd was fleeting, professional. But her skin burned where he'd touched her, the memory of his body pressing into hers at the airport flashing unbidden through her mind. She bit her lip hard enough to sting.

At breakfast, Emily deliberately reached across Kevin for the sugar, letting her sleeve graze his forearm. His wedding ring glinted in the morning light as he stirred his coffee—three slow, precise rotations before setting the spoon down. "We should go over the client's portfolio again," he said without looking up. "The Pembertons prefer asset allocation slides before—"

Emily's knee bumped Kevin's under the linen-draped table as she leaned in to examine the spreadsheet he'd pulled up on his tablet. "Sorry," she murmured, not moving her leg away. The hotel's breakfast lounge smelled of rosemary potatoes and freshly brewed espresso, but all she could focus on was the heat of his thigh against hers. Kevin cleared his throat and shifted an inch to the right.

Emily's fingers twirled the silver sugar spoon absently, watching the granules dissolve into her tea. The silence between them stretched just a beat too long—Kevin was pretending to study the spreadsheet with unnatural intensity while she debated how to phrase it. "There's a, um... logistical thing we should address," she finally murmured, tracing the rim of her cup. "From yesterday."

Kevin's shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly. His eyes darted toward the bustling hotel restaurant before meeting hers with **** neutrality. "We agreed not to—"

"Not *that*," Emily interrupted, cheeks flushing as she lowered her voice further. "But... you *did*. Inside. And I haven't... taken care of it yet." The spoon clinked loudly against porcelain as she set it down. A waiter passed by with a carafe of orange juice, mercifully drowning out the awkward pause.

Kevin exhaled through his nose, thumb rubbing at his wedding band in a telltale nervous gesture. "Right. Christ." He pulled out his phone, fingers moving swiftly over the screen. "There's a Walgreens two blocks west—opens at 8. We can swing by after—"

"I'll go alone," Emily said quickly, tearing a croissant apart with unnecessary ****. Flakes scattered across the tablecloth like golden snow. "It's just... we should've talked about this sooner." She didn't add before I masturbated in the shower thinking about you, though the memory of her shower fantasies made her thighs press together under the table.

Kevin's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed his coffee wrong. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, eyes watering slightly. "Emily, listen—"

The chime of his work phone cut through the tension. Both their heads snapped toward the glowing screen displaying *Pemberton - 9:30 Confirmation*. Kevin swore under his breath and stood abruptly, tossing bills onto the table. "We need to be at their office in forty minutes."