35 - Or What?

35 - Or What?

James

Mia’s cheeks flushed into a beautiful pink color, looking away and squirming against my arm. I let her go, knowing her friends were present and she wouldn’t want us to look too suspicious. I hated that I couldn’t even touch her in the public eye. Even holding her hand or leaning too close would be forbidden.

When I left after my meeting with the accountant, I hadn’t expected Damon Grant to call me, inviting me to his club on such a short notice. I couldn’t deny because Damon was my company’s biggest client, and I wanted to see its weekend opening. It had opened the week before, but he wanted to run a few things through in a meeting, which I was more than happy to do. Very few clients did the hands-on work or accepted most of our designs, demanding for a change, while Damon had always been analytical and asked questions.

The last person I wanted to see there after exiting Damon’s office on the first floor was Mia. Especially in her lilac dress that looked as if it