S H A D E S

Signed. Sealed. Delivered. I'm yours.

Take the contract home with you, he'd told me. So I did. Read it carefully before you go to bed. Read it again when you wake up. Set it aside and look at it when you're frustrated. Angry. Come back to it again when you're calm and relaxed.

Be sure, he'd said to me with a thread of hunger rounding the edges of his compelling voice. Be very sure, Laura, before you sign.

So, I did as he'd asked. In the interim I made sure to take care of few of the courtesies by checking in with my doctor for a complete and thorough medical examination. Though I was always careful with lovers, there were some things you just did because...well, because it was polite. And smart. With a clean bill of health, I was then moved on to other terms and provisos.

Expectations. Demands. Conditions.   

I made notes where I had questions, and comments where I had potential concerns. Over the course of a week we discussed and negotiated. Drafted and redrafted. And now, almost a week later, the final copy lay before me on my desk. The hour was late and the office was quiet. This was when I often put in my best work at Iconic. In the calm and emptiness of the near midnight hour. Surrounded by the stillness of my four walls.

And I had more then just Shade's contract keeping me behind afterhours. With the merger came a unique set of circumstances that I was hoping to pitch to him in the morning. But now that the presentation was fine tuned, all of my figures lined up, with only my desk lamp on for light, I stared at those white pages, at the fine black print of the contract and rolled my fountain pen between my thumb and forefinger.

Be sure...his warning echoed back to me. Be. Sure.

Unscrewing the cap of my pen, I signed with a quick flourish of the wrist, committing more than just my name to paper. Scanning the document to my laptop along with my signed Confidentiality Agreement, I attached the PDF's to an email and typed a quite note in the body:

I trust the attached puts everything in order?

Pausing for a quick moment of reflection, I chewed the inside of my bottom lip, tapping my thumb against the cursor. And added: See you tomorrow. Sir.

 ***

I don't know if it was nerves or excitement that had me waking at near the crack of dawn, but for the first time in longer then I can recall, I was up well before my usual five am. Revved, I decided to burn off the extra energy in the gym I frequented before or after work hours, taking pleasure in having most of the facility free to myself.

Refreshed and revitalized, swinging in to Iconic was a quick cab ride and still gave me plenty of time to put my pitch and myself together. Slung over my shoulder was an oversized Michael Kors tote and inside the presentation I'd devoted the rest of my early morning to tweaking.

Disembarking from the elevator on the top floor Iconic reserved for our in and out of town Board of Directors, my stomach clutched with an involuntary niggling of envy. The Directors had wasted no time, it seemed, or expense, in transforming the corner suite I'd had my eye on into Tristan's new pied-a-terre. Contractors had worked round the clock for the last week, ripping out the separating wall and gutting two large suites to create the massive domain. All hidden behind floor to ceiling doors of polished wood instead of the pristine clear glass that had been there before.

Tucked in an alcove near them was a serious looking brunette, all legs and sharp brown eyes. She snapped her head in my direction as I drew closer, rising to cut me off.

"You're early."

"Oooh. Five whole minutes." I drew my lips into a thin, tight smile. I remembered her from when she'd assisted my predecessor, George Wyatt. I hadn't liked her back then, either. "Thank you for pointing that out."