ＴＨＥ ＯＦＦＩＣＥ ✨

𝙼𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚜 - 3

Blake

I woke up thinking about Kai again.

This was starting to become a problem.

Not because I minded — hell no — but because every version of her that played in my head was better than the last. The way she'd fumble her words when I got too close, the way she smiled when she thought I wasn't looking, and those damn pencil skirts that hugged her just right. I was cooked.

Ever since she walked in on me getting head — and I hated that that was how she saw me — I hadn't hit up Cassie or anyone else. That part of my life? Pointless now. That had just been sex. Disposable, forgettable.

Kai wasn't that.

I shook the thought, ran through my usual morning routine — shower, shave, skincare, cologne, slicked hair, dark green suit — and grabbed a Red Bull on the way out.

"Good morning, Janet," I said with a nod as I walked through the lobby. She'd worked the front desk since the company started. She just smiled like she knew something I didn't. Hell, maybe she did.

I took the elevator up and made a detour.

I needed to see her.

She was in her office, head bent over her laptop, glowing in that soft morning light. That white blouse was tucked into a black skirt that hugged her like it was tailored just for her. And her glasses? Don't get me started.

"Good morning, Kai. You look beautiful — as always." I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.

She jumped a little, looked up, and fumbled. "O-oh... thank you, Blake. You... you look great too."

I smirked. "You're welcome, babygirl."

Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but I turned and walked away.

Yeah. I was playing with fire.

And loving every second of it.

Kai

What the hell is going on?

Ever since our dinner, Blake's been flirting like it's her full-time job. But she hasn't actually made a move. Just enough to drive me completely insane. I didn't know if she was serious, just playing, or naturally hot and charming and unaware that she was slowly making me lose my damn mind.

I dropped off some files at her office. She took them with a smirk and said, "Thank you, pretty lady."

Pretty lady?! What is this, 1950? I loved it, that's for sure.

I smiled, turned, and walked out — but I could feel her eyes on me.

Later, I texted Sasha:

Me: she's staring again

Sasha: girl blink twice if u want me to fight her

Me: no don't fight her she's hot

Sasha: u need help

Which is why I agreed to go out tonight. Clubbing. Dancing. Drinking. Sasha said I needed to shake the Blake dust off and I agreed.

Sort of.

I showered, curled my hair, and slipped into a black matching set — mini skirt, cropped tank, long coat, and knee-high boots. My makeup was flawless. My wig was laid. My perfume was expensive. And I was determined to leave the club with someone who wasn't a tattooed CEO.

"You ready?" I called into Sasha's room.

"Yup, just grabbing my purse. You look like sin in heels."

"Thank you. That's exactly what I was going for."