Vivian had been perfectly friendly to Greta, Edward, and the rest of my staff, whom she’d greeted with warm smiles and fucking cookies from Levain. But when she got to me, she’d shut down like I was the one moving into her house and disrupting her carefully planned life. Like I was the one who’d showed up uninvited at her party wearing an outfit that could send a man to his fucking knees. A week later, the image of that black dress clinging to her curves was still ingrained in my mind, as was the fire in her eyes when she’d laid into me.
