I’m on a call with my strategy team about the upcoming International Green Building Summit. It’s a mouthful, but it’s also a massive deal: a gathering of the world's top developers, government officials, and sustainability leaders to address the environmental responsibilities of this industry. This year London is hosting it and Sullivan is being recognised for the carbon-neutral construction techniques it’s pioneered.

The keynote speaker, you may ask?

Yours truly.

It takes a lot to get me excited about a conference, but this one checks all the boxes. It’s fucking gold when it comes to cementing (see what I did there?) Sullivan Construction as a leader in sustainable luxury construction. It’s a huge validation for me and a major fuck you to everyone who’s ever written me off as the playboy Sullivan brother. And, of course, the financial opportunities are sky high. If I get this speech right, we could hit the jackpot on multiple ten- and eleven-figure contracts from governments and developers worldwide.

Yep, this is the big leagues, baby.

That said, I can’t write schmoozy speeches for shit, so my strategy and PR teams are working endlessly on my behalf to craft the perfect keynote. Words like “rhetoric” and other wanky terms are being bandied about far too much for my liking. I’m chiming in occasionally with my opinions, my camera turned off so I can zone out without being busted, and growing sufficiently bored out of my brain that I seek out some light in-car entertainment.

We’re about ten minutes away from the Kingsley Group’s headquarters near the Bank of England. Plenty of time to have some fun. I slide the privacy screen up, separating us from Yan, and flick the intercom off.

‘Open your legs,’ I mouth at Marlowe. Her jaw drops in surprise, and I nod curtly to show her I’m serious. She does as I ask, widening her legs beneath the roomy skirt of her dress. I push the fabric upwards and run my fingertips along her thigh until I find the lovely, exposed spot I’ve been searching for. It’s so warm and soft and wet. So inviting, I could get on my knees right here and eat her.

But I won’t.

I’ll make us both wait.

I mute myself for a second.

‘You’ll have to be a very good girl when we get into this meeting,’ I whisper, pushing two fingers inside her. Her mouth makes an O shape as she takes me. It makes me want to grin, but I don’t. I want her to get the Stern Brendan experience. Because she really is such a good girl. ‘And you’ll have to be very quiet now,’ I continue, holding my phone up so she can see me unmute myself.