Trent: No, sir. Just irritated he’s not been able to reach you.

Me: Next time he reaches out, tell him to eat a dick. Regarding the Zoom meeting, reschedule. I’m busy for the rest of the evening. Cancel the morning conference call as well.

Trent: Sure thing, sir.

Me: Do you frequent dive bars, Trent?

Trent: Only since I moved here. I think it’s an LA thing, sir. What would you like me to find out?

Me: There’s a bar a half a mile north of the resort called Fat Billie’s. Send over a bottle of Macallan 30 and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food within the hour. Also, tip them an extra thousand dollars to clean the place. Have them pay extra attention to the restrooms. I’ll be spending the evening there with my roommate.

Trent: And how is Miss Sommers, sir?

Me: Maddening, Trent.

As if she could feel me thinking about her, Winter opens the door to her room. The sound of her walking down the hall to the living quarters echoes through the hallway. Heels. I hear heels, that’s a good sign.

My phone vibrates so I drop my head to see Trent’s reply as Winter enters the room in my periphery.

Trent: Consider it done, sir. Have fun at Fat Billie’s.

Me: I’d have a better chance of enjoying chronic anal itch, but thank you for your positivity, Trent.

I stand, pocketing my phone in my fitted Brunello Cucinelli joggers, not loving the fact that I’ll be wearing my nine-hundred-dollar sweatpants to a place called Fat Billie’s. My only comfort being I don’t have to wear my nine-thousand-dollar dress pants there.

Winter is going to owe me for this.

I grab my wallet from the coffee table, open it to check for my keycard, then slide my wallet into my back pocket. I turn to walk to the kitchen island to join Winter, stopping dead in my tracks when my eyes fall on her.

Dead in my fucking tracks.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, could stop my instant raging erection from pointing straight at Winter while yelling, “Boss, boss, do you see her? Do you see what she’s wearing?!”

Yeah, I fucking see her, Dick.

And while I’m wearing joggers no less. With nothing to weigh it down with. I look like I put a traffic cone over my cock.

Winter’s back is to me. She’s bent slightly, adjusting her foot in her heel. Blood pumping and static is all I hear, soaking in just how stunning she looks in her dress.

That dress. Black, half-sleeve, the back draped down to her lower back with a thin black string across the top of her back connecting shoulder to shoulder. The slinky hem dips about a couple inches below her ass and raises slightly higher on the outsides of her thighs, making her silky legs look a mile long.

It’s both classy and the sexiest dress I’ve seen on a woman to date. And Winter in it, is a fucking goddess. Her skin is lightly tanned and smooth. Small clusters of freckles dusting her shoulders. The urge to walk up behind her and kiss them is so strong, for a minute, I’m afraid my legs will move without my consent.