Larissa's POV
The taxi jerked to a stop in downtown LA traffic, and I pressed my temple against the cold glass, watching the city lights streak past in a dizzy blur. Today had drained every ounce of energy from my body with endless meetings, a presentation that dragged on forever, and those pointed stares whenever Carson appeared near our department.
My phone lit up with his message.
Carson: Tomorrow night. Dinner at eight. The blue dress looks good on you.
Always commands, never requests. I exhaled slowly and tapped back a response.
Me: I might have plans already.
His reply arrived before I could even put my phone down.
Carson: I spoke to your manager. You're free.
My jaw clenched. The audacity of this man never ceased to amaze me.
The cab finally reached my building, and I handed the driver extra cash before dragging myself through the lobby. My heels echoed off the marble floors as I waited for the elevator, my reflection looking as defeated as I felt.
