Miles swiveled slowly in Daniel's office chair, turning lazily from side to side.
The grey morning light filtered through the glass wall behind him, softened by partially drawn blinds.
Citrus diffuser fragrance lingered thick in the air, reflecting faintly off the polished silver floors and elegant ceiling panels.
He waited for her.
Maria.
His determination to see her was beginning to feel obsessive.
He had deliberately sent Daniel to observe today's core sports day at Minchstone High School.
A staff member could have handled it, but Miles framed it as strategically important—identifying the most influential athletes would strengthen the product launch's appeal.
Rhea would be occupied all day with Mapla's Budgeting and Accounting branch, three floors below.
Which meant it would just be him and Maria.
He had read her email the night before, impressed by her structural targets and thoughtful alternatives.
The midweek deadline hadn't stopped him from requesting a personal presentation. Officially, it was a professional necessity for possible arguments.
Unofficially, the sick part of him enjoyed watching her femininity tease him—whether she realized it or not.
He had added casually, that a dress like the one she wore at their previous meeting suited his office style perfectly.
Her reply had been simple.
'Yes, sir' and official highlights of her understanding.
Miles exhaled slowly, frustrated with his stubbornness.
His father's warning.
The risk of his interference with Maria—a reason to stay away to protect her.
And yet here he was.
Engineering situations to make it worse, especially for her.
The intercom beeped red.
"Goodmorning, Mr. Miles." Maria's voice filtered through, inviting but restrained.
"Come in, Maria." He said, anticipating the dress she would dare to wear, her rebellion to Daniel's preference.
The door unlocked with a soft click.
Dark red suede heels stepped inside first. Smooth calves. A blue dress falling clean and fluid over her frame—a perfect fit, undeniably daring with a body like hers in a building full of men.
She approached the desk, holding her files to the tempting volumes of her chest.
Her hips swayed subtly as she walked carefully, as if trying not to cause too much movement.
The faint scent of vanilla reached him before she did.
Her face was slightly flustered, eyes instinctively meeting his for a brief second before dropping to the table.
"How are you, Maria?" he asked smoothly.
This time she looked better than stressed, courtesy of his reduction of her workload to focus on the project.
"I'm alright sir." She replied with a small smile. Controlled. Careful.
"There'll be no need for files," he said. "Take one of the tablets and log in to your account. You can elaborate from there. Is that comfortable?"
"Yes, it is, sir."
She placed the files from her chest on the table, unintentionally giving him a clearer view of her form through the dress as she picked up a tablet.
The room dimmed slightly as the blinds adjusted against the brightening sun.
The screen's glow illuminated her face.
She looked up at him. "I'm ready sir,"
Miles leaned back slightly. "Your target list outlined reasons to postpone the launch. I'd like more depth on that."
"Okay, sir." Her eyes dropped briefly to the tablet as she shifted her weight, gently hinting the swing of her lush thighs.
"My first point highlights the need to gather feedback on taste from actual teens and observe their behavior after consumption.
I believe testing with a mixed audience of teens while keeping our brand appearance hidden would work better.
We would rely on packaging as the only marketing after the taste factor."
"We could do that at the launch," Miles said. "Why the need for discretion?"
"For authenticity," Maria answered. "Launch events are polished—the best of everything for marketing.
Students might perform reactions under social pressure."
"Excellent observation," Miles commended.
"Thank you, sir." Her adorable pride leaked through a smile.
The action urged Miles further.
"The dress suits you too," he added.
Her smile faltered briefly as she bit her lower lip, tension flickering through her composure.
"And sir," she continued with slight hesitation, quickly regaining confidence.
"I wanted to include a risk. I wasn't sure you would resonate with it. But perhaps if I explain it alongside my last option of demand signals, it would be worth considering."
"Go ahead, Maria," Miles said, already confident her risk would be reasonable.
**
Maria scrolled to her test folder—the one she was supposed to have deleted last night after typing in a risk plan that she concluded might not be accepted.
But she couldn't resist the urge pressing at the back of her mind to present it to Miles.
His reaction to her ideas fueled her boldness—not just physically.
"I suggest we sell instead of free distribution at first," Maria said.
"Affordable pricing for teens."
Miles tilted his head. "Wouldn't that be another 'showy' pressure point?"
"Not if the retail setup is simple," she countered, "No glamour. No hype. Just product and price."
His brow lifted."I like that,"
She kept her eyes steady above his neck, stopping them from wandering to the loose buttons of his black shirt.
"Something smaller than a caravan," Maria added as she held his gaze, curling her toes in her shoes.
Hoping the suggestion wouldn't be seen as a degradation of the company's image instead.
"A pushcart?" Miles asked quizzically.
Maria nodded, now heavily anticipating the critique that she had already made up her mind not to defend.
"How many?"
"One," Maria said despite her nerves. "A restricted amount is also competent for consumer behavior.
"Enough test products, but limited. I suggest two staff members behind it while a more capable vehicle waits behind the scenes for easier transportation.
The snack bars can be included as tiny bonuses attached to each pudding."
"What event are you targeting for this, in case I consider this risk?" Miles asked.
"It's an over-the-weekend event," she said, skeptical, having at the back of her mind how a lot of employees were not fans of interrupted work-free Saturdays.
"It's happening Saturday. Their sports week always has fun, weekend-friendly competitions with neighboring schools.
A wide range of teen audiences beyond Minchstone," she continued. "I volunteer to be one of the staff to join the crew if it's considered."
At least if she were there, she would feel less guilty and would actually monitor real reactions from the students to ensure not just a successful launch, but good retention.
"I also volunteer," he said.
Maria's heart leapt with excitement. He had really accepted the risk.
"There can only be two people behind a pushcart," he added calmly, his gaze following the slow sudden shift of her hips to the side. "It'll be interesting…supervising your strategy in motion."
"I'd be grateful for the opportunity," Maria said, her body tempted to turn fully to the side, but her mind held her firm.
She dropped her eyes to his hands, feeling again, the roughness of his palms against her breasts from the balcony that night.
"It's reasonable," his voice called her eyes to his face. "And Brilliant."
Maria smiled, inwardly jubilating that she had spoken up.
This way she was more assured of better and long-term results for the project.
"Do you have any other questions, sir?" She asked as her mind resurfaced with his last words to her at the fundraiser before they were interrupted.
"How long have you been with Daniel?"
The question shocked her. She had not expected it.
"Pardon me, sir?" Her voice shook, her confidence too.
"I'm sure you heard me, Maria."
"Sir, I'm not comfortable discussing personal matters, especially since you mentioned that was why Daniel wouldn't supervise me," she said steadily.
His smirk deepened as if accepting her challenge.
He rose slowly from his seat and circled the table to where she stood.
"I assumed you dress a certain way for his approval."
Maria took a step back as Miles stopped in front of her, his airy cologne filling the space.
She clutched the tablet to herself, now aware of the dress Miles had influenced her to wear.
"He says I wear…what's comfortable," Maria said, her gaze lowered, determined not to lose herself this time to him.
Miles leaned back against the table edge between the guest chairs.
Maria raised her face, surprised because she expected a different reaction.
"Dresses like this suit you better," he said, crossing his hands.
His suit wasn't on—just the shirt, the muscles of his arms peaking through the crisp ironed lines.
"Thank you, sir," she said, meeting his eyes again.
"I didn't say that for just gratitude, Maria."
"Daniel's my boyfriend. It'll be better if you take it up with him sir," she said.
It was better to show him that she was capable of putting a stop to the chemistry between them.
Silence.
Maria noticed the slight clench of his jaw.
He was pissed.
"I-I'm sorry, sir," she added quickly, hoping he would understand the red signals she was struggling to give.
His gaze dropped to where she clutched the tab to her chest before he said, "It's okay if you're ready to leave. I'll consult the crew that will be working with us on Saturday.
By Friday we should have enough samples to sell for tasting."
Disappointment gnawed at her insides. Her body had yet again expected a different reaction from him.
She smiled politely. "Thank you once again for the opportunity."
She moved to retrieve her files from the table right beside where he leaned, watching her.
Before she could step away, his hands landed on either side of her on the table, caging her in without touching.
Her breath hitched—inwardly excited from the action.
His voice lowered near her ear.
"Confidence isn't just strategy, Maria. It's presence."
His words poured against her neck. The manipulation was unfair, yet her spine nearly arched from the closeness.
"I feel confident in everything I wear, sir," she managed, pushing her mind to override her body's struggle to indulge him.
A pause.
Then his hands lifted.
He stepped back, and she immediately turned around—once again secretly disappointed that he had listened to her.
Maria observed his straight face, where he hid his frustration as if it didn't affect him that she had decided not to succumb to his advances this time.
"I understand, Maria," he said, his hands now in his pockets.
His gaze briefly flickered from her face to her chest. "I'll contact you on Friday."
Maria imagined walking up to him, releasing the tension between them with a kiss.
He, of course, would respond, caressing her curves jealously in the dress.
She nodded. "Yes sir."
She picked up the files from the table, walking past him—close enough to feel the space between them, still a little hopeful he might react.
He didn't.
Neither did he turn to watch her leave the office this time.
Maria sighed in relief and frustration when she got to her desk.
She was supposed to be happy that the project was moving better than she thought.
Instead, she couldn't stop thinking about why Miles hadn't crossed the line her body had desperately wanted him to.