The gentle sound of water from the shower struck the marble floor, leaving it wet and slick beneath Miles feet.
Soap washed down the hard lines of his body under the steady pressure of the stream.
His face tilted upward into the spray, eyes closed as he enjoyed the lukewarm space.
It was Saturday morning—the test-strategy day for Maria's project.
Another day to be with her.
Miles lowered his head from the shower, opening his eyes to stare at the marble wall before him.
The memory of Maria's body in the blue dress sent heat rushing to his groin.
He placed a hand against the wall and leaned into it, remembering she had enforced boundaries with Daniel.
The truth was that he felt ashamed for a moment at how little control he had around her.
He should have learned by now but he hadn't.
He had even considered forfeiting his volunteer to closely follow up the project.
Any senior staff could easily replace him—even Daniel.
Miles clenched his fists.
Turning off the shower, his arousal tempted his hands toward a quick, solo release, fueled only by the memory of her eyes lowering to his chest, the innocent seduction in the shape of her thighs, the gentle sway of her waist.
Miles inhaled sharply and stepped out of the shower, escaping the temptation of temporary relief.
**
Maria double-checked her trousers in the faint reflection on the cooling trailer's aluminum wall.
It was going to be a busy day so she had chosen an outfit that paired with the company T-shirt but allowed more freedom of movement.
A pair of plain black palazzo trousers—her favorite kind.
They gave her curves room to move subtly without drawing too much attention.
Or so she thought.
The trailer stopped.
Moments later, a beeping sound came from the rear entrance as the door split open.
Two men from the Fleet team appeared in navy-blue overalls.
"Oooh," One of them whistled. "Looking good, Miss Maria."
"Thank you, Jason," Maria replied with a smile as she stepped down the attachable stairs, leaving the men to offload the pushcart and set up their assigned sales spot.
Maria surveyed the area.
The rising sun already promised good weather for the rest of the day, though she hadn't brought sunglasses.
A good number of teenagers were already present, some practicing on their respective courts surrounded by rows of chairs for the anticipated audience.
It was a massive arena—the kind of space that seemed designed to reinforce the reputation of a school like Minchstone.
She noticed other brands setting up their sales spot as well.
Maria already prayed before bed the night before, and again before leaving the house that morning, hoping the test would yield good results.
If it didn't, they might have to start the production process again—or move past it entirely, which would affect long-term patronage.
Then she wondered if Miles would still come.
If Jason had complimented her figure in the trousers…What would Miles do?
She bit her lower lip, suddenly lost in imagining his gaze.
Maria walked back toward the pushcart, where the men had nearly finished setting up.
The setup was simple yet elegant.
A green-and-white umbrella rose above the cart, enough to shade at least two waiting customers.
Three flower vases sat neatly on the counter—two holding sunflowers and one filled with white lilies.
A transparent triangular mini-cooling fridge displayed two neat rows of puddings for sight advertising.
The men had also placed a moderate extension of green carpet grass beneath the pushcart.
Maria stepped into the small space behind the cart.
It was large enough for two people—even three—with two comfortable high chairs overlooking the serving area.
A larger, horizontal fridge rested below, storing extra puddings.
A gentle breeze came from two mist fans positioned on either side of the cart.
Maria shook her head, more amused than impressed by Miles' still-flashy choice of a pushcart.
At the same time, she reminded herself that he was a man born into comfort and wasn't used to stepping out of it.
If he would be here, then this was probably the lowest he could go to inconvenience himself.
**
Miles packed his Porsche at the garage, cursing quietly as he stepped out, reluctantly strolling into the arena, toward the spot where the pushcart and Maria were set up.
His shades shielded his eyes from the sun as he felt the heat press against his skin.
There was wind now, but it probably wouldn't last once the crowd thickened.
Teenagers were already pouring into the arena.
His eyes found Maria immediately.
She stood, leaning against the pushcart's counter, watching the crowd.
The flowers beside her seemed to mirror her own quiet beauty.
It was the first time he had seen her so relaxed, free from the constant tension of work.
As Miles approached, her eyes flickered toward him before quickly turning away—though she caught herself too late.
He smirked.
By the time he reached the pushcart, Maria was already holding the small door open, her nervousness making him miss the moment in her earlier posture.
"Good morning, sir," She said with a gentle smile.
"Goodmorning, Maria," Miles said as he stepped past her into the pushcart's compact interior. He hoped his design hadn't blurred her plan to keep the spot simple.
Maria shut the door and moved to stand beside him.
"Hope you're having a goodmorning, sir?"
Miles turned his gaze to face her.
The guilt struck him instantly because the first thing he noticed was her trousers.
The perfect fullness of her thighs.
As if offering the very center of her femininity.
He gulped and forced his gaze back to her now slightly bashful face.
"It's been a good morning so far, Maria. Drop the sir."
"Yes, Miles," She replied, meeting his eyes.
Miles turned his attention forward as he took the second high chair behind the counter.
He forced himself not to watch her as she sat down beside him.
"It's favorable weather," he said, once she settled.
"Yes, it is," Maria replied lightly. "The program should start in ten minutes. What's your favorite sport?"
"There'll be no need," Miles frowned. "I won't be going into the arena."
"Why not?" She asked.
Her tone made him look at her.
"Fine," she added. "I'll go alone to share the samples. Though we'd cover more grounds faster if we did it together."
Miles listened, enjoying her confidence—and subtle bossiness.
"Neither of us needs to go into the crowd. I have a better way."
"Well, if we keep making it luxurious," Maria said, "It might signal class. People will be quicker to patronize because of that."
"Sharing samples is quite showy for a pudding stand," Miles replied.
"Okay," She sighed in resignation.
Miles didn't want her out there.
Not with a crowd of unruly teenage boys watching.
"My favorite sport is soccer," he said.
"You used to play?" she asked.
"Yeah," Miles replied, remembering how much he had loved it in high school—enough to consider pursuing it as a career. "I was good at it too. Not a fan?"
"There's always so much running around." She complained. "I prefer chess or card games. No running at all."
"Running is good," Miles said. "Jogging would be a nice start. Great for the heart."
His phone beeped with a message from Jake.
I'm here.
"And then your ankle twists," Maria said.
Miles looked at her in amusement.
She pouted, avoiding his gaze. "I'm just jealous of people who can do it."
Miles chuckled while sending Jake directions.
"Your ankle twists when you run?"
"It just happens. It's not my fault," she insisted.
"We both know why it happens that way," Miles replied, watching her bite her lower lip.
Music began pulsing from the arena stage as more teenagers filled the open space.
"So what's the plan, sir?" Maria asked.
Before he could answer, Miles saw Jake approaching.
**
"You'll see," Miles said.
Maria followed his gaze to a teenage boy—at least a senior—walking toward them.
He looked almost exactly like Miles.
Grey shorts. A fitted white polo. The resemblance was unmistakable, just younger.
Maria couldn't hide the confusion on her face.
"He's my cousin," Miles said, removing his shades as the boy reached the pushcart where he stood with his hands in his pockets, glancing around skeptically.
"This is so embarrassing," the boy muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Yup, Maria thought. Definitely a nepo baby.
"Maria, meet Jake," Miles said.
Jake turned abruptly, just noticing her.
"Hello, Jake," Maria greeted with a smile.
Jake's expression brightened immediately. He leaned across the counter dramatically.
"Hi, Miss Maria."
"Maria," Miles said sharply, his expression slightly annoyed.
"Yes sir," she replied.
"Jake will be handling the samples," Miles explained. "We'll give him ten cups of pudding for his friends, though I still don't understand how one person has that many."
Jake scoffed.
Oh, so that was the plan.
"Wouldn't that be restrictive for sampling?" Maria asked.
"They're a loud group," Miles replied. "Trust me, that's enough leverage for visibility."
"I also play football and wrestle," Jake added with a smirk toward Maria. "I just need to take my shirt off and this place will sell out in seconds."
Miles rolled his eyes.
Maria stepped down from her chair to grab a mini bucket and some ice and puddings from the fridge.
"This is so stress free, big coz," Jake continued. "You should've told me we wouldn't be working alone. I could've dressed better."
"Not enough girlfriends in your class I see," Miles replied coolly.
Maria stood upright again—catching Miles' eyes resting on her rear before he quickly looked away.
Jake leaned forward to peek as well, but Miles' lethal glare stopped him instantly.
Maria placed the bucket on the counter and pushed it toward Jake.
"This is it."
"Maria," Jake called in a suspiciously innocent tone,
"I might need you to escort me. So you can teach me how to handle—"
"You're fine on your own, Jake," Miles cut in.
"It's alright if he needs my help—" Maria began.
"And he doesn't," Miles said firmly, turning to her. "You can leave now, Jake."
Jake scoffed but grabbed the bucket.
"See you around, Miss Maria."
He waved and disappeared into the crowd, oblivious to the tension he had stirred.
Silence settled between them.
"Sir," Maria said finally. "I'll have to move around at some point to supervise consumption behavior."
"You will," Miles replied calmly while staring at his phone. "Jake is just too chaotic to walk around with."
Maria sat back, inwardly seething at how Miles had dismissed his jealousy so easily by blaming Jake's personality.
The host's voice suddenly echoed across the arena through a microphone.
"Let the games begin!"