Jennie

"I'll see you tomorrow. Until then, don't get off. Got it?"

As I return to the fundraiser with shaky knees and a washed sex toy in my purse, that doesn't seem like such a hard order to follow. I just came so hard in a public bathroom that it ought to hold me for a year. My back aches from where I pressed it against the wall, and my toes still cramp a little from how I curled them.

I'm limping. That's not all to do with the toes. The vibrator filled me perfectly—it felt like Lisa had made it for me alone—and I feel the stretch.

No, I think, as I return to the throng, waiting to get off isn't what's bothering me. Now all I have to do is put my finger on what is. Lisa gave me what I asked for. It was unbelievably good. Why am I discontented?

"Jennie!"

I'm turning toward Mark before I even realize it, walking toward him with my head held high. My makeup and hair are perfect, my dress is in good order, and I look every bit as he expects me to look. As I've always looked.

Long before I met Lisa Manoban.

Mark is with his wife tonight. Felicia looks stunning as always, in a maroon sheath that emphasizes her perfect figure. Her eyes are wide with sympathy as she waves me down.

We exchange air kisses. She wears the nicest perfume. It's always made my heart skip a beat, now that I think about it. The realization makes my stomach squirm.

"Jennie," she murmurs. "I was worried we wouldn't get to see you tonight. I wanted to say I'm so sorry about you and Taehyung."

You and Taehyung. That's the euphemism people are using so they don't have to say "the divorce."

"Thank you." I snatch a champagne flute from the nearest passing waiter. It will be my second glass tonight, hard on the heels of my first. Champagne goes to my head. That's the only explanation for why I could have done what I just did.

You don't need another glass, then, I think as I take a sip.

"I don't want to pry, but I'm always here if you need to talk." Felicia pats my arm. "And if you need a professional to talk to, I can give you a reference."

"Felicia, come on." Mark looks uncomfortable. He towers over his petite wife. He has enough personality to fill this entire room. And yet Felicia seems to match him exactly. "You don't just say that."

Felicia rolls her eyes. "What is with the stigma against therapy? All I'm saying is, Jennie, I've got you covered, if need be."

Therapy might not be the worst idea in the world. If only I weren't worried that someone would listen to my story and decide to lock me up for life.

Or tell me I should stop. The idea sends a chill through me.

"Thanks. I'll remember that," I tell Felicia, who knows me well enough not to expect any immediate agreement or enthusiasm. I can believe she's disappointed about the end of my marriage. It complicates things socially. When I was with my first husband, we frequently had dinner with her and Mark. That stopped after I divorced. It started up again when I married Taehyung. I've since managed to forget what an uncoupled existence is like, but now the memories are all rushing back.

"Let's change the subject," Mark says. I don't blame him; he, Sehun, and I spent a tiring amount of time this past week working through the implications of my divorce and what it could mean for the firm. "I meant to ask you but haven't had time. You're getting together a paper trail for Sana?"

He doesn't look pleased. Sana was his hire, not mine. It must seem like I've stepped beyond my bounds, but hell, my name is first on the door. "Yes."

"Don't you think that's drastic? She told me today—"

"Why did she wait that long?"

Mark frowns. "And said she was considering lodging a complaint against the firm for being unfairly singled out."

I can't hold back my snort of laughter, so I don't try. "Really? Let her. I've got documentation and one extremely dissatisfied client to back me up."

"Sana is a gifted attorney," he argues. "And she brought a client base with her."

"So let her cater to them and stop driving off the clients we've attracted since. What's your evidence for 'gifted?'"

He looks a little sheepish. "I grant you, when I knew her before, she was a little more on the ball than she is now. But she's a good person to have in our corner. People underestimate her, and that can work to our advantage—so long as we don't underestimate her, too."

I lift an unimpressed eyebrow. "I've only started a paper trail, Mark. I haven't fired her. If that's too much for her fragile ego, then I'd say she deserves to be underestimated."

"Jennie…"

"Please, you two," Felicia interjects. "Can we do this somewhere else? The mayor's right over there. I promise you can find better things to do than squabble over an employee."

Mark pats his wife's shoulder with one big hand. "I know. I'll just say one more thing about it, Jennie—"

Felicia groans.

He shakes his head. "Just one more thing. I know times are hard right now, but you're running roughshod over a lot of people. Marcus spends a lot of time looking like a kicked dog, too. And as for your assistant…"

A strange choking sound gets lodged in my throat. At least it doesn't make it out of my mouth.

"I hear you're working her from dawn till dark, more than you ever did Stephanie. I know you get more done for the firm than Sehun and I do combined, but you don't have to run yourself into the ground, okay? Take some time off while you have to deal with this. Let us take on a little more of the burden."

Mark's eyes are warm with sincerity, but it's too much like condescension for my tastes. I built this firm from nothing, and Mark's telling me to run along like a good little girl while the boys take care of things?

I could handle that just fine if not for the little line about working her from dawn till dark. If only he knew that Lisa's work extends to after hours, too. I throb between my legs just remembering it.

"I can handle myself," I say sharply enough that both Mark and Felicia frown. "And Marcus was my hire, so if that's your criterion about who's allowed to interfere, then I'll just have to think about putting him on notice as well."

"Jennie!" Mark looks genuinely surprised at my outburst. "Whoa, calm down. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry."

"I'm not fragile." I finish my champagne and set the empty flute down hard enough on a nearby table that I nearly prove how fragile it is by comparison. "I know what I'm doing."

Do I? Following two glasses of champagne on an empty stomach, plus an orgasm I can still feel in my toes, I can't be quite sure of that. "I'd better go home."

Mark glances at the mayor, who's still surrounded by sycophants. "That sounds like a good idea."

I snort again. "Don't worry. You think I'd do anything to put the good name of my firm at risk? You can handle the PR." It's one of Mark's biggest strengths. He's extremely personable. People don't exactly warm up to me in record time.

Felicia opens her purse. "Let me call a Lyft for you."

"I've got it." My last remnant of courtesy shows itself. "Thank you, though. Good night."

I pride myself on my steady gait. My purse feels heavier than usual. Why? Oh, that's right. There's a vibrator in it.

I retrieve my wrap from the coat check. If only Mark knew how truly inappropriate I've been tonight. The Jennie Kim of only one month ago could never have imagined doing such a thing. It might, in fact, have put the good name of the firm just a little bit at risk—if I'd been caught.

The thought of getting caught sends a shiver through me. The idea of anyone seeing me with a vibrator stuffed inside me, my head back against the wall while Lisa drove me insane from miles away. It would be an utter disaster. I'd be so humiliated. Wouldn't I?

I throb between my legs at the thought.

She sounded so calm over the phone. Dammit, doesn't she know what she's doing to me? Doesn't she have any sense of who I am by now? I was the one who called her, for Christ's sake. I was the one who did something so hazardous. She ought to know now that that's not the sort of thing I usually do, certainly not the sort of thing I've ever done before.

Can't she appreciate that? Doesn't she care?

I stand on the front steps of the Ritz-Carlton, keeping my chin high and confident that nobody can see I've had one too many. If only I weren't such a lightweight. Then I'd be able to stick it out at this fundraiser tonight, shake hands with the mayor and other luminaries, grit my teeth when people ask where Taehyung is, and find a little fucking shame.

I rub my fingertips at my temples. What am I doing? For the first time since we set the parameters of our arrangement, I'm having second thoughts. My inability to stay away from Lisa has unearthed a repository of need I never knew existed—need that makes me into a weaker person. If news of it came out, it wouldn't just show that to the world. It would complicate my divorce, it would scandalize my family, it would lose me the respect I've worked so hard to earn.

It's got to stop. It's just got to.

The thought makes me clutch my wrap more tightly. My grip wrinkles the velvet fabric over my heart.

Unthinkable. I cannot. Nothing else has ever made me feel so alive as what I have with Lisa.

But what is that? What do we have? She didn't seem impressed that I'd taken such a risk for our encounter tonight. Didn't seem…deeply moved. I'm not sure anything I've ever done has moved her beyond the proddings of desire. I know she wants me, but she's never indicated it's anything more. She's been clear, in fact, that that's all there is.

The champagne must be making me morose. I've always been a bit of a sad drunk. Not like Lisa, who gets exuberant and sends me texts from clubs that bring an unwilling smile to my face even as I worry for her safety. Because I do that. I want her, I crave her, I think of her, and I worry about her.

Fuck. I have got to get myself out of this before it's too late, forever.

It's a temperate night, so I'm not freezing out here on the steps, but my shoes hurt, and I need to return to my empty apartment and sleep this off. I check my phone. Where the hell's that Lyft?

Oh. Right.

I should probably call for one.