The familiar hum of the Redwood Realty Group office filled Reese's ears as she settled into her old, vacant office. The soft rustle of paperwork and the low murmur of agents fielding client calls provided a comforting backdrop, a familiar rhythm she hadn't realized she'd missed. The sleek glass desk in front of her, once her personal domain, was now cluttered with property portfolios, highlighters, and sticky notes—a clear indication that Naomi had expected Reese to take on the workload without hesitation. Reese smoothed her burgundy, mid-long sleeve maxi dress, the soft fabric hugging her frame as she sank into the leather chair.
Sighing, she flipped through the stack of commercial listings, jotting notes on a few promising properties that might pique Christian's interest even if these properties weren't exactly procured for him—that's even if he still wanted her help. Her phone buzzed beside her, and without thinking, she reached for it.
2:12 PM 3234933687: You missed our first deadline, Ms. Sutherlin. I expected better follow-through. You were so efficient the last time we worked together.
Reese narrowed her eyes at the message, her lips pressing into a thin line. She typed back with deliberate calmness.
2:14 PM Reese: I told you I had other priorities and business to attend to.
The reply was almost immediate.
2:15 PM 3234933687: I hope your priorities have shifted. Meet me for lunch.
She rolled her eyes, glancing at the half-eaten Thai salad in the to-go box beside her. His audacity never failed to surprise her.
2:16 PM Reese: Already ate. I'm full.
As Reese turned back to her work, she hoped that would put an end to their back-and-forth. But another text followed, insistent as ever.
2:17 PM 3234933687: Then dinner.
She groaned, tapping her fingers against the desk.
2:18 PM Reese: I'm at Redwood today, assisting an agent with commercial listings. I can't.
2:19 PM 3234933687: I hope those listings are for me.
Reese smirked, shaking her head.
2:20 PM Reese: Are you a client of Redwood?
2:22 PM 3234933687: I'm your client.
2:24 PM Reese: I don't remember agreeing to that.
2:25 PM 3234933687: Show them to me anyway. I'll send a car in a few hours.
She stared at the message, exhaling sharply. She should say no. She wanted to say no.
2:27 PM Reese: I'm not sure that's necessary.
2:29 PM 3234933687: It is. I'll see you soon.
Reese set the phone down and ran a hand through her hair, willing herself to focus. The hours passed in a blur of work, and before she knew it, the clock read 5:15 PM. The office had begun to quiet down, agents packing up for the evening, heading off to holiday parties or back home to their families.
As she reached for her coat and bag, her phone vibrated once more.
5:30 PM 3234933687: Your ride is outside.
Peering out the large office windows, Reese spotted a sleek black town car idling at the curb, the driver standing attentively beside it. A lump formed in her throat. Every rational part of her told her to turn around, head back inside, and forget about the whole thing. But instead, she took a deep breath and walked out.
The ride was silent, the city lights streaking past the tinted windows. Reese sat back against the plush leather seats, stealing a glance at her reflection. She smoothed her hair and tugged lightly at the hem of her dress, the rich burgundy fabric clinging elegantly to her curves. She shouldn't care how she looked. But she did.
When the car finally slowed to a stop in front of a towering glass office building, Reese stepped out, the cold night air nipping at her skin. The off-market property stood before her, its modern architecture glowing under soft ambient lights. It was breathtaking—sleek, sophisticated, and utterly exclusive.
Stepping inside, she was immediately hit with the scent of leather and cedarwood, the luxurious aroma swirling around her as her heels clicked against the pristine marble floor. In the center of the expansive lobby, Christian stood, clad in a dark tailored suit that screamed effortless power. His gaze lifted the moment she entered, and Reese felt the familiar heat of his attention settle on her like a tangible weight.
"You really didn't have to send a car," she said, adjusting the strap of her purse as she approached.
Christian's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "I wanted to make sure you showed up."
She folded her arms, tilting her head slightly. "You could have just asked."
He took a step closer, his voice dropping to that dangerously smooth timbre. "And you would have found an excuse to refuse."
Reese rolled her eyes, turning her attention to the high ceilings and polished interiors. "So, is this what you're after? she asked, gesturing to the building. "Because if it is, I should tell you now—this place isn't exactly up for grabs. Even if I could—"
"You can," he cut her off smoothly, his eyes never leaving hers. "And I want it."
Her jaw tightened, an exasperated sigh slipping past her lips. "I don't have the kind of pull you think I do."
Christian's smirk deepened, and before she could react, he closed the space between them, his hand finding the small of her back.
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a velvety whisper. "I remember you telling me once that I had no idea what you're capable of. Was that a lie?"
Her lips parted slightly, the proximity sending a shiver down her spine. "No," she shot back, keeping her voice light despite the heat pooling in her stomach.
Christian chuckled, the sound low and deep. "I didn't think so."
"Let me give you a tour," he said, leading her toward the elevators.
Reese raised a brow. "This is a strange role reversal. Lead the way."
Christian chuckled, pressing the elevator button. "I'm a man of many talents. You might be surprised."
The elevator doors slid open, and as they stepped inside, Reese could feel his eyes appraising her and watching her every move. "I'm sure you're full of surprises."
She leaned against the wall of the elevator, looking at him with a playful challenge in her eyes.
He stepped closer, his fingers brushing lightly against the curve of her waist. "Let me show you," he murmured, his voice like silk.
The elevator doors opened before she could respond, but the electricity between them lingered as they walked down the dimly lit hallway. Reese took in the luxurious space—polished marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline, and sleek modern furnishings.
"This place is... impressive," she admitted, running her fingers along the edge of a conference table. "But it doesn't exactly scream 'Christian Grey'."
He watched her intently, his gaze never wavering. "I was hoping maybe you could take care of that."
Reese turned to face him, a smirk playing on her lips. "And what exactly does that mean," she teased.
Christian closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, his hands bracketing her against the edge of the table. "It means that you would make this place scream 'Christian Grey.' Make it how I would want it."
"And what if I can't deliver," she whispered.
"You will. I always get what I want," he murmured, his voice a promise.
She swallowed hard, trapped by the intensity in his gaze, the heat radiating off him. "This isn't happening," she whispered, but the tremble in her voice betrayed her resolve.
He leaned in, his lips a breath away from hers. "Tell me to stop," he said, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path down her arm. Reese's heart hammered in her chest. She should tell him to stop. She should walk away. But instead, she found herself whispering, "Christian..."
That was all the permission he needed.