Chapter 1: Introduction
The airport lounge was a symphony of muted conversations, the occasional clink of ice in glasses, and the distant hum of a TV screen tuned to a news channel no one was actually watching. Marcia adjusted the strap of her laptop bag, her fingers brushing against the leather with practiced ease. She had been here before—too many times to count—and yet, the sterile glow of the overhead lights and the faint scent of airplane fuel still made her feel like a stranger in her own routine.
She was early, as always. A habit she’d picked up in her years of project management, where being late was a sin and being on time was just barely acceptable.
The lounge was half-empty—business travelers nursing coffees, a few weary families huddled near the windows, and the occasional couple who looked like they were either just coming from or heading to a destination they’d rather forget. Marcia scanned the room, her gaze flicking over the usual suspects—men in wrinkled suits, women in leggings and oversized sweaters, the occasional uniformed pilot who still carried the air of someone who belonged here more than the rest of them.
She had just settled into a leather chair, her phone already out to check emails, when she heard it—a deep, warm laugh that cut through the ambient noise like a knife through butter. She didn’t look up at first, but she felt it. The way the air around her seemed to shift, just slightly, as if someone had walked into her personal space without actually stepping into it.
Then, the voice.
Smooth, rich, and laced with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.
*"You know, they say the best way to make sure a meeting starts on time is to be the one holding the coffee."*
Marcia looked up, and there he was—Barry, towering over her like a goddamn redwood, his broad shoulders stretching the seams of his tailored suit. His dark brown eyes gleamed with amusement, and that smirk—oh, that smirk—was the kind that had probably gotten him into (and out of) more trouble than he cared to admit.
She exhaled through her nose, forcing herself not to react.
"And yet, here I am, still waiting."
Barry chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest like a bass note. He leaned against the armrest of the chair beside hers, close enough that she caught the faint scent of his cologne—something warm and spicy, like sandalwood and something darker. "You’re early. That’s good. Means you actually care about being on time."
Marcia arched a brow. "Or I just don’t like wasting my own time."
"Fair." He grinned, flashing perfectly white teeth.
"Or maybe you just like the idea of making me wait."
Marcia rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the flicker of amusement in her expression. "God, you’re insufferable."
"Only when I’m not getting what I want," Barry replied smoothly, his gaze lingering just a second too long on her lips before meeting her eyes again. "You look good, by the way. Different."
She glanced down at her outfit—a fitted navy blazer over a white silk blouse, tailored slacks that hugged her curves just right. "I always look good."
"True.
But today, you look *especially* good." Barry’s voice dropped just a fraction, the way it always did when he was flirting. It was a habit she’d noticed before—this deliberate shift in tone, like he was testing the waters to see how far he could push.
Marcia exhaled, pretending to check her watch. "You’re lucky I appreciate honesty. Otherwise, I’d have to remind you that this is a professional setting."
Barry chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Oh, come on. You’re telling me you’ve never fantasized about bending someone over a conference table?"
She nearly choked on her own breath.