5
Elle
I waited all day for his message. My shift passed in a blur of making drinks, pretending to listen to people talk, smiling when I was supposed to. But my body was humming with tension, and my phone never left my pocket.
It came at 5:02 p.m., just after I stepped out of the shower.
Damon: Back office. Ten o’clock. Don’t be late. Don’t wear the binder.
I stared at the screen. Heart pounding. I hovered over the reply box, typed out okay, deleted it. Typed yes, Sir, deleted that too. In the end, I didn’t respond. I just stood there dripping on the tile, clutching the phone with wet fingers and a fluttering chest.
I didn’t wear the binder. I didn’t wear much at all, just a loose black hoodie, old jeans, no bra. I didn’t want to look sexy. I wanted to look like I was still hiding, e
