Sharon reclined on her small apartment’s couch, the dim light casting soft shadows across the room. Her phone rested on her lap as she read Bruce’s text for the third time.
Bruce: Free for dinner tomorrow? I’d like to discuss something important.
Her lips curled into a faint smile. He was direct, yet careful. The perfect balance of confidence and subtlety that intrigued her. She could already imagine him waiting at a high-end restaurant, his eyes lighting up when she arrived.
But her thoughts were interrupted by another buzz. This time, it was Russell.
Russell: I can’t stop thinking about you. Meet me tonight. Please.
Her brow furrowed. Desperate, are we? she thought.
She allowed herself a moment of indulgence, imagining Russell pacing in frustration, torn between his ego and his nee
