Life in Draft Mode: BOOK 1

THE MEETING DAZE

The rest of the morning was a total blur of professional incompetence.

Maya sat across from her most important client, a manuscript spread out between them, but the red ink on the pages looked like a distant memory.

Every time her client asked a question, Maya’s brain would reset to the sensation of the restroom—the roar of the dryer, the smell of Elias’s cologne, and the undeniable, solid heat she’d felt when she leaned in.

"Maya? Are you following the logic of the third chapter?" the client asked, tapping the table.

Maya blinked, a faint blush creeping up her neck. "The... the logic. Yes. It's very... firm. Structurally sound," she stammered, her mind flashing back to the moment her hips had pressed against him. She was usually the one fixing everyone else's drafts, but right now, her own thoughts were a chaotic, unedited mess.

Meanwhile, across town, Elias was staring at a blueprinted skyscraper that might as well have been a drawing of a toaster for all the sense it made to him. His lead architect was pointing at the foundation, but Elias was still feeling the phantom warmth of Maya’s soft curves against his bicep.

"Elias, the load-bearing walls. Can we move them?" Elias didn't hear him. He was leaning back in his chair, a goofy, dazed smile plastered on his face. He felt like he was floating. When he realized his boss was staring at him, waiting for an answer, he just cleared his throat and nodded. "It’s all about the... chemistry of the materials. Very reactive."

The second the meeting ended, Elias retreated to his desk. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking, he pulled out his phone. He opened his gallery and looked at the accidental photo. The lace, the damp silk, the incredible curves—it was a masterpiece of a "first draft."

He felt that familiar rush of heat again. He looked at the time. Shift over in four hours. He couldn't wait that long.

He opened his messages and typed out a text to the number saved as "Lois Lane ☕️":