I've never wished for a magic pause button in life … until now. Being with Athena Hawke was like free falling through space at five hundred miles an hour, with the air getting knocked out of my fucking lungs.

It was exhilarating, and I've never felt so alive. I never thought that feeling was possible, without being strapped to a rocket. It was a sense of euphoria better than any drug, and everyone else in the room just melted away.

I'd like to freeze that moment, and hold it a little longer. Smile at its perfection. Gaze at it.

I don't even know what I'm fucking saying. It's like I hardly recognize myself today.

Why is it that every fucking song I'm hearing makes me think of her?

Fuck. I shouldn't be thinking about her, but I am. She hasn't left my mind. Not even for a minute.

The way she held back emotionally last night—the precision, and control with which she wields her words.

How she can pull herself back from the brink - when every animal sense is telling her to go.

I was able to break through that wall of hers. I got her to drop her guard, even if it was for only one night.

The problem is: I want more. I have a taste, and it's not enough. I want the whole package. I want to fuck her.

I don't just want to steal into that stoic outer fortress of hers—I need it. I need to storm it, and knock down every fucking wall.

I look at the calendar on my desk and absentmindedly find myself circling yesterday's date. I run my pen around the date over, and over, the lines deepening and reminding me of its importance in quick circles. It's like I'm fucking crazy.

My phone rings and I don't bother answering it. Instead, I lean back into my leather office chair, and run my fingers through my hair, as if I'm trying to smooth out the thoughts in my brain.

But how can I? My brain is still stuck on last night. Instead of a pause button, life has gifted me with a repeat button.

Athena isn't just another woman. She's an equal. This is the realization that dawns on me. There was a connection—I felt it. I couldn't make that up if I tried. I've fucked a lot of women, but being with Athena is going to be something entirely fucking different.

We shared a connection that I didn't even know I was capable of having with anyone, let alone Athena Hawke.

But none of that matters. I can't fall in love with her.

I'm not going to lose my business just because Athena has gotten under my thick skin. Sorry, but there isn't a woman in the whole world worth that.

No fucking way. There's too much at stake.

Just as I open a spreadsheet on my computer, and give myself a pep talk—something along the lines of 'I better fucking get my shit together and focus on work or else,' Andrew walks in.

It's more of a march than a walk really, like he means business. I catch the faint whiff of cigar smoke on his suit. He must've won another case today. He always smokes a celebratory Cuban cigar after a victory.

"Well, if it isn't the gladiator himself," he smiles, clapping his hands in one triumphant gesture. "You've made it this far; I know you've got this contest in the bag, which is a good thing man because I'm telling you, the vultures are circling."

Those words snap my thoughts to the present. What am I doing thinking about Athena, when I have a battle to win?

I should be thinking like a gladiator, and not a fucking bleeding heart poet.

"And which vulture are you referring to now?" I ask.

"Ben."

"Ben Danvers? That fucking asshole just doesn't know when to quit," I say.

"He's still holding a grudge you know," Andrew says, reaching across my desk for the bottle of whiskey. "You don't mind, do you?" he asks, pouring a glass before I can even answer.

"I think I'll join you," I shrug. "I can use a drink."

"Ben can't ever get over the fact that you got the best of him with that company buyout."

"That was years ago."

"But to him, it feels raw—like it happened yesterday," Andrew says. "He's got something to prove, I guess."

"I can be ruthless, but not that ruthless," I say. "That local business was important to a small, working class community … and you know it."

"Look, I've got your back on this man—always have. I get it. You did the right thing. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that was an act of Mother Teresa or something."

I laugh. "Give me a fucking break."

"No, I mean it. It took a lot of heart for you to do that—instead of letting Ben make a killing on that deal, you scooped it up and let the owners buy it back from you after making them a fortune. It was a generous act."

I shrug. "It was the right thing to do."

"See, that's what I'm talking about," Andrew says. "There's a heart hidden in that cold exterior of yours. Little do most people know, but you've got a soft spot the size of Texas in that chest." He points at me, and gives a quick wink.

"Well, there's no way in hell Ben's ever going to get his hands on my company."

"I hope not," Andrew says, shaking his head.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It just means that this contest isn't over—you've only completed the round for mortals out of 100,” she says to me, her words cool and crisp and her eyes mischievous. “There's still a lot left for those who still believe mistakenly like you that they can win.”

"Since when did you become a pessimist?" I ask.

"I'm a realist. There's a difference. And just as long as you don't listen to your cock, and fall in love with a gorgeous pair of legs and tits, you'll be fine," he smiles.

As Andrew's talking, I remember that I'm seeing Athena again tonight. I look down at my watch, and gauge how much time I have.

There must be something in my face that worries Andrew because he turns to me, "You aren't falling in love with anyone, Malcolm, are you?"

That's a good question…