What the hell had she been thinking? You weren’t thinking, that was the point. Jaggar massaged her temple as she opened the door to TVN studios. She'd woken with a hangover all right, but it hadn’t been of the alcohol variety. It was more of the sexually frustrated variety. And then the holy fuck, she’d made out with Griffin Styles variety.

Just thinking his name made her belly go into auto flip and send a whole bunch of unwanted tingles straight to her lady parts. His hands, his thumb over her nipple, the way his hips had pressed her into the alcove of her door, his hands in her hair, his tongue delving in expertly, making her want more, making her crave more.

Recipe. For. Disaster. Because the jackass had left her hanging. It's not like she hadn’t already made the mistake of making out with him. If she was going to do that, then she might as well have slept with him too. At least she wouldn’t feel like this. Hungry and needy and desperate.

Yeah, that's some sound logic. She should be thanking her fucking lucky stars. Right about now, she couldn’t blame the momentary insanity on the alcohol. She'd had one drink. Granted it was pretty alcoholic and she'd been buzzing, but she had been nowhere near drunk. She'd mainly been completely out of her mind with lust.

Which was ridiculous, because under normal circumstances, the strongest feeling she had toward Griffin Styles was disgust. And annoyance. And disdain. All those words damn it. She didn't want him. Liar. Okay fine. Her body wanted him, but that was stupid and ridiculous and all she had to do was employ some fucking mind over matter.

It was bad enough that half the men in this building pretty much thought she was a blow up Bratz doll, but she worked hard to keep the likable, sweet, but hard working mask on. So most of the time she didn’t blurt out and say what she really thought. Because you can’t say that shit to your boss. Or rather your boss's boss.

So now, she was skulking around the building, trying to avoid Griffin. And what the fuck was she going to say to him anyway? Yeah, last night with your tongue in my mouth when I was pretty much ready to beg you to fuck me outside and you pulled back ... remember that? Yeah, can we do that again? Except this time, you give me a mind-blowing orgasm and then we can go back to hating each other.

Yeah ... no.

Not going to work for her. No, she'd do what every other grown woman did in her position. She'd avoid him like the plague and ghost his ass. She'd heard of famous actresses that pulled this off all the time. They’d made the mistake of sleeping with someone, then had to see them at work and on set, and pretended the other person didn't exist. She could do that right?

She took the back elevator to her office and down the still dark hallway. The way she figured it, she could at least avoid the heavily trafficked areas. And he never made it in this early so she'd be safe ... at least until eight o’clock or so. But as she turned the corner for her office, she found a team of movers packing up her stuff.

The flush of panic was quick and nearly choking. Had everything been yanked away from her? Had they seen through her and realized she was faking it and had no idea what she was doing half the time? They knew that she wasn't as good as she claimed. She sucked in choppy short breaths as she stared at the movers.

One of them looked up and smiled. "Oh hello, Miss Jakes. Sorry, we were meant to have this done before you came in today."

He was smiling. Why was he smiling? Was it a big joke that she'd been fired? "E-excuse me?"

He smacked his head. "You're being moved to an office two floors up." He handed her a slip of paper with the new office number written on it. "Congratulations. That one has a window. I guess it comes with the promotion."

Promotion ... window ... Her brain gears slowly came online and she blinked when the words finally started to make sense. She was getting a bigger office. No one knew she was faking it until she made it. This was a product of a job well done.

So, they didn’t know she was a total fraud then? Suddenly it was easier to breathe. "Oh, uh, thank you."

"Sure thing. If you want to head up, you can. Your new desk and your chair are set up and we’ve already set up your docking station for your laptop. We'll just bring all the rest of your stuff. Here's your key."

"That's great. Thank you." A new office. Well, it seemed like the day wasn't going to be too bad after all. She took the elevator and didn’t bother worrying about Griffin anymore. Well, not entirely true, but she told herself she wasn't worried about him.

The only thing she could do about that situation was not do it again. No matter how much she kept thinking about his hands, his taste, or the press of what seemed like a very impressive erection.

Damn it, stop. The elevator doors opened and she followed the signs to her new office, 405. It had a pseudo open-concept feel with lowered massive cubicles and huge windows. She was the one on her right. This she could work with. Already the area was twice as big as her old office. She could actually spread out in here.

She always avoided bringing personal things to work or moving into her office too much because there was no space. But she might even be able to bring a picture here.

She settled in and started with her emails first as she knew that there was a 9:00 a.m. meeting with Barbara and Ryan.

Her gut clenched just thinking about Ryan. From the moment she’d started, she’d always been cordial to him, but no matter what she did, he continued to act like an asshole, reinforcing the reason why she pretended to have a boyfriend since starting. Most guys just couldn’t take the ‘I'm not interested’ thing to heart without taking it personally. Like Ryan. After the welcome mixer, she’s learned to just steer clear unless absolutely necessary.

She saw the list of story potentials the execs had been bantering around and made notes of points of interest for each of them and did some quick Google research so she'd be prepared for the meeting.

She never liked going into anything blind. At eight on the dot, she heard footsteps down the hall, which confused her because no one ever came in until nine. At least not in this studio, with all the primetime shows. Most of this team worked from home all morning and came in at ten since for the most part they had later shifts.

When Griffin stalked into the office, her breath caught. He was her damn roommate? He hesitated when he saw her, their gazes locking for a split second. He gave her a brusque head nod before taking his seat.

Wait, that was it? Zero acknowledgment other than that? No sniping, muttered comments, no nothing? What the hell? He was ghosting her?

She couldn’t explain the fury she felt, considering that had been her plan, but she so wasn’t down for this shit. He couldn’t just pretend she wasn't there.

The seeds of doubt started to sprout and she mentally shut them down. This is his shit, not your shit. If he wanted to pretend, then fine by her. Apparently the Griffin she'd met last night, the one who was less of an asshole had been an aberration. Well, two could play at that game. She could pretend last night didn't happen too. Never mind that now that he'd touched her, now that she knew what he tasted like, all her body wanted was to have it again.

No. No more Griffin. She had to work with him, but she was never letting him touch her again. And considering how Ryan felt about her, she would be wise to stay away from his protégé.

* * *

Damn, she smelled good. Griffin deliberately kept his gaze on his laptop. The new office setup was similar to the one downstairs, only in that they were across from each other, but this one was way swankier.

One major problem with the new digs, though. He could hear her voice, her mutterings to herself as she made notes. Her voice was throaty and seductive and all he wanted in the world right about now was to hear it whisper his name again and again and again. Actually, strike that. He wanted to hear it while he was buried so deep inside her, he couldn't remember his own damn name. That's what he wanted. Not going to happen.

Last night had been ...

Hot. Mind blowing. Epic. He could spend a whole night just kissing her and be perfectly okay with that. Just kissing her was enough to send the tingles all over his fucking body. Oh yeah, then why didn't you fuck her?

Yeah, why hadn't he? Because she was the competition. Because he knew he was going to have to see her today. Or fuck, maybe because he knew that once wouldn’t be enough.

Shit. All of the above. He didn't know. Hell, he couldn’t even explain or rationalize why he'd kissed her in the first place. She'd been standing there, they'd been talking, and then, he'd just ... just what? Lost his damn mind, that's what. If she'd have let him, he'd have fucked her right in her doorway last night.

But that's not something he could do. He knew the rules to be the best, to stay on top. Letting women in, especially women like Jaggar Jakes, got in the way of that. His father taught him that. So today, eyes on the mother fucking prize. No funny business. Work and stay they fuck away from her. Except, that was easier said than done. Because he could smell her, and she smelled so good.

His cock twitched. Yeah dude, I know. He'd spent a sleepless night trying to forget about her taste, how soft her skin was, that fucking smell. But it had all wound around him finding the weak spots, and then sliding in under his skin, making him itchy and tight.

It was a feeling a night of jerking off certainly hadn't cured. If anything, touching his dick whenever he thought about her had pretty much just trained his dick to go hard when in the presence of her scent ... like now.

He could do this. He was a Styles. He could have any woman he wanted. He didn’t need this woman. He checked the clock. He had a meeting to get to. If he just ignored her ... this would go away. You sure about that?

At five to nine, she stood and grabbed her laptop and notebook. He followed her out of the office and of course told himself not to stare at her ass. Again, easier said than done. She was wearing that red skirt. It wasn't exactly tight, but it hugged every one of her curves and she'd paired it with a white button down with her sleeves rolled up. She looked professional. Except in his head, that skirt also hiked up and she wasn’t wearing panties underneath.

He would get a handle on this. He had to.

Ryan and Barbara were already in the conference room and he chose a seat as far away from Jaggar as he could manage. They were followed by two segment producers so he had an extra buffer between him and Jaggar. Thank God.

When Ryan started the meeting, Griffin breathed a sigh of relief. Finally something he could focus on besides how much he wanted her.

"I wanted to say congratulations to Griffin and Jaggar for the new show and that we're excited to have you two on board. We've got some great ideas for the next month of shows and we can’t wait to hear your thoughts. Barbara and I have come up with some exciting concepts we think will work well with your strengths."

As Ryan and Barb talked them through the ideas for the next month, he took notes and took little notice of Jaggar ... that is until she flicked her hair off her shoulder, or stuck the end of her pen into her mouth or leaned over to make a note. So yeah ... he didn't notice her at all. Everything was fine as they interjected ideas until they started to hone down on the concept of the first show.

Ryan flipped the screens on the PowerPoint. "Milton Randall. Obviously you know who he is. His team has agreed for us to do an exposé."

This was the big one. Journalists had been trying to poke holes in the Randall facade for years. A billionaire’s son. Married, was known as a hard worker at his father's oil conglomerate. But he left to start working for Green Clean air, severing ties with his family.

Everyone knew this story. He'd walked away from all that money because he wanted to affect change. He was doing great things. But Griffin’s instincts wanted to peel back the layers. "I mean, a million stories have been done on him. What’s our new angle?"

Ryan nodded. "I hear you. The new angle is he's running for Congress. He's using the show as his announcement platform."

Shit. "He's going to announce on the show? That's crazy. And he's going to let us go into the family history and past and everything?"

Ryan put his hands up. "You know, within reason. There will be a vetting of our questions of course. But yeah, we'll be allowed carte blanche."

Jaggar spoke up. "Will we be allowed access to his family, the side he severed himself from?"

Ryan rolled his eyes and Griffin’s hairs stood up. It was a valid question. Ryan was sometimes a douche, but he was good at his job and Jaggar had asked a good question, so she shouldn't be dismissed.

His mentor shook his head. "The story is on him. That's the focus. The work he's doing with Green Clean. That's the focus. His people don’t want us working on anything else."

Jaggar frowned, her voice going flat. "All due respect, to get the kind of story we want, a whole picture of the man, we need to look at his past."

Ryan just pretended he didn't hear her. "So obviously, we'll talk to his wife and his children. She’s had some infertility problems so we want to focus on their struggle as a family."

The segment producers asked some questions about logistics and access to the children, but Griffin could see Jaggar’s face and his gut twisted.

Barbara tried to circle back around to Jaggar’s question, but Ryan shut her down too. "I'm not sure if you’re hard of hearing Barb, but like I just told Jaggar, we’re not going back to the family. He's agreed to this interview if the focus is on him, his present and not his past.”

What the fuck? This show was about telling real stories. This was what he'd signed up for. What the hell was Ryan doing?

As the meeting rolled on, and they talked about the rest of the month, every time Jaggar brought something up, or Barb tried to back her, Ryan would shoot them down. But if he or a segment producer brought it up, then Ryan told them to run with it. The longer Griffin sat there, the more uncomfortable he became. Ryan had always backed him, made sure his star was on the rise, but this was bullshit.

Jaggar opened her mouth to comment on the story they had lined up for a Syrian refugee and before she could even open her mouth, Ryan shut her up.

"Jaggar, we'll get to you. You know what, why don’t you write down your thoughts, send them to Barb and I'll see what has merit."

The words were out before Griffin could stop them. "Actually, Ryan, I'd like to hear what Jaggar has to say."

Ryan narrowed his gaze, but Griffin ignored him.

Jaggar's eyes went wide as she looked around the room. "I, I was just going to say, it might be a great angle to actually trace her steps from escape to freedom. We can even make it a multi-week segment."

That was a good idea. A great idea actually. "I think that's fantastic. If our goal here is to tell the real stories, then that's perfect. And I think Jaggar should take point."

Jaggar looked around again, waiting for someone to object. Ryan glared at Griffin, but he just stared back. Ryan was blocking her, and he was hurting them in the process. She had good ideas.

Ryan backed off, but Griffin had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the end of it. So if he was going to get an earful, he might as well go for broke. "And for what it's worth, I think the Randall story needs to look at his past too. If we're getting to focus on him now, there's a reason for that. Something is buried in what we can't see. It's our job to find it and tell that story."

Jaggar's lips twitched, but she continued to study him like she'd never seen him before. Yeah well, he didn’t recognize himself either. Ryan was going to be pissed, but he didn’t care. This wasn't about Jaggar. This was about doing his job well. At least, that’s what he told himself.

When the meeting was dismissed, Ryan held him back for a minute. "You want to tell me what the hell that was with you and your girlfriend?"

Griffin kept his voice even. "I could ask you the same thing. You were turning down legitimate questions and story angles and for what? I know you don’t like her, and the feeling is mutual." Sort of. "But a good story is a good story."

"You say you want that show on your own? The only way to get that is to push little-miss-tits-and-ass out. The sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be, so keep on taking her side and she'll take you down with her. We agreed that you'd trust me."

Griffin tilted his chin up. "This isn’t about sides. This is about the story. Whatever you have going with her and Barbara, I don't give a shit. I'm going to do my job. You want to take me down a peg for it, fine. But remember, this is about the story. Not some personal shit. I trust you far enough to remember that much."

Ryan’s face flushed red and he clenched his jaw. Griffin braced himself to get his ass chewed out, but it didn’t come. Instead Ryan dragged in calming breaths, and eventually clamped a hand on his arm. “We have a plan. You know I’m with you right? When all is said and done, I’m going to make sure your star rises. Don't go forgetting who’s fighting for you.”

He left Ryan in the conference room. He may have just sealed his own fate, but maybe this way he'd tell the kind of stories he'd been dying to.