To say that everyone was happy about the announcement of their engagement was a gross exaggeration, but, to be honest, Tori had expected - and dreaded - more enthusiasm from one person in particular.

Bryant had convinced her that eloping and hiding their upcoming change of marital status until the end of time was a little childish, so, at long length, she resolved to tell her mother.

“Bryant Parker,” Sandra mused. “Well, he’s certainly pretty enough to look at, so there’s that. He’ll do, I suppose. But you’re gonna have to make some effort if you want to keep his attention, dear. Men like him are always chasing the next pretty skirt. It’s rather impressive that you managed to get a ring at all.”

She didn’t bother to point out that Bryant hadn’t bought her a ring. They were getting infinity tattoos around their fingers, instead.

“I suppose you told him you’d keep your legs closed unless he agrees, hm?”

Tori had put her on speaker the whole time, because she was pretty sure that if she’d just repeated that bullshit, Bryant wouldn’t have believed a word of it.

Once he’d managed to overcome the shock, Bryant shouted down the phone, “No, Mrs. Brown, that’s very 1979. Tori had her legs wide open the first night. That’s how it’s done nowadays.”

Which was one of the many reasons why she’d said yes, when he’d prematurely, unexpectedly proposed, although it probably certified them both as insane.

Her grandmother made up for it, because when Tori took Bryant to see her at the care home, she yelled, hugged them both, and promised to bake pie.

Work, of course, was another kettle of fish.

Everyone offered their congratulations, but Tori heard her name whispered each time she entered the break room for two weeks, nonstop. Eventually, someone put a stop to it.

“Right, while Jana’s off, everyone on her team will be reporting to Tori,” Bryant had said, which was protocol; sure, he could have picked another team member, but he’d chosen her knowing she could deal with the extra work.

Someone snorted. She wasn’t sure who, as it had come from behind her back. Bryant’s eyes snapped to the area where the sound had come from and he glared, but he visibly hadn’t seen anything either. Not that they would have done anything; they’d already talked about it, and they’d resolved against canning the idiots who made a fuss about their engagement.

“Oh, enough, for Christ’s sake,” someone snapped.

It wasn’t Bryant; it wasn’t even Lexi. They all turned to Langdon, who was staring in Vanessa’s direction.

“In order to avoid making this work environment more toxic than it already is, I suggest you fucking do your research about the company you work for, and quick. You might then notice that twenty percent of it belonged to the late William Brown and has been transferred to a Victoria Brown upon his demise. So, the girl you think is fucking her way to the top owns Croft Advertising. And could have quite easily fired all of your asses if she so wished. Just like she could have grabbed a cushy job without doing the legwork like the rest of us. But she has. Think about that tonight, and see if you manage to sleep for being class-A jerks.”

Tori blinked, taken aback. It wasn’t like she’d really hidden the fact that she was part owner of the business; she’d assumed most people knew that, actually. But her colleague’s little speech made everyone look pretty damn petty and, over the next few days, she received an avalanche of half-assed apologies.

She accepted them graciously, because they generally came accompanied with homemade pumpkin pie. Someone had spilled the beans and made it known that it was her Achilles’ heel.

She and Bryant didn’t visit The Tower as much as some might think; once they’d moved to that perfect house with the naked brick wall, they went there perhaps once a month. Playing at home was just as much fun, to her, at least. Bryant was another story; he really loved it around other people, she could tell. He’d confessed to being one to show, and she saw it in everything he did, in every dress he bought her for those evenings.

Tori bit her lip. He was so damn patient, understanding, and caring with her, she was going to have to do something about meeting his needs someday soon.

“Hey,” she greeted Lexi, who was chatting away with Lillie.

When the receptionist wasn’t working, she hung out at The Tower sometimes, and it was evident that she and Lexi had hit it off. Lillie was a married Dom, whose husband was also a Dom; they had a petite, gorgeous redheaded Sub at home, though.

Tori couldn’t bring herself to ask how that worked.

“You see the guy Bryant is speaking to?” she discreetly tilted her head towards her fiancé.

He stood in a corner, standing next to a tanned Adonis who looked like he’d stepped out of a J Crew catalogue.

“That’s Maverick. Like, Maverick King. He said he’d just come back from an extended stay in Rome. They’re speaking business, so I left them to it, but isn’t he pretty to look at?”

So, she totally wasn’t being all that subtle. For the last few weeks, she’d pointed out various acquaintances of Bryant’s who seemed okay, to see if any of them caught Lexi’s attention; all in vain, so far.

Oh, well. At least she’d tried.

Bryant came back to her a few minutes later; his friend had disappeared somewhere.

“So, tell me if you have something against it, but Mav said one of his companies is looking for a new marketing campaign. It’s in fashion, and if we get the job, we’ll need to take some trips to Europe, though.”

“Like that’s a deterrent. I’d love to put something together for him,” she replied, not knowing that her response was going to start a whole new story.