I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Mark and Elliot since I met them. I was barely able to sleep. All night long, my thoughts were consumed by them.

Of Elliot, strong and silent, with his reticent smile and his dark eyes. And Mark, a bit hyper, but with that energetic, cool intensity, and the smile and laugh that he offers freely. I thought about both of them.

I couldn’t help myself. As much as I tossed and turned in my small apartment, flipping my pillow over a million times and punching it to keep it fluffy and trying to fall asleep on my side, on my back, I couldn’t stop thinking about them.

Their strength, their scents. The way I was in the backseat of their car with them. There was enough room for all of us to sit comfortably, but when Mark touched my knee, I was flooded with heat and want for him. But it wasn’t just for him alone.

I thought about kissing both of them, about having both of them guiding their hands over my curves slowly and softly, teasing me and making me wild.

The two men have invaded my mind.

And now I am going to have them in my office with me.

Two dangerously sexy men in close quarters with me again.

I quickly tidy up, imagining what their offices in the City must look like. They’re probably planning something really special for their new offices out here, and I am quite certain that their offices are big and glamorous and are bigger than just twelve measly square feet, and they probably have a nice view. As for me, I have no view at all. I think there used to be a window in here somewhere, but I must have covered it up with a filing cabinet because I can’t find it for the life of me.

I quickly take a stack of papers off the corner of my desk and divide it, shoving it into two drawers and then closing them up, though they won’t close properly because they are nearly overflowing.

It’s nearly time for the meeting, and as I check the time, I wonder whether they will be on time. Though I know arriving late is a tactic some people use to intimidate the people they are meeting. They think it makes them look like they have the upper-hand, the power in the situation. Be too late, though, and you don’t look serious enough.

I swallow thickly, my heart racing a million miles a minute, and fold my hands on the desk in front of me.

I am not committing to anything today. I am not making any decisions. I am not signing anything.

I know not to sign anything without having my attorney review it first. Hell, I don’t even have an attorney yet.

I am getting ahead of myself. Way ahead.

As I’m about to start worrying that they aren’t going to even show up, on top of just being nervous in general about the meeting, I hear a knock at the door.

Now would be a good time to have that assistant to escort them in and make it look like I’m an actual professional.

I walk over to the door and open it slowly, revealing Mark and Elliot on the other side, looking dashing as all hell.

“Welcome,” I say brightly, “and please come in. You’ll excuse the state of my office.”

I gesture into the room and they walk in together, each shaking my hand as they do.

When Elliot shakes my hand, he nods at me intently, peering down at me with those dangerous eyes, making me feel dizzy. When Mark does it, he pulls my hand between both of his and shakes it gently, sending a pulse through my body.

“I don’t think it’s so bad,” Elliot says, “I’m used to seeing offices that are…untidy.”

“Untidy is an understatement,” I say, “I’m really sorry. It’s just that the meeting kind of snuck up on me and I lost track of the date and I never really had a chance to clean up and organize.”

“No worries,” Mark says as the three of us settle into our chairs. “I’ve seen worse.”

“You should see his apartment,” Elliot says, “he has a person who comes every Friday night to clean up. And his office is a mess too. Papers everywhere. He needs an assistant to assist his assistant.”

“So you guys are close then, if you’ve been to each other’s apartments?” I ask.

I imagine them hitting the bars, staying out all night, sleeping with the most beautiful and sexy and perfect women in all of New York.

“Yes, we are pretty close,” Mark says, his eyes dragging up and down my body. He catches my glance and I feel the air being sucked out of my lungs when he looks at me. “We do everything together.”

“When you work together, that happens. Late nights at the office turn into ordering in dinner, going out for a drink afterwards. It works for us. We started out together as interns and we just hit it off,” Elliot says.

My eyes flash over to his. So they do everything together, huh? I could have seen that myself. They share a car, they share a business, an office.

“I saw on your website that you both were interns together,” I say, crossing my legs under the desk. My dress pulls across my thighs. I have always been curvy, but I have put on a few extra pounds over the past couple of months. I guess it’s all the pizza and beer I’ve been eating. I don’t have much time to cook, and even if I did, I wouldn’t have the energy for it.

“That’s long in the past,” Mark says, “and not very interesting. What’s interesting is you, Scarlett.”

My mouth becomes dry and I feel my thighs clench together as he looks at me. The muscles in his broad chest flex as he opens a folder on his lap in front of him. I am am trying to focus the best I can, but I am desperately distracted. All I can think about it last when when he told me not to get screwed during the meeting. I knew it was a joke, but that little comment is stuck in my head.

“What about me?” I ask in a small voice. Elliot, the quiet one, takes me by surprise by licking his lips and looking at me with dark intensity, with bedroom eyes almost, his eyelids hooded in what I swear is desire.

“What made you say yes to us, Scarlett,” he asks.

“Well, I am going to be completely honest here. I don’t know if I’m putting myself at a strategic disadvantage by telling you this, but I am really in danger here. I am not underwater yet, I am still pulling in a profit month over month, but if this doesn’t turn around fast, I don’t know what I would do. I’ve been holding on as tight as I can, but I don’t think things are going to turn around, and if I don’t sell now, I’m afraid that I am going to have to just shut the place down. I took out a mortgage on the property about a year ago to just keep up with the costs of maintaining it. I thought it was just a bad season. Turns out it was just the tip of the iceberg.”

“What do you think changed,” Elliot asks softly.

“You know, I ask myself that all the time. I thought we would be okay. I thought kids don’t play outside anymore, they’re always cooped up inside, so this would be a good place for them. Kids, teens, adults, whoever. The elderly even, if they want. But then I realized people are cooped up inside because they are always on their gadgets. Then I said, oh, if they’re on their phones, they can come here to the bar and if everyone just wants to be on their phones that’s fine. Perfectly fine!”

“But even the bar scene is dying,” Mark says. “You used to go out to a bar if you wanted to hook up. Now you get on an app. Nothing’s face to face anymore.”

“Exactly,” I sigh.

“But people still want to do novel things,” Elliot says, “and I think that’s where we can help you.”

Mark takes the folder from his lap and opens it up in front of me.

“The modern consumer is sophisticated. Your place is good, but it isn’t updated. We were able to purchase and turn around a small arcade out in Bay Ridge. By actually emphasizing the nostalgia factor, we were able to get more customers in the door. Now, nostalgia costs money. So we were thinking of expanding your arcade by purchasing some more classic games, updating the bar so that you offer a little bit more high end options, and putting in a new sound system so that it actually feels like people are out at a club.”

I peruse the folder, stopping at a rather detailed plan they’ve prepared for the first three months of their acquisition, some artist’s digital renderings, and a budget for everything from napkins to advertising.

“This is a lot of money for marketing,” I say when I see the number, my eyes flying up to Mark and Elliot. “This is, like, more than I’ve ever spent. I mean, not in a quarter or a year. Like, cumulatively, over the alley’s entire lifespan.”

“We know,” Elliot says, leaning back in his chair, “but I think that’s what you need to drive this thing forward. And you said it yourself, you need someone to take over the reigns. Someone with capital.”

“Someone, or two guys. Two guys who are very interested. Scarlett,” Mark says, “we want you to think about this very seriously.”

I am blown away by their dedication to their work. It is clear that they have put a lot of effort and time into this meeting. Their presentation is tight, and they talk about the alley with so much ease and familiarity, it’s almost like they’re talking about it as though they’re already invested in it. I can see that they are emotionally invested at the very least.

“I will certainly think about it,” I say. “I would rather be in business with the two of you than anyone else.”

Mark shoots a look over to Elliot and then to me. Elliot nods.

“Scarlett, we’re taking you out to dinner tonight. Someplace nice. What you’re wearing is perfect. We will pick you up at eight.”

I swallow hard as the two men get up and shake my hand before leaving the room. I’m left sitting in my cramped office, dumbfounded, my mind spinning, because that did not sound like a formal invitation to a business dinner.

It sounded like an invitation for a date.

With both of them.

And the trouble is that I want it to be with both of them.