Zaira was happy to see her dad back after his absence to take care of some business in Italy. What she was not happy with was having to drag herself into yet another impromptu meeting called by him. Not only did he insist that she be there, he also arranged for all department heads to be there too. What it meant was that Trent Stone would be in attendance as well.

She made sure to sit way on the other end of the table from him, but that turned out to be a bad idea. With him at one end of the long conference room table and her on the other end, it wasn’t easy to keep her eyes off of him. A couple of times, they’d look up at the same time, catching each other staring.

Zaira had gotten over most of her animosity toward Trent even though it had taken a couple days after the incident. She should have known that Trent came with baggage with his magical magnet dick. Just thinking about it sent her blood past the boiling point again.

She reached for the bottled water on the table in front of her and took a long swig. The next time she caught Trent staring at her, she cut her eyes at him. Of course, he wore a poker face that no man or animal could decode.

Her cell phone screen lit up on the screen in front of her. The silent mode didn’t distract anyone’s attention except the guy sitting right next to her, who was also the head of Svelte’s IT department. He was also nosey as hell.

Zaira picked up the phone to read it.

Trent: Your hair looks beautiful that way.

Her face became flustered and she looked up quickly to see him fumbling with his iPhone on the table.

She might as well just put everything out on the table for him even though he failed to do that with her. She texted him right back.

Zaira: I’m going out to dinner tonight with my Dad and Phil, from the graduate school he mentors at.

His response came immediately.

Trent: Let’s hope Phil doesn’t get any ideas about being with you.

Before she could object or respond, her Dad called for the meeting to begin. His secretary, Ann, adjusted the settings on the projector as he spoke about the items on the agenda. After his summary on a meeting he had with his Italian investors, Zaira sort of drifted off. She perked up at the mention of certain keywords that concerned her, but after taking another look at the agenda, she realized that the accounting and finance portion of the session was further down on the agenda.

“So there are three main things I want us to accomplish between now and December of this year…” her dad continued, clicking from one screen to the next as he spoke.

Not only did Zaira’s mind wander, but her eyes wandered as well.

Hell in a hand-basket! Why did Trent Stone have to be so goddamned fine? He was engrossed in her dad’s presentation, but the dark, serious expression on his face would’ve had any woman swooning. Somehow, he must have known about the meeting because he was groomed well. No five o’ clock shadow on his face. His hairline was groomed. His dark mane was lightly slicked back, and he was dressed to the nines in business attire.

Her gaze dropped to his big hands just as he began to write something on his notepad. Suddenly she got a flash of his car-greased palms gripping her ass as he pounded into her pussy. She grabbed her bottle from the table and chugged down some more water.

Zaira turned her chair slightly to face the presentation, so she wouldn’t be tempted to take another peek at the man whom she both loved and hated. It was a curse to feel both ways at the same time. She was certain of that.

“Now, I have a short video clip to play from Mr. Barrett, one of our investors. He wished he could have been here today, but his flight got mixed up at the last minute,” her Dad informed them.

Ann fiddled with the laptop once again as he spoke.

“He’ll meet with each of you individually sometime next week.”

The last time Mr. Barrett spoke at a Svelte meeting, she was utterly bored. The man was nice and pleasant to his core, but he always took ten minutes to say what could have taken two minutes.

When the video started playing, the screen was black but there were a few audible noises in the background. The voice coming from the speakers didn’t belong to a man. It was a woman speaking.

“Ann, is this the right clip?” Dad asked.

“Yeah, you handed me the diskette this morning to include with the presentation.” Ann rose and walked back over to the laptop. “There must be something wr—.”

When the movie clip came into view, Zaira almost chocked on her own breath. It was her! In the white dress giving Trent oral sex as he sat in his big leather chair. The angle wasn’t quite right, but sure enough her head bobbed up and down in his lap.

There was a chorus and gasps and guffaws across the conference room table.

Was she dreaming this? Imagining it? Her eyes spread wide, nearly popping from the sockets. She was so stunned that she couldn't even breathe. If she passed out from lack of oxygen, she'd be better off.

Obviously she was slipped something in her water, because she could not believe that this was a video of her and Trent exchanging sexual favors.

The images were fuzzy and cloudy as if the clip was taken from somewhere far away, but there was no mistaking that it was Trent’s office. The video advanced and switched to the next clip and she could be seen on top of Trent’s desk with her legs spread wide and his head between it. There was no audio on this one and for once she was glad she’d held her cries of pleasures.

Time stopped. She stopped breathing. She stopped moving. It was possible that she was dreaming, but no…

She was actually dying from embarrassment. What and who had done this to them? Did Trent film her without her knowledge?

Turning swiftly, her eyes met Trent’s equally horrified gaze. His face had gone deathly pale which was odd given his tanned complexion. It looked like he’d seen an alien from outer space the way his mouth was parted in shock. When she looked at him in question, he shook his head.

Ann gasped. “Ah….Mr. Wright…sir?” Ann looked just a embarrassed as Zaira felt. The IT head guy beside her even sported a beet red face with wide eyes.

“Stop it! Stop the clip.” Her dad rose from his chair with veins popping up on his face and neck.

The present hit Zaira like a freight train and she jumped up from her seat and rushed out of the conference room. The furthest she could make it before she burst into tears was the ladies room. Her breath came in pants as she heaved dry air. Resting her back against the bathroom stall, she clutched at her chest.

There was a mix of feelings burdening her heart. Pain. Humiliation. Betrayal. Hate. Hurt.

She wanted to jump in the toilet, flush it down, and swim away.

“Zaira?” Patrice, the receptionist, walked into the restroom and called out to her. “Zaira, are you in here?”

“Patrice, not right now. I can’t.” Her voice was strained.

“I saw what happened. I know you want to get out of here. Let me walk you down to your car.”

Zaira slowly came out of the stall. “Who did this? Who taped us?”

Patrice shook her head. “I don’t know. The video must have gotten swapped somehow. Loyd said it was in his inbox when he arrived this morning. He's called security to gain access to the door logs.”

When they exited the bathroom, Marcus was talking to Trent on the other side of the door. They turned their attention to Zaira and paused their talking.

Trent left Marcus’s side and fell in step beside Zaira and Patrice.

“I am so sorry. I’ll find out who taped us like that,” he said.

“Stay out of it, Trent. Please. I warned you about this.”

It was her fault. Why did she ever insist they have sex in his office?

“Zaira, stop, please…for once. I’m tired of acting like children.” Trent stopped in front of them.

At this point, Zaira was so confused, she would have done anything to hear Trent say that none of this had ever happened and that she’d never seen him and Eve at his condo and they could go on with their lives. One part of her understood that wasn’t going to happen, but another part still held onto hope.

She paused. “What is it, Trent? These past few days have been miserable for me.”

“I want to make it right for you.” He took her forearm gently. “That was our private moment together. No one should have encroached on that, but someone did. I’m not fucking embarrassed about it? You know why?”

She shook her head.

“I love you. I would make love to you and declare my love for you one million times over and over again in front of God and in front of the world. You’re my woman. Do you understand?”

Trent looked both troubled and angry as he bit into his lips, but she understood fully well. She knew him enough to know that he wasn’t lying. His words were truth and she could see it in his eyes and in his demeanor.

Zaira met his gaze, her vision cloudy with tears. “Yes, I understand.”

Her eyes shifted behind him to her dad who stood off to the side. Loyd Wright looked as though he was waiting for his chance to argue. He was impatient. His arms were crossed over his chest. She couldn’t even hold her father’s gaze. She avoided it. She knew that man enough to know that he was pissed.

“I’ll call you later, if that’s okay with you,” Trent said. “I have some business to take care of with your father.”

She nodded just as Patrice pressed her hand to the small of her back and urged her to an open elevator cab.

Only when Zaira was in the privacy of her car did she let go.

This wasn’t all about her. She’d contributed equally. No one told her to spread her leg in a public place for Trent—in his office of all places. Now she would have to face the consequences and so would he.

She had done what she told him she would never do: Come between him and his job at Svelte.