At No Time || Bruno Mars

53

Peter stepped into the SoulWork building, the energy alive as it usually was on a Wednesday, business already shuffling through the hours of the morning.

He went to the front desk where Amanda was sitting, typing away on her computer. When she saw Peter, her red fingernails stopped clicking at the keyboard and she rolled her eyes with a vexed exhale.

"Here," she grumbled as she roughly handed him a gold envelope. "It's just a reminder that you have to attend that "rich people" banquet tonight." She rolled her eyes once more as he took the auric message from her.

Peter smirked, unsure of her hostility. "What's all this?" He motioned toward her disposition with the envelope. "Why are you mad at me?"

She leaned forward and scoffed low enough to evade any prying ears, "Tell your stupid friends not to promise dinner dates when they don't intend to because they're engaged!"

Perplexed, Peter was about to ask what on Earth she was talking about, but then remembered what Roger had done to get into his office the week before. Amanda must have figured it out and was taking out her frustrations on him since he was closest thing to Roger. Peter could not blame the girl—Roger was never the best ladies' man; he was still trying to figure out how he had nabbed Elle Marie.

Stifling laughter, Peter responded, "Sorry about that. Roger shouldn't've said that to you. What can I do to make it up to you?"

Amanda's red mouth twisted as she gazed at him, thoughtful. She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and leaned forward, her cleavage becoming visible through the undone button of her blouse. "Maybe if I get a little more of what you gave me last time, I'll think about forgiving him."

Peter had a troublesome knack of getting too risque at holiday parties. Mixed with the views of beautiful women and booze, his libido would flare up, and he would seek out a willing participant. Before Amanda had known about Roger, Peter knew she had her eye on him, and it was incredibly easy to put his hand on the small of her back and guide her through the crowd of house guests into a back a backroom where they sweated out all the alcohol they consumed.

On any other day, Peter would have obliged, but for some inexplicable reason, he did not want to. "How about I get you an invite to the banquet instead?" he offered, which evoked a suggestive shrug from Amanda. If they fucked at a party once, there was a chance it could happen again. "I'll make sure your name is on the list. It starts at eight."

"Okay, I'll see you there," she simpered and Peter made his way to his office.

Peter exhaled loudly as he set his briefcase a top of his desk, the "hump day" of the week meaning very little as he had been slammed with work from the moment he arrived on Monday and surely would not be finished with it by Friday.

He switched on one of his two computers, overwhelmed with e-mails he still had to return and files he had to brief before the several meetings throughout the week. A message that stood out was one from the Bennett-Price team, no doubt doing their best to get him to join. He ignored it, figuring it could wait to be scrutinized later.

Hours passed as he returned phone calls and spoke with company advisers, attempted to care about whatever Seymour had invaded his office to talk with him about, and discussing with Stacie on ways to keep hackers from infiltrating SoulWork databases to steal information. An hour after noon, he took a much-needed break, scrolling through his personal phone, even that device filled with messages he had to get back to. However, he chose not to attend to those, and absentmindedly chose a number worthy of his leisure.

"Hello?" Trystan's voice came through the other line, sounding much smoother than the last time they had spoken.

"Hey, Trystan; is this a bad time?"