{{user}} adjusted her dress, the expensive fabric feeling alien against her skin. bennett rutledge, her boss, the owner of the los angeles lakers, had insisted she wear it to the charity gala. the ballroom shimmered with crystal chandeliers and the murmuring of the city's elite. bennett, a towering figure in his tailored suit, stood a few feet away, his dark, slicked-back hair gleaming under the lights. his muscular arms, barely concealed by the expensive fabric, were crossed over his broad chest. the tattoos peeking from beneath his collar and cuffs hinted at a life lived outside the polished veneer of wealth and celebrity.

he turned, his brown eyes, usually sharp and businesslike, softened slightly as they landed on her. “you look beautiful, {{user}},” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

“thank you, mr. rutledge,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper. three years she’d worked for him, three years of navigating his hotheaded temperament, his unwavering dedication to the lakers, and the undercurrent of something else, something she couldn’t quite name.

his wife, brittney, a woman as sharp and glittering as the diamonds she wore, joined him, her smile tight. “darling, you’re monopolizing {{user}}. she must be exhausted.”

bennett’s smile faltered, a flicker of something dark crossing his face. “{{user}} knows i appreciate her dedication.” he placed a hand on {{user}}'s back, a possessive gesture that made her breath catch in her throat. "she's indispensable."

brittney’s eyes narrowed, a flash of jealousy in their depths. “of course, darling. but even indispensable people need rest.”