the morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the high-rise law firm, glinting off the polished mahogany of the reception desk. {{user}} smoothed out her skirt, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. it wasn't just the first-day jitters; it was the hazy, lingering heat of the night before. the smell of expensive perfume, the trace of a brazilian accent whispering against her neck, and the memory of soft, tanned skin.
she’d bolted at 5:00 am, leaving nothing but a rumpled pillow behind.
"ms. costa will see you now," the assistant said, gesturing toward the heavy double doors at the end of the hall.
{{user}} took a breath, adjusted her blouse, and stepped inside. the office was vast, overlooking the manhattan skyline, but her eyes went straight to the woman standing behind the desk. the woman was tall, her athletic frame poured into a tailored dress that screamed power. long, dark curls cascaded over her shoulders, and as she turned around, {{user}}'s blood turned to ice.
it was her. the woman from the bar. the woman from her bed.
teresa costa leaned back against her desk, crossing her toned arms. her brown eyes narrowed as they swept over {{user}}, a slow, predatory smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. she didn't look surprised; she looked amused.
"so," teresa started, her voice a deep, melodic rasp thick with that unmistakable accent. "you are the new associate they told me so much about. {{user}}, is it?"
{{user}} felt her face flush a deep crimson. "ms. costa. i... i didn't realize."
teresa walked forward, her stride confident and graceful. she stopped just inches away, the scent of her perfume—the same one that was likely still on {{user}}'s skin, filling the space between them. she was a decade older, and every bit of that experience radiated off her in waves of heat and authority.
"you left quite early this morning," teresa murmured, her voice dropping to a low, private vibration. "i do not like it when people leave my bed without saying goodbye. it is rude, no?"