The lobby is over-warm, coats steaming as people rush in from the snow. She’s dragging her suitcase, muttering at the slush on her boots, when his voice cuts through the crowd. He’s smirking as he drawls, “Didn’t think you’d actually show. Guess miracles do happen.” She stiffens instantly. Of all people. He’s leaning against the check-in desk, broad-shouldered in a tailored coat, scarf looped casually around his neck, loo...

The email subject line glowed like forbidden fruit on Hannah’s meticulously organized screen: "The Last Resort – Unlimited Love, Unlimited Healing." She leaned back in her executive throne, Italian leather, because of course, and crossed her legs, the slit in her pencil skirt revealing a suggestive sliver of thigh. At 46, Hannah was a woman who had mastered the art of being unfairly attractive. High cheekbones, a collarbo...

The music in the VIP room didn’t throb like it did outside. It pulsed, like a heartbeat that gave life to the night. Inside, about twenty-five people moved through the haze of soft light and curated luxury. They were Miami’s real trendsetters. Not the ones chasing clout through Instagram reels. These were the ones who didn’t need to be followed to be known. They were famous for being famous, infamous for knowing exactly w...

You really hurt my feelings, you know. That first time you invited me over to your mom’s house. It was Christmas time. Real Christmas time, not the endless, unnatural jingle hell that you and I live in every day, working for Winter Wonderland. You’d think after three years of shoveling reindeer shit to a steady soundtrack of Bing Crosby and Mariah Carey, I’d be relieved to go home to an empty apartment and a dinner of fuc...

My feet drag across carpet as I slump into my apartment and shut the door behind me. The lights fizz like ginger ale when I flick the switch, and the crackling feeling they produce sends a delicious shiver up my spine. The sensation of electricity nearly distracts me from the exhaustion setting in, but not quite. The kitchen sink is filled with dishes. I only wash one bowl for tonight, leaving the rest to sit another day....

"Sloane." My boss made my name sound like a reprimand. I looked up from my desk, already dreading his next words. "I need you to work late this evening." "Sir, I can't tonight," I protested. "Sure you can." He placed a folder before me, tapping it with his fingertip for emphasis. "But it's Friday!" He paused in the middle of putting on his suit coat. "So?" "So..." I tried to think of a convincing excuse. "I have a date, a...

I stare at the commit message: Reverted Jane's changes. Done by Mark, timestamped from the evening before. Mark has done some things that drive me crazy, but this takes the cake. I see him across the office, standing around laughing with some people, so I leave my desk and interrupt the conversation, “Hey Mark, could I talk to you for a sec?” He responds with an offhand, “Sure.” I try to rein in my anger as I lead the way...