Page 75 of What Comes Around

Dessert arrived soon after, a dark chocolate mousse with raspberry coulis. The investors looked relaxed now, satisfied with the evening and clearly pleased with how the discussion had gone.

Knox leaned slightly toward me, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

“You handled their questions well.”

I lifted my spoon, took a slow bite of the mousse, and said quietly, “I told you I knew the numbers.”

“You did,” he said.

The conversation around the table drifted between business and lighter topics. I answered when spoken to and smiled when appropriate, letting the rhythm of the evening carry me along.

Under the table, my heel brushed his leg.

At first it was an accident, the narrow space beneath the table and the long slit of my dress working against me. I felt the firm line of his suit trousers against the top of my foot and pulled back immediately.

Knox didn’t react.

Didn’t move.

The wine left me warmer than usual, the sharp edges of the evening softening just enough to make the moment feel reckless instead of dangerous.

So I did it again.

Slower this time.

The smooth fabric of his trousers met my toes as I traced a faint line along his calf.

His knee tensed. I felt it.

He shifted slightly in his chair but didn’t look at me. His hand tightened around the stem of his glass as he kept his attention on the man speaking across the table, nodding once at something about regional expansion.

I took a sip of wine and tried not to smile.

My foot moved a little higher, barely there, the kind of contact that could still be denied if necessary. His leg went rigid beneath the table, but he didn’t pull away.

“Ashley,” one of the investors said, “what would be your biggest risk factor in the first year?”

I answered without missing a beat. “Staff loyalty. The model assumes high retention among VIP hosts. If that slips, the numbers shift.”

Knox exhaled slowly through his nose.

My foot moved again.

This time he caught me.

His hand closed around my ankle beneath the table. He lifted my leg slightly, guiding it until my heel rested against the inside of his knee.

His thumb brushed once along my bare skin, just above the strap of my heel. Slow. Deliberate.

Then he released me.

My foot settled back on the floor as if nothing had happened.

Knox leaned slightly closer, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.”

I lifted my glass to my lips and met his gaze calmly, as though nothing at all had happened.