Ritual - Palm South University

The skyrise is right on the bay, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook Miami’s beaches and beautiful teal water. His floors are a polished white marble, and the exposed air ducts and concrete give it an industrial feel like a New York apartment, but with the elegance and heat of Florida. He’d hired an interior designer to bring his vision to life, which was to make the entire place feel like an art museum. And it’s not just the breathtaking art that decorates the walls. Each piece of furniture, each vase, each light fixture — every single aspect of the apartment is art.

And as soon as you walk in, you’re part of the show, too.

Tonight, with the soft glow of candles and the fireplace in the center wall where the sitting room is, you can’t even see the beaches or the water at all. Instead, it’s dark outside the windows, save for the few boats in the distance.

And Brandon is sitting on the couch in front of the fire, scotch in hand, his eyes watching the flames and one ankle crossed over his knee.

It’s Friday evening, so it doesn’t surprise me that he’s still in the same chocolate dress slacks and ice-blue button up that he wore at the office today. Even on casual Friday, the man always dressed to impress.

He was the boss, after all.

“Hey,” I say tentatively, setting my purse on the kitchen counter before I make my way over to him.

I seem to shake him out of a spell, and he looks up at me with glazed eyes, accepting the kiss I bend to press on his lips.

“Thanks for letting me come over,” I say, folding my hands in my lap once I’m seated next to him.

He nods, but otherwise doesn’t say a word, his eyes back on the flames of the fire. I can’t blame him for drinking and avoiding eye contact. After all, who responds well to the dreaded words…

We need to talk.

I sigh. “Brandon, something happened that I need you to know about. And it’s going to sound crazy, but you have to believe—”

“I already know.”

My mouth is still open, ready to recite the speech I’d practiced with Skyler all week — the one where I explain how Sophie had been quietly hitting on me, how she’d plotted out a way to get me alone, how she’d kissed me and made sure to get it on film. I was fully ready to get him prepared and on my side, ready to fight her attempt to take me down.

But those words are all stuck in my throat now, and confusion sweeps over me instead.

“What?”

“You and Sophie made out,” he said, taking a sip of his scotch and hissing through his teeth.

“Um…” I think I’m in shock. I think my heart might actually give out. “Well, that’s not exactly what happened, but—”

“It’s not?” Brandon challenges, his eyes finding mine. “Because I saw the video, and I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what happened.”

Confusion turns to defensiveness in my chest as his scowl deepens, and I frown right back. “Why do I feel under attack right now?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you kissed our intern? Maybe because you cheated on me? Maybe because you waited over a week and until I already knew to tell me about it?”

My jaw drops. “Okay, first of all, she kissed me. I did not kiss her. And I certainly didn’t cheat on you.”

“No? What is it called when you kiss someone who isn’t your boyfriend?”

I grind my teeth together, heart racing in my chest. “I didn’t kiss—”

“Goddamnit, Ashlei,” he yells, standing and slamming his glass onto the coffee table. What’s left of the amber liquid inside sloshes out onto the wood, and Brandon threads his hands over his head, pacing until he’s staring out the massive windows over the dark beach.

I just watch him, breath shallow, mind racing trying to catch up.

“I saw the video,” he says quietly, turning to face me as his hands slowly come down. “She might have made the move. She might have been the one to lean in. But let me tell you, I’ve been in that position — when a woman makes a move on me that’s unwanted. And what I do in those situations and what you did are vastly different. I pull away. I quickly tell them they are out of line. I remind them I’m happily taken, and that they need to respect my boundaries.”

“I did the same thing. I told her to stay away from me, I asked her what the hell she was doing.”

“After you kissed her and grabbed her blouse and moaned like your panties were fucking soaked.”

I blink, over and over, my mouth hanging open.

Brandon just shakes his head, turning back toward the window. “We don’t have anything to discuss. I took care of it.”