While The Boss is Away

Jenna jolted when her phone alarm cut through the quiet. She grabbed it, eyes widening at the time. Fuck. Work. Now. She scrambled to sit up, already planning excuses. Samantha's voice came from behind her, low and calm. "You're the boss. Take your time." Jenna nodded, swallowed the truth, and slipped into yesterday's blouse. By the time she pushed through the glass doors, Shyla was already waiting. She rounded on her the second their eyes met. Her voice cracked like a whip. "This is the last time," Shyla said. She tossed the folder on the desk. "Board meeting. Presentation. Stay until it's done." Jenna forced a weak smile. Shyla turned, heels snapping across the floor as if Jenna were already fired. Jenna called Samantha on lunch. Plans were dead. Samantha didn't hide the sting. "I was looking forward to it." Jenna promised to make it right, thumbed the phone dark, and dove back into slides. Mid-afternoon, a knock. The same voice that woke her this morning slipped through the door. Samantha, coat open, dress high, grinning. Jenna's throat went tight. She tried to steer her toward the elevator, but Samantha's hands were already under her skirt. "One taste. Then I'll go." Jenna glanced at the clock. They kissed, Jenna half-panicked, hips pinned to the edge of the conference table. The click of the lock broke them apart. Shyla stood frozen, takeaway bag dangling from her fingers. Samantha didn't flinch. "We're busy," she said. Then she saw the badge, realized the mistake, and her lips curved into something sharp. "Maybe we can work something out," she murmured, stepping in to claim Shyla's mouth. Shyla didn't pull away. The kiss deepened—slow, hungry, deliberate—until the folder on the table slid to the floor. Jenna exhaled, knees weak. Her job had just been bartered in a tangle of tongues and promises, and all three of them knew it would hold.