Victoria opened her eyes, turning to look at him directly. "You're wasted as an assistant, you know."
The statement hung between them in the dark car. James wasn't sure how to respond. Was this Victoria's way of acknowledging Winters's job offer? A prelude to promoting him herself? Or simply an observation with no intended action behind it?
"I'm where I choose to be," he said finally.
Victoria studied him for a long moment. "For now."
The car slowed as they approached her building—a luxury high-rise overlooking the park. James expected her to gather her things and exit with her usual brisk efficiency. Instead, she remained seated, still watching him with an uncharacteristically thoughtful expression.
"What exactly did Winters promise you? VP of Strategic Planning, wasn't it?"
So she had overheard at the restaurant. "Something like that."
"You'd be good at it." Victoria's voice was matter-of-fact. "You have the analytical skills and you're surprisingly good with clients for someone who spends most of his time behind a desk."
"Was that a compliment or an insult?"
A hint of a smile touched her lips. "An observation."
The car stopped in front of her building. Neither moved.
"Victoria," James said carefully, "are you concerned about my meeting with Winters tomorrow?"
She picked up her shoes, holding them by the straps with one finger. "Professionally or personally?"
The question was unexpectedly direct. "Either. Both."
"Professionally, I'd prefer not to train a new assistant while launching the Petrov partnership and managing the Anderson proposal with Winters's company." She gathered her purse, still not moving to exit the car. "Personally... I find it irritating that Chad thinks he can simply take what's mine whenever he wants."
There it was again—that possessive framing that both frustrated and intrigued James. Was he an asset to her, a person, or something in between?
"I'm not yours," he said quietly. "I work for you. There's a difference."
Victoria's gaze sharpened. "Is there? When was the last time you had dinner with friends? Took a long vacation? Dated someone?" She didn't wait for his answer. "You've structured your entire life around this job—around me—for three years. That creates a relationship that goes beyond employment, James, whether you acknowledge it or not."
The observation was uncomfortably accurate. His life had gradually reoriented around Victoria's needs and schedule, to the point where his friends had stopped inviting him to events because they knew he'd cancel if Victoria called. His dating life was basically nonexistent precisely because of his unavailability and preoccupation with work.
"That doesn't make me yours," he insisted, unsure why this point felt so important to defend.
"No," Victoria agreed, surprising him. "But it does make you mine to lose."
With that enigmatic statement, she finally moved to exit the car. The doorman rushed forward to open her door, and she slipped her shoes back on before stepping onto the sidewalk.
"The car will take you home," she said, her professional mask firmly back in place. "Review the notes from tonight and send me the key points before noon tomorrow."
"Of course."
"And James?" She leaned down slightly to meet his eyes through the open door. "Whatever Winters offers you tomorrow, remember that he's buying what he thinks I value—not necessarily what you're worth."
Before he could respond, she straightened and walked toward her building entrance, her posture perfect, her stride confident despite the heels she'd been desperate to remove minutes earlier. The doorman nodded respectfully as she passed, and then she was gone, leaving James alone in the back of the car with her words echoing in his mind.
Mine to lose.
Not a possession, but not simply an employee either. Something more complicated—a relationship she valued enough to acknowledge, however obliquely. Coming from Victoria Sharp, that was practically a declaration of emotional attachment.
As the car pulled away from the curb, James found himself replaying the evening—not the successful business dinner or the secured Petrov contract, but the rare moments of honesty in the darkened car afterward. Victoria admitting he was wasted as an assistant. Victoria acknowledging that their relationship transcended normal professional boundaries.
His phone buzzed with a text from Winters: Looking forward to our lunch tomorrow. I have some ideas I think will interest you greatly.
James slipped the phone back into his pocket without responding. Tomorrow he would have lunch with Chad Winters and hear his offer. He would wear the gray suit with the blue threading as Victoria had suggested, both of them knowing full well it was a form of loyalty signaling—showing up to meet her rival while still dressed in accordance with her preferences.
Victoria Sharp might be cold, demanding, and often impossible to please, but she was also brilliant, perceptive, and occasionally, unexpectedly human. Tonight she had admitted, in her way, that she valued him beyond his utility as an assistant. Coming from Victoria, that was remarkable.
Chad Winters would have to offer something truly extraordinary to compete with the rare gift of Victoria Sharp's honesty.
_____________________________
The Lunch.
The car Chad Winters had sent was excessive—a black Town Car with leather seats that probably cost more than James's monthly salary. As they glided through downtown traffic toward the restaurant, James found himself wondering if the ostentation was intentional. A not-so-subtle reminder of the lifestyle that came with executive positions at companies that were not Sharp Innovations.
Le Bernardin was the kind of restaurant where Victoria would dine with major clients, all white tablecloths and hushed conversations over hundred-dollar entrees. James had made reservations here for her countless times but had never actually eaten there himself. The maître d' recognized Winters immediately, leading them to a prime table with a view of the city skyline.
"James, thank you for making time," Chad said as they settled into their seats. Looking closer, he appeared much younger than James had initially thought—and at thirty-two, with the kind of confident smile that suggested he'd never been told no about anything that mattered. "I hope the car wasn't too much. I know how crazy downtown traffic can be."
"It was fine, thank you." James accepted the leather-bound menu from the server, not surprised at the prices. "This is quite a place."
"I wanted to make a good impression." Chad's smile widened. "Though I suspect Victoria has you dining at places like this regularly."
The comment was casual, but James caught the fishing expedition. "Occasionally. Usually when she's entertaining clients."
"Right, of course. You accompany her to client dinners." Chad nodded thoughtfully. "That must give you incredible insight into the business. Most assistants don't get that kind of exposure to high-level strategy."
James chose his words carefully. "Ms. Sharp values having someone who understands the full picture."
"I'm sure she does. She's built quite a reputation." Chad paused as the server approached to take their drink orders. "Scotch, neat," he told the server, then looked at James expectantly.
"Just water, please."
Chad raised an eyebrow. "Come on, James. You are not driving. Live a little."
"I'm still on company time."
"Ah." Chad leaned back in his chair, studying James with new interest. "Even at lunch? That's dedication."
Or conditioning, James thought but didn't say. Three years of being constantly available to Victoria had blurred the lines between work hours and personal time until they barely existed.