Mr. Sin: Book One of the Sin Series

Watching the clock on the wall tick around to 1:55 I have to stop myself from puking into my garbage can. With five minutes until my meeting with Vincent I need to get my shit together. There is no way out of this meeting that doesn’t end in my resigning or getting fired. I’ve dealt with intimidating clients in the past so it’s not like I can tell my boss I’m too scared to meet with him. That I am terrified at the idea of being alone in an office with Vincent. With the man who kept his identity a secret even after he obviously knew about our connection.

My phone beeps with a text.

Cheryl: Good luck in your meeting with Mr. Sin 😉 Let me know if you need help with any of the follow up.

Cheryl has not been able to shut up about how attractive Mr. Sin is. Just thinking about that stupid nickname has my anger swelling. Mr. Sin indeed. If Cheryl had any idea just how sinful he is, I bet she wouldn’t find this all so amusing.

With a dramatic sigh, I push out of my seat and head for the elevators. I may not want to do this, but I need to pull up my big girl undies and get it over with. Showing up late would just give Vincent more ammunition against me. Not only will I not give him anything to criticize me for, but I’m also going to blow him away with my creativity and dedication. I’m good at my job, damnit, and he’s going to see that.

With my renewed sense of purpose, I let determination steel my spine and I practice a few breathing exercises during the elevator ride up to the top floor. When I start to feel slightly lightheaded, I promise myself that I’ll start doing some of my old workout videos again.

The doors slide open on the executive floor, and I straighten my suit jacket.

Knowing I’d be facing Vincent today, I dressed in my best power suit. Charcoal grey tailored pants and a matching, fitted, one-button jacket over a blood red satin scoop neck top. My hair is pulled back into a low bun and I’m wearing my no-nonsense pointed-toe black heels. There is nothing soft or girlie about my outfit. My makeup is simple but deliberate, making my hazel eyes stand out. The only touch of femininity are my pearl stud earrings. They were my mother’s and have always given me strength.

“Sasha, perfect timing.”

Hearing my name, I turn to see Vincent’s assistant walking my way with a cup of coffee in hand.

I recognize him from the meeting last week. I’d guess he’s in his late 20’s. He’s tall, slender, blonde, and boy-next-door good looking.

“Hi, Brent. Nice to see you again.” I tell him genuinely.

I’m glad that I ran into him. I didn’t want to aimlessly wander the floor searching for Vincent’s office.

“Same to you. You look lovely today.” Brent says with a smile.

I fight the scowl that wants to take over my face. Lovely? I’m trying to look like a hardass. “Thanks.”

Brent tosses his head back and laughs. “You must be one of those people who are uncomfortable with compliments. Consider it noted.” He grins. “Though it won’t stop me from doling them out.”

I grin back. I like this guy more with each passing moment.

“Follow me. I believe Vincent should be off his call by now and ready for you.” I step up next to Brent as I let him lead the way. “Would you care for anything to drink? This coffee is for boss man, but I can grab another for you.”

“Oh, no thank you. I’ve probably over-caffeinated already.”

Brent chuckles. “I think I do that every day, and I still never learn.”

I finally look around and nearly trip over my own feet when I see what office he’s leading me to.

Of fucking course. Why didn’t I think about this sooner?

Brent must notice my hesitation, thinking it has to do with whom I’m meeting and not where, because he nudges my arm. “Don’t worry, he won’t bite.”

I try to laugh but it comes out as more of a choke. Apparently, Brent has never slept with Vincent, otherwise he’d know that the Devil does indeed bite.

Brent knocks against the door frame before stepping into the office. “Vincent, Sasha is here for your 2 o’clock.”

“Thanks, Brent. Send her in.”

I shove my swirling emotions down into a steel box, locking them away, as I step into the office where Vincent fucked me on what is apparently his own desk. Asshole.

Giving myself a moment, I take in the large office now that everything is moved in. The outer wall is made entirely of floor to ceiling windows, with a great view of downtown Minneapolis. Vincent’s desk is in the same place as it was before, at the front of the room, allowing Vincent a position of power. From experience I can say that the dark wood construction is well built. Facing his desk is a pair of upholstered visitor chairs. There’s also a couch and a coffee table at the back of the room.

I allow myself a brief moment to wonder why we had sex on the desk and not the couch before I guide myself towards one of the visitor chairs facing Vincent.

“Hold my calls, Brent. And close the door behind you.”

Vincent’s command is punctuated by the sound of his office door clicking shut.