When your dad’s best friend is teaching you to kiss, and says, “I can’t breathe without you.”
After a little solo dance party mistake leaves me with a black eye, I tell everyone at work that I tripped on the stairs.
Then my gorgeous, silver fox boss who I thought I was invisible to, walks in and snarls, “No more dancing on tables, Miss Matthews.”
And I go still. Because the only way he could know that was if he could see what I was doing in my apartment.
Mr Blackwood is twice my age. He’s my dad’s best friend. And he’s watching me. He’s got cameras.
He knows all my secrets.
I need to tempt him. Make him snap.
So I go to his office, and beg him to “teach me”.
