Alexander

My head felt like someone had used it as a piñata at a particularly aggressive children’s party. I groaned, rolling over in bed to escape the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Bad move. The room spun like a carnival ride.

“Good morning, Mr. Knight.” Dr. Peterson’s voice cut through my fog. “How’s the head?”

I cracked one eye open. “What are you doing in my bedroom?”

“Miss Harper called me last night. Found you in quite a state.”

Fragments of last night floated through my mind like confetti in a windstorm. The business event. That insufferable board member droning on about golf. The sweating, the walls closing in…

“What exactly happened?” I pressed my palms against my temples.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Dr. Peterson pulled out his penlight. “Follow the light, please.”

I batted his hand away. “Skip the doctor routine. Just give me something for this headache.”

“Already ahead of you.” He placed two pills and a glass of water on my nightstand.

I swallowed the pills in one gulp, grimacing at the metallic taste in my mouth. “Thanks, Doc.”

“We need to discuss what happened.” Dr. Peterson settled into the armchair by my bed, his expression serious. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

I closed my eyes, trying to piece together the fragments. “The Morrison merger celebration. Everyone packed into that stuffy ballroom at the Plaza.” My collar had felt too tight, the air too thick. “I couldn’t breathe. Needed to get out.”

“And then?”

“I came back here. Everything after that’s…” I waved my hand vaguely.

“Miss Harper found you in quite a state. She made the right call contacting me.”

“Madison? Why would she-”

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and scrolled through my messages. There it was, sent to Madison: ‘325 Park Avenue, Penthouse. Come now.’

I dropped the phone like it had burned me. “I meant to text you.”

“Well, you didn’t. And this situation is serious. Your symptoms, combined with your state when I arrived… Someone may have slipped something into your drink.”

The room suddenly felt colder. “What?”

“The disorientation, memory loss, elevated heart rate – classic signs. We need to investigate who had access to your drinks last night.”

I rubbed my face, mind racing through faces at the party. The bartender. That over-friendly investor. The new board member who’d cornered me about his golf handicap.

“This isn’t a joke. If someone’s targeting you-”

“I know, I know.” My head throbbed. “I’ll have security pull the footage and check the guest list.”

“Good. And no more drinking at public events until we sort this out.” He stood, gathering his bag. “I’ve cleared your morning schedule. Rest. I’ll check back this afternoon.”

As the door shut behind him, I stared at my phone and that message to Madison. What had she walked into last night? And how the hell was I going to face her at the office?

I showered, trying to wash away the fog in my brain. The hot water helped, but fragments of last night kept surfacing – soft moans, vanilla perfume, the taste of cherry lip gloss…

The next morning, I strode into the office like any other day. My head still throbbed, but at least I could think straight.

Madison sat at her desk. Her posture was stiffer than usual. When she noticed me, she quickly looked down, avoiding eye contact.

“Good morning, Miss Harper.”

She glanced up briefly. “Good morning, Mr. Knight.”

I paused, waiting for the usual small talk or a rundown of my schedule. Instead, she focused intently on her screen, tapping away as if her life depended on it.

“Everything alright?” I tried to keep my tone light.

“Yes, just catching up on some work.” Her voice was clipped, professional to a fault.

“Alright then.” I turned and headed into my office.

Once inside, I closed the door behind me and sank into my chair. The events of that night were a hazy blur – but seeing Madison triggered something. Vivid memories surged forward like an unstoppable tide.

I remembered her skin’s softness and how her breath hitched when I kissed her neck. Her body had felt perfect under my hands, her breasts heavy and warm as I cupped them, teasing her nipples with my fingers until they hardened into stiff peaks.

Fragments of our encounter flickered in my mind like an erratic film reel: her gasp when I pressed her against the wall, her lips’ sweet taste with a hint of cherry, and how she clung to me as if I were her lifeline.

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