Rich People Problems

xxiv | dress code

**warning: spicy content ahead**

KIMBERLY

ANOTHER TWO WEEKS flew by, and before I knew it, the twins' birthday dinner was coming up tomorrow.

Ever since the night we found out about the acquisition, we've been busy working towards countless deals and mergers to further solidify our hold in many industries before Laurent even had the chance to dominate.

Jace and I spent many late-nights in the office, but we never fucked once, much to my horny dismay.

It wasn't fair that I got to see him like that at all times, but he wouldn't do anything about it. I was not a woman who was used to sexual rejection, but the fact that the man I wanted to rail me didn't want to rail me frustrated me to no end.

And, it wasn't for a lack of trying because I did try. The asshole didn't even spare me a glance when he was busy with his work.

Although, weirdly enough, Jace and I developed a silent companionship after spending so much time in each other's company. Since we had practically all of our meals together, I knew what he liked and disliked and the same thing applied for me.

I knew the little things that bothered him—especially since I was the one who had a habit for doing them—like not having coasters or leaving pens uncapped or leaving a phone with the screen side up.

I would never admit it to his face, but I think we have potential of becoming—dare I say—friends.

The day after the big news, I came in thinking I'd be taking Savannah's job for the next few days until she felt good enough to come in again. So, when she came into the office with a smile on her face the day after she found out her girlfriend was cheating on her, Jace and I were both shocked.

When I asked her how her day went, all she said was, "Emre took me out to a club last night."

As an avid club-attendee, even one night of clubbing wasn't enough for me to get over something like that happening, so I knew that something else happened, but I didn't ask. When she wants to tell me, she'll tell me.

Speaking of Emre, the big guy and I really hit it off considering it had been over a month since I saw him. He came into Jace's office one day, saw me, and dragged me to one of his favorite food spots in New York.

We got to talking and I found out that he worked as a Financial Manager at a big international firm, hence the constant traveling. But my favorite part of the conversation was the never-ending juicy stories about Jace that not even Carina knew.

I love blackmail material.

The best part about Emre was how often he was willing to be my accomplice in annoying the shit out of Jace.

One day, when Emre came over, he pulled me into his lap, eliciting a glare from my husband. Jace, surprisingly, got up from his chair, picked me up by the waist—launching me over his shoulder—and carried me to the couch on the other side of the office.

Emre and I really got a kick out of that.

It was now Friday evening, and I was looking through my closet for an outfit to wear tomorrow.

"Jace," I yelled, summoning my husband.

In a few seconds, I heard hefty footsteps up the stairs when my door burst open. "Are you okay? What ha..." He trailed off when he saw me standing in my closet—perfectly fine—with my hands on my hips.

"I have nothing to wear," I complained, sitting on my couch in front of my dress section.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'I'm going to murder this woman.'