Once changed and staring at herself in the fitting room mirror, a wave of horror passed over her.

The dress Kahdreg gave her was a dusky rose, very close to her hair color. A delicate black lace overlay, which began from the off-shoulder neckline, formed the illusion of an intricate bodice. The color of the dress faded to black midway down her skirt, enhancing the mermaid-style flare.

Worst of all, it fit her form extremely well. Which made the fact it was clinging to the curves of her body until about her knee, at which point it flared out, all the worse. Did Kahdreg just get lucky? Or was he paying that close of attention to her body-type?

Whatever the case, it made Avicia warm with embarrassment. Briefly, she considered changing back into her regular clothes and lying through her teeth about it not fitting. He couldn't force her to prove otherwise!

Her scheming suddenly halted as knuckles rapped on the fitting room door. "Miss Thorn, you alright in there?"

"I'm fine," she squawked, surprise making her words crack.

"How's everything look?"

Avicia fell quiet, confronted with something she direly wanted to ignore. The dress looked phenomenal on her. And it was beautiful. The long black gloves and the black beaded princess necklace complimented the look extremely well. Even the shoes, simple black flats that were hidden beneath the skirt, fit perfectly.

"It's... It's okay," she muttered as her cheeks warmed.

There was a moment of silence, as if he was waiting. He probably assumed she'd fling the door open to show him the outcome. When she didn't, he finally asked, "May I see?"

Still grappling for an excuse, her eye caught the price tag attached to the dress. "Mr. Vidaroc, I cannot afford this."

"I'll buy it for you." The words came out so easy, as if he planned to treat it. Uncertainty swelled in her stomach, memories of other times men offered to buy things for her. "Now, let's see how you look."

Avicia's lips pursed, temptation mixing with apprehension in her thoughts. Going to the door, she cracked it open, careful not to show an inch of the look, to glare at her boss. "I thought it was coming out of my check."

He made a non-committal sound, waving his hand dismissively. "Are you going to show me?"

"Let's be perfectly clear," she growled, pushing the door open to entirely show off the end-result. Something about this whole situation, from being forced to go with him to the event to having him buy her a dress, hit a little too close to red flag territory. For a second, Kahdreg's expression changed. Eyes widening, just enough to be noticeable, and a darkening at his cheeks. Not that Avicia noticed, since her irritation had flared at his offer and she was jabbing an index finger into his chest. "I don't owe you shit if you buy this for me."

Kahdreg held both hands up, as if to demonstrate he had no ill intentions. "I never said you would."

"Men say that, but expect otherwise," Avicia spat, tone bitter and dark. Her glare never wavered from his face, as if she could see through him. To whatever he planned or was hoping for.

He seemed about ready to say something, with brows furrowed and a somewhat frustrated expression on his face. However, his mouth snapped closed. In a breath, the consternation melted away as a smarmy grin stretched over his lips. Taking her jabbing hand in both his, he gently pushed her away. "Oh, Miss Thorn, I don't expect anything from you."

Her eyes narrowed. She was too distracted by his tone to pull her hand away from the warm embrace of his. "Why does that sound condescending?"

Leaning close, until his face was a little too close to hers, Kahdreg gave her hand a teasing squeeze. "Because it is."

An excited jolt jerked through her body as his hands tightened on hers. Ripping her hand away, before the proximity could tempt her to smack her boss, Avicia retreated to the changing room. After slamming and clearly locking the door, Kahdreg's dwindling chuckle as he left haunted her. She bunched the hand he'd held into a fist, the ghost of his heat still taunting her palm.

Avicia mentally groaned, pressing her untarnished hand to her forehead. Closing her eyes, so as not to see the outfit, she tried to tamp down the pleasant and unpleasant squirms in her stomach.

"I just have to get through tonight and everything will be back to normal. He'll be back to his grouchy sourpuss self and I can put this behind me," she whispered to herself as she moved to change. After all, how many functions would he really want her attending with him? Surely he understood work-life separation and this was a one-time thing.

As she stripped and reclothed, the warmth of his hands still frustratingly taunted where he'd touched her. Avicia stubbornly ignored it. Wishful thinking kept crooning: It's only for tonight. It's only for tonight.

-

"You know, instead of spending all this money on me, wouldn't it have gone to better use at the charity gala?" She knew it was useless to point this out, especially as they were exiting the store. Avicia still chafed at her boss's insistence on buying her such an expensive gift. With a sigh, she looked ahead, staring at the people milling about the walkways. The sun had begun its downward descent, but heat still baked the sidewalks. She was only given momentary reprieve as they walked by open doorways, the beckoning of air conditioning teasing over them.

"The charity is more of a tax write-off and it's pretty vague what the owners will even do with the donations." Kahdreg shrugged, unfazed by her pointed commentary. "I'd rather not put my money into the pockets of a conniving businessperson."

At that, Avicia's eyebrows raised. "But your investors...?"

"What they do with their money is their business." Another careless shrug, which made the bags he carried rattled. A crooked, roguish grin tilted at his lips as he added, "Especially if that means they'll fund my projects."

Avicia scoffed, on the verge of calling her boss an opportunistic ass right to his face. She stopped herself just in time, though. After all, wasn't that a similar mindset to her cam business? What her patrons did with their money was their business. Especially when it went into her pocket after a scandalous show.

Kahdreg's voice interrupted Avicia's inner contemplation. He was giving a critical look to his phone screen. "We took longer than I anticipated. Where's your place?"

"Over in Phoenix Falls." She braced herself for some snobby reaction. Though it wasn't one of the worst areas of the city, she doubted Kahdreg wanted to venture to it. He'd probably make some smarmy remark about his car getting targeted for 'being too nice' for the neighborhood.

"My place is closer. We'll both get ready there."

"Now, hold on!" Her heart jerked to her throat as she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, caught off-guard by this shift in direction. She'd been completely prepared to stand up for her area of the city. Not venture into his territory!

"It's logical, Ms. Thorn," Kahdreg sighed, turning to face her. One hand went to his hip, his expression sober and more akin to the appearance she was used to at work. Though, his voice was soft and reasonable. Not his usual surly bellowing of orders. "We won't have to go through the trouble of finding each other at the gala and the roads are going to be hellish anyway, so you might as well come with me in my arranged ride."

"But..." Avicia scrambled for an excuse, chewing on her bottom lip. Her brain filed through all the little details of getting ready. "I should shower and I don't have any of my make-up or anything!"

Again, Kahdreg didn't hesitate. "It might surprise you, but I do have a bathroom and make-up."

"You have make-up." Avicia raised an eyebrow skeptically, tone flat with disbelief.

His smile didn't budge as he nodded. "Yes, I have make-up."

"Why?"

"Why not?" He patted the side of his face with one hand, a teasing smile on his lips. "I need a bit of cover-up sometimes, too."

Avicia snorted at his reply, crossing her arms in a huff. "I don't think green foundation will suit my complexion, Mr. Kahdreg."

"I don't know. I think you'd look good with green," he chuckled, a smidge flirtatiously, but said no more as he led her to a parking garage. Avicia glared at his back, lips pursed and fighting the warmth crawling in her core. She didn't really have to tag along at his heels, she realized. She could push the argument further, absolutely refuse. But, she'd be lying if there wasn't a tickle of interest about his living space.

After all, what better way to trounce the growing heat than latch onto anything slightly disagreeable in his home. It was probably opulent and chic and modern. Too large for him alone. It was probably one of those mansions, with ceilings so high, you needed a cherry picker to clean them. Or with enough rooms to house ten families. And with wide doors to accommodate that constant changing of decor. A testament to how easily Kahdreg spent money to look good, to appear superior, to an outside eye.

That was probably why he dropped so much cash on her gown. He realized how paltry she'd look, next to him, in her simple black dress.

Just considering what his home subconsciously said about him made her leer intensify at his back.

"Don't give me that look." Kahdreg didn't even turn around.

Feeling as if she was caught with her thoughts, Avicia squawked, "What look!?"

"The pouty glare you use when you think I'm not looking," he replied, an evident grin in his tone. He still didn't look back toward her. "The one where you think I'm being too much."

She huffed and pulled her gaze from his back, glaring at the cars as they made their way through the shadowy garage. The heat had grown to a full blown flush at his teasing tone. It didn't escape her that he, inadvertently, admitted to paying close attention to her, even when his focus was seemingly elsewhere. To distract herself from that thought, Avicia spat back, "That's because you are too much, Mr. Kahdreg."

Kahdreg's deep laughter echoed through the cavernous garage, drawing her attention back to him. The reverberating sounds sent a delightful shot down Avicia's spine. His following words made that sizzle turn into a burn as his voice dropped low, almost sultry, "Oh, you haven't seen too much, yet."

She opened her mouth to retort, before it snapped shut again. Anything she had to say would come off wrong and - judging by his grin - he knew that as well. Turning her attention away from her boss, she tried to ignore the warmth climbing across her cheeks, stretching as far as her ears. Her earlier mantra of It's only for tonight was beginning to falter.

One night might be all it took to ruin her, she realized.