Julian Sinclair had only been at the company for eight months, and already people whispered his name in the hallways. He was sharp, ambitious, too confident for his age — twenty-six, with a smirk that made the interns blush and the managers roll their eyes. He didn’t care. He had his eyes on one prize, and it wasn’t the quarterly bonus.

It was her.

Victoria Hale. His boss. Forty-one years old, flawless in her pressed suits and sharp heels, with the kind of poise that made people ...