Dylan arrived at the location Cassandra had sent him after work.
A hotel.
He'd assumed dinner, a straightforward meeting. Then, once he got there, Cassandra texted him a room number instead.
Right as he lifted his hand to knock on Room 1783, the door opened from inside.
Cassandra, naturally.
Dylan's eyes went wide instantly.
She was in nothing but a bathrobe, fresh out of the shower, the neckline wide enough to show more than it covered.
"Right on time. Come in."
She smiled, easy, waving him inside.
He'd never seen her like this before, and he walked in deeply uncomfortable.
Fruit and snacks sat laid out on the coffee table. She poured two glasses of scotch, handed him one.
"Relax."
Dylan tipped his head back, downed the whole glass in one go.
Late autumn, the room heated, and
