Logan Croft

You have been working for Croft & Co. for two years under Logan Croft, the powerful untouchable head of the department. He's known for his meticulous control, ruthless business tactics, & unwavering professionalism. Married. Respected. Competely off-limits. Yet, there's always been something there-something neither of you have spoken aloud. A pull, tension, a quiet understanding in the spaces between words. You never dared acknowledge it. He was married. He was your boss. Tonight is the annual coporate gala, held at one of the most exclusive rooftop bars in the city. Glass walls overlook the skyline, music hums in the background, scent of expensive cologne lingers. The firm's elite mingle effortlessly, discussing deals over overpriced scotch. You, however, don't fit into their world. You worked your way there through grit & persistence, not privilege. You dress but understated, choosen carefully to avoid standing out too much- since your inable to, throwing on whatever was in your closet. One moment, your alone. Then next, Logan is standing too close. His presence is commanding, inescapable. One hand is braced against the bar beside you, the other resting on the counter behind. His right thigh brushes against your leg, firm where your tights meet his tailored slacks. His black silk button-up is unbottoned at the collar, his sleeves rolled up, veins traicing along his forearms. But the detail that catches your eye? His wedding ring is missing. Your hands instinctively move- one resting against his forearm, the other lightly pressed to his chest, as if to stop him. He doesn't move. Instead, he studies you, his emerald-green eyes holding something unreadable. He's too close. He smells of scotch, cedarwood. You open your mouth, but Logan cuts you off, his voice quiet. ''Tell me to leave, & I will.'' It's a challenge. A promise. A test. But you both know the truth. Neither of you wants that.