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Chapter Text

“Hurry up!” Gelon hissed, peering through the blinds. Kassandra rifled through the drawer, searching through bundles of papers. “He’s pulling up.”

Kassandra’s hand met plastic, and she grasped it. She pulled free a box of chocolates and poured a bunch into her hand. 

“Do you want one?”

“Fantastic fucking idea.” Gelon let the blinds go. “Our grumpy-arse manager walks in to the sight of his drawers open and chocolate around our mouths.”

Kassandra shrugged. She unwrapped a chocolate and shoved it into her mouth. The wrapper slipped and floated down to the floor. 

“Oi!” Gelon hissed again, with growing urgency. He was probably in the lift by now. “Evidence! Go and put it in another department’s bin.” She chose instead to shove it into her pocket. 

“Penance,” said Kassandra, rearranging the drawer, “for last week’s drama, and this week’s.” She shoved another handful into her trouser pockets before she left the crime scene. 

Kleon used to lead the Acquisitions department, choosing which companies and properties to buy. In his day, he was great at it. Eventually, the times moved and he didn’t. Shares stopped rolling in, and the portfolio was stagnant. The company charts began to slope downwards. But he knew that it was better to be liked than to work hard. He was a friend of the CEO and the board were fond of him, so instead of letting him go, they simply dumped him at the helm of the marketing department. The worst place for a dinosaur. 

As their manager, the pros were that he knew nothing about marketing. He couldn’t tell the difference between an ad and a post, and he was probably the type to google ‘Download more RAM’. If ever he caught Kassandra idle, it was easy to pull the wool over his eyes. The con was also that he knew nothing about marketing. Gelon and Kassandra spent half of their days doing nothing, and the other half rushing through projects they never knew they had. 

He walked in with a huff and dropped his satchel to the floor, vaguely near his desk, but intrusive enough for someone to trip over. He rubbed his beady eyes. Probably heavy from drinking.

“Good morning, Kleon,” said Gelon. Kassandra could only make an affirmative noise, because she was still chewing one of his Lindt chocolates. “How was your weekend?” 

“Where are we up to with the press release?” He grumbled. Here we go. 

“Which one?” asked Kassandra, trying to hide her confusion. Kleon dropped his hand from his face with a sigh. 

“The new company director.”

This was a new low, both terrible and golden. Perhaps in four months’ time they’d be talking about this at their desks instead of doing work, when they would routinely complain about something else Kleon had dumped on them. Remember when he didn’t even tell us there was a new director coming? The most senior in the company, only answering to the CEO? The person who’d decide on our budgets? They would roll their eyes and laugh, maybe, but they’d have to get through this week first. 

“There’s a new director?” Gelon blinked. They didn’t even the old one was leaving. No wonder he hadn’t showed up today.

“I mentioned this last week.” He definitely didn’t. “Headhunted last Monday. The interview was only a formality, the board are very keen. Mr Diakos was fired on Friday evening. If our team doesn’t have something ready by the time she starts, they’ll want to know why.” 

“When does she start, then?” Gelon asked. She’d done well to hold back her temper, but her tone was starting to slip. The minute he left, Kassandra knew there’d be a barrage of expletives, some of them would be her own. 

“Tomorrow.”  

“You want it done by tomorrow?” Kassandra piped up to give her colleague a rest.

“I want it done by lunch.” 

“Kleon, we need high-resolution images, we need quotes, we need information,” Gelon began to rant. “At the very least, we need a name.” 

“How hard can it be to write up some puff piece?” Kleon waved his hand to dismiss her, already making his way to the kitchen. “Her name is Aspasia Alexaki. I want a draft on my desk ASAP.” 

***

“A new director?” If Barnabas’ cup wasn’t pressed against the rim of the water cooler, he might have dropped it. “Malaka! Nobody told me.” 

“Shit,” Kassandra whispered. “I was hoping you might know something.” The old man was the company’s longest serving accountant, well respected in the office. But when you caught him in the right mood, he was a fountain of gossip. “We have to write a press release. Kleon wants a draft by lunch.”

“But you need to ask little old me for information?” Barnabas shook his head. “He’s no good, that Kleon. Waste of a massive salary.”

“Really?” Kassandra’s ears pricked up. “How much is he earning?”

“No, no, I’ve said too much. It’s confidential, see. A matter for payroll.”

“Oh, come on. I won’t tell anyone,” said Kassandra. The accountant threw a shifty look over his shoulder.

“Only a minor cut from his acquisitions job, to keep him happy. 150 thousand a year, I’ve heard.”

Kassandra scoffed. “And yet the company can’t afford to give me a raise.” 

“Bullshit,” he said. “Get out while you can.”

Of course Kleon’s salary was astronomical, with his fictional workload. She would have loved nothing more than to walk out then and there, telling her manager where to stick his job her way out, but sadly she was there for a reason. 

Six months ago she spent her workdays at the poolside, working as a lifeguard at her local pool. The people were nicer, and there wasn’t as much pressure to look busy. Every so often she would blow her whistle and shout at a child for dive-bombing, but it didn’t bother her.  

But the hours weren’t long enough, and she shared an apartment with her mother. Their rent was climbing higher, and they weren’t pulling in enough money between them. She had to choose the first career that revealed itself. Now she had to deal with shit from men in their forties. Kosmos House felt like a prison, but it would be worse if she still had to come home to her mother over the water bill, fretting about how they would pay it.

She returned to her desk to find Gelon, who’d made herself at home, already occupying her workspace to rush through the draft. 

“That was a long toilet break,” Gelon said. “Do you feel like doing some work now?”

“I was investigating!” 

“Where, the toilet walls? You’ll only find your own details in those places.”

“Prick,” Kassandra playfully smacked her arm. “I was talking to Barnabas, to see if he knew anything.”

“Barnabas is great, but we need to be asking Google.”

And Google delivered. Aspasia had been married to Perikles, a successful politician who’d passed away earlier in the year. Before her marriage she was a model, but her newfound status had allowed her to move into business. She’d worked as a brand ambassador for a large fashion company, and now it seemed she was leaving her stylish image behind to move into.

Her career was impressive, but Kassandra’s attention was elsewhere. Aspasia was attractive.  She had thick dark curls that shone when they caught the light, and dark intelligent eyes. Kassandra was a Tinder juggernaut, far from shy, but the thought of seeing this woman every day threatened to knot her stomach.

Kassandra let out a heavy sigh. She opened up a Google Doc and began to type.

This week, a hot new bombshell, enters the

“Kassandra!” Gelon shoved her, but she was grinning. “Don’t write that shit! You know they log our keystrokes.”

“You were thinking it.” 

“Some fucking decorum would be nice, please.”

Kassandra unwrapped a stolen Lindt and placed it in Gelon’s hand. Gelon looked over her shoulder, then grudgingly ate it as Kassandra hid the wrapper. “Although bribes are fine.”

By lunchtime, they’d produced a rudimentary draft. A stolen image, a brief section about the new director’s career, and repeated insistence that the company were thrilled to have her. They added some stock quotes from Aspasia about how much she was looking forward to joining the company and continuing their growth, which would probably be approved for use later on. 

Gelon dumped it on Kleon’s empty desk, and the two headed off for a very long lunch break.  

***

Kassandra sat at the table, her elbow sticking to the layer of anti- bac that the waiter had left. She took a bite of her chicken wrap, eyeing the bottles at the bar wistfully. She wanted a large glass of wine, perhaps two, but Gelon might have drawn the line there. The woman had a mouth that would shock even a sailor, but she was Kassandra’s superior after all. 

“Do you think she’ll get rid of Kleon?” Kassandra wondered out loud. “Aspasia, I mean.”

“Wishful thinking. Director or not, it would be a tough decision to get past the board.”

Just then, an email came through, bursting across their notification centres.

To: +Athens Office 
From: Kleon Manetas 
Subject: Theft

Unfortunately, items have been removed from my drawers without my say-so. Stealing, no matter how small, is a criminal offence. This instance has been reported to HR, and the situation will be closely monitored going forward.

If anyone has any information, please volunteer it to me. 

Kleon Manetas

Head of Marketing

The two burst out laughing. Gelon shook her head. 

“Wow,” Kassandra scoffed. “All that over chocolate?”

“Perhaps it’ll encourage him to sit at his fucking desk, instead of spending all day in the kitchen,” Gelon sneered. “But really Kassandra, don’t do that again. I can’t be dealing with the shit if he finds out. We should get back, anyway, see what he thinks of the draft.”

“Don’t say that. He’s going to say he doesn’t like it, without telling us why, and then I’ll have to spend all afternoon on a fresh one.”

“Best you start now, if you want to leave at five,” Gelon laughed. “You should go now, while he’s at his desk. If not, he’ll drop it on us later and we’ll have no time. Go ahead, I’ll pay the bill here. Sort me a transfer later.” 

“Or we can expense it,” Kassandra jokingly suggested. 

“Not a fucking chance.” 

Kassandra made the depressing trip back across the road, then came the long journey up the stairs. She hated speaking to Kleon when nobody else was around. She tapped her fob and pushed the door open with her shoulder.

“What do you mean, he’s not booked a room?” Odessa banged her mouse on the other side of the reception desk. “Where is he?” Her furious eyes caught Kassandra, and she froze. “Kass, where’s Kleon?” 

“I don’t know,” she said. “I thought he was at his desk, playing CSI over his missing stuff. Have you looked under his desk? He might be dusting for footprints.” 

“I’m not joking,” Odessa warned. 

Kassandra shrugged. “Try the kitchen.” Not wanting to risk more of the receptionist’s temper, she swiftly walked away, relieved at least that she wouldn’t have to see her boss yet. She ambled down the walkway, catching a moment to look at her Instagram feed. But when she looked up, she rued the sight of Kleon’s empty desk. Stood over it was Aspasia herself. 

Chapter Text

Aspasia worked too hard. She’d made a lot of money with plenty to show for it, but it had cast a dark shadow over her marriage, and the problem only became worse after Perikles’ death. It was a marriage of convenience and they’d never pretended otherwise. Aspasia needed a name that carried weight, with connections to boot. Perikles needed an attractive woman on his arm who was savvy enough to dodge the traps of scandals and slander. Behind closed doors the bond they shared was far closer to friendship than romance, but she still missed him, and she plugged the gap he left behind with overtime. 

She’d promised herself this new job would be a clean slate. She’d moved into a new apartment too, a beautiful penthouse with a pool, cinema, and a glossy home-gym. These rooms were meant to provide distractions, different ways to put herself first. But she was already struggling with familiar urges. She couldn’t stand to be idle. 

As soon as she received permission from the CEO, she was on her way to the office. She opted for a blue designer suit with the shirt neatly tucked in. Short black heels to give her height without drawing attention. A thin gold bracelet to match her wedding ring, which she held on to for a look of integrity. She wore her dark curls down, and subtle makeup that was just enough to highlight her eyes.

The receptionists must have recognized her from the day of her interview. Odessa and Roxana, she remembered. Roxana was occupied on her computer, and her colleague was startled by the sight of her. 

“Aspasia! Good afternoon,” said Odessa. “I’m afraid there’s been a miscommunication of some sort, you’re not due in until tomorrow.”

“Yes, I’m aware. I’m here for an informal visit,” said Aspasia. Odessa’s eyes drifted down to her outfit, and her face tightened with doubt. “I want to see the office on my own terms. Onboarding can be so tedious, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think anyone from HR is available. We’ll need to show you the fire exits, the toilet, the kitchen,” Odessa went on. Aspasia bit the inside of her cheek. At this point in her career, she shouldn’t have to answer to receptionists. 

“If HR have any concerns, they can bring them to me in writing. I have permission from the CEO.”

“Ah,” said Odessa, deflated. “In that case, I’ll show you around myself.” 

Aspasia would have preferred Roxana to offer. She had a friendlier face, and she’d known better than to argue. Now this tour would be awkward. 

She followed her through the corridor, into the open-plan office. The walls were exposed brick, with sleek black tables. The décor was fashionable, but the equipment seemed to be lacking. As she walked through, she noticed a lot of the monitors were unnaturally thick, several years behind. Some desks had build-ups of sweet wrappers and empty bottles, others decorated with family photos. She noticed some people had custom chairs, made redundant by their users slouching. 

Offices are all the same, she reminded herself. Just a backdrop. 

She listened with interest as Odessa showed her the fire exits and ferried her between departments. There was nothing she hadn’t seen before. Accountants furiously typing through spreadsheets with coffees piling up their desks. The acquisitions team, with crisp suits and sharklike smiles. The sales team, with loud laughs and cocky swaggers. But one section of the office was conspicuously empty.

“This is Marketing, well, it should be,” said Odessa. “There’s only three of them at the minute. Two have gone for lunch, and Kleon said he’d be in a meeting.”

“Kleon Manetas,” Aspasia wondered aloud. “He’s the only board member I’ve not met yet. When will he be available?”

“Erm,” Odessa’s face flattened. “I’m not sure.”

“But he’s in a meeting,” said Aspasia. There were three conference rooms. If the receptionists couldn’t keep track of their use and occupants, it was a bad sign.

“Check the diary,” said Aspasia. “I’ll wait here.”

“Of course,” said Odessa before she hurried away.

Aspasia lingered, and walked over to a larger desk that must have belonged to Kleon. She spotted her own photo on a sheet titled ‘FOR RELEASE TO TRADE PRESS’. She picked it up and skimmed it over. An investment firm’s new director was a dull affair, really, but the piece was written with all the zeal of a football club announcing a star signing. 

Kosmos Investments are delighted to confirm the arrival of Aspasia Alexaki, our new Managing Director. Following an illustrious career in the fashion industry and a meteoric rise through the world of finance, Aspasia is considered one of Europe’s leading business minds.

“I am thrilled to be joining Kosmos Investments. I have always been aware of the firm’s growing market value and vision in acquiring value-add opportunities. Most of all, I have admired the company ethos of growth and integrity."

Aspasia smirked. When she looked up, she found a woman watching her. She was tall, muscular, and attractive, with dark brown hair to match her eyes. She wore a tight black shirt, tucked into her beige trousers to accentuate her broad shoulders. She might have had her as some sort of womanizer, if not for her gormless stare. 

“You’re her,” she mumbled. Her phone was slack in her hand, tilting between her fingers. 

“I am.” Aspasia lowered the sheet and walked to meet her. “And you are?”

“Kassandra,” she said. There was a pause while Aspasia waited for her job title, but what she eventually said was, “I work here.” Aspasia laughed. Kassandra blinked at the stupidity of what she’d just said, then forced a pained smile. 

“Did you write this?” Aspasia showed her the press release. 

 “Oh, yes, I did. It’s just a first draft, though, it hasn’t been approved yet.” Kassandra retreated into her chair. “That’s, well, that’s up to you. If there’s any amends you’d like, I’ll be happy to make them.”

“It’s good, by trade press standards, although perhaps I’m a little biased. I appreciate your flattery,” Aspasia said, sounding more flirtatious than she’d intended. “I see you’ve put words in my mouth.” She pointed at the false quote. 

“Oh! We do that to everyone. We write the quotes and the quoted person approves them. It’s standard practice here, it’s not just your…mouth.” Another pained smile. Aspasia stifled a smile of her own.  

“Then standard practice has to change. It’s not fair to make you guess at our strategies without consulting us first.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Odessa’s rapid footsteps returned to interrupt them. “I can’t find him anywhere. He’s not in the diary, not in any of the communal spaces. I called him twice, and he’s just told me he’s at the dentist.” 

“Put him in the diary, then. I want to speak to him first thing tomorrow.” 

Aspasia walked away, maintaining a stern exterior. But the marketer’s floundering had amused her more than it should have. She looked back over her shoulder to see her still in her chair, with her head in her hands. Somehow, she sensed that Kassandra’s torment was far from over. 

Chapter Text

Kassandra spent that evening curled up in her sheets, scrolling through Aspasia’s Google image results. There were pictures of her on red carpets, magazine front covers, and greyscale photoshoots. Of all the women to embarrass herself in front of, why did it have to be this one?

“I work here,” she whispered to herself, “fucking idiot.”

Her rational side said it didn’t matter. She was the most junior in her team, and Aspasia was one of the highest ranked in the company, so it was unlikely they’d speak much. But as one of her front-page features stared back from her phone screen, she felt an overwhelming urge to redeem herself. 

The next morning, she pulled her smartest clothes from the back of her wardrobe. A white satin button-up shirt and dark business trousers. She finished the look with a loose-fitting blazer, and she brushed the dust from her oxfords.

“Have you got a job interview?” Myrrine asked when she saw her, wandering into the kitchen with a coffee mug. “Finally leaving that awful place?”

“No,” Kassandra answered. Her mother looked disappointed. “A new boss.” She showed her a picture from her browser, where the tabs were still open.

“Oh, I see,” Myrrine elbowed her. “Hoping to make an impression, are you?”

“I already did, I’m afraid. I stumbled over my words like an idiot, and now I can’t process the embarrassment. Now I have to reinvent myself.” 

“You go in dressed like that, they’ll just think you’re looking for another job.” 

“Fine,” Kassandra grumbled, “I’ll skip the blazer.” 

Myrrine’s advice wasn’t always friendly or particularly welcome, but it was only ever in good faith and she knew better than to act against it. She left her jacket over a chair.

“Kassandra?” she asked, just before she left. “Don’t do anything unprofessional. I know what you’re like.” Kassandra rolled her eyes and shut the door behind her. 

She always started early. She preferred to enter the office when it was empty, skipping the endless small talk. She could help herself to Kleon’s chocolates and waste the best part of an hour on her phone. Gelon wouldn’t be there for at least another 45 minutes to notice.

She made her way up to the office with her back straight and her head high, determined to radiate confidence. At the end of the walkway, the door to Aspasia’s room was wide open. The new director was stood over her desk, frowning at both her monitors. 

“Good morning,” said Kassandra, showing initiative. “Do you want a coffee? Anything from the kitchen?”

“Morning, Kassandra,” Aspasia said, then slapped the side of one of her monitors. Kassandra leaned on to her back foot, realising she’d chosen a bad time. “Are you any good with computers?”

“I’m alright,” she said, making her way to the private office. It was a small room, but it was packed with black filing cabinets. Her chair was tall and heavily padded, far from the flimsy mesh on Kassandra’s. Her desk was wider, presumably to accommodate the letters and invoices that would be left there.

“The second monitor isn’t working,” said Aspasia, with a frustrated shake of her head. “This should have been sorted yesterday. I just want to get on with my work, but nothing’s ever that simple.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Kassandra. An easy fix, probably, and a chance to make a good impression. Now Aspasia was being daft, but you’d never be able to tell by her hard face and folded arms. “May I?” Aspasia moved out of the way, allowing Kassandra to shift the chair and follow the cables under the desk. “Nothing wrong with the power supply,” she pressed the plugs in harder, just to be sure. She made her way back around to the monitors. “Here’s your problem,” she said, “HDMI cable isn’t in properly.”

She set it right, and the screen fired up in response. Aspasia’s expression softened. 

“Thank you, Kassandra,” said the Director. “In return, I’ll give you a word of professional advice. Don’t make a habit of offering coffees. People will come to expect it from you. Even today, it’s hard to be taken seriously as a woman in business. It’ll be far worse if they see you as some sort of maid.” 

“I don’t mind,” Kassandra shrugged. “If it’s Gelon or Kleon, then I mind, but you, well, it’s okay if it’s you.” 

“Really? I’ll bear that in mind,” said Aspasia, with a sly smile.

Kassandra left, before she had the opportunity to get nervous again.  

Later, Gelon arrived in a brand-new shirt and smart trousers. The two laughed in recognition when they saw each other. 

“You too?” Kassandra joked. 

“Someone has to make our team look good after yesterday’s shit.” Gelon dropped into her seat. “With our bumbling gay-arse junior and an absent manager.”

“I’ll have you know that I helped Aspasia with her monitors this morning. We’ll look great,” said Kassandra.

“Fucking hell, you’ll need to do more than that. When I walked past the conference rooms, I saw her in there with Kleon.”

“Oh dear.” 

When Kleon returned, he was slightly panicked. He wouldn’t say what she said to him, but it must have rattled him. He gave them a month’s worth of tasks in the space of ten minutes. 

He stayed at his desk a lot more after that, but they weren’t any better for it. They hadn’t been properly managed since the day Kassandra arrived, and now they had to turn things around before the week was out. Gelon was weighed down with website changes, constantly making trips to the IT department. She had several new campaigns to launch, and there was no time for idle chatter. The constant sounds of Kleon’s hammering keyboard, huffs, and muttered curses didn’t help. 

Kassandra was up to her neck. She had to write several documents on the brand strategies for all of their subsidiaries, and produce several spreadsheet reports on their campaign results. 

And she now had the task of making Aspasia’s coffees. Every two or three hours, she’d see a Teams notification. She’d open it to find a curt order of Flat White, Americano, or in the late afternoons, a Double Espresso. 

“You seen this?” Odessa asked Barnabas, when the two were on one of their gossip breaks in the kitchen. “Big Boss has got Kassandra making her coffees.” 

“I’m fucking busy!” Kassandra complained. “All of a sudden, Kleon has to do his job and manage his team, and everything has to be done right away, because it’s Kleon! I’m trying to quiet quit.” 

“She lit a fire under everyone’s arse. She was on at me this morning for not having her parking space ready. We’re already in a rush trying to organise the company social next month,” said Odessa.

“She was annoyed with us for the way we order invoices.” said Barnabas. “What happened to that press release, Kassandra?”

“She binned it,” said Kassandra, “told Kleon her work will speak for itself.”

“It is speaking, it’s telling me to hand in my notice,” Odessa jabbed, her irritation growing. “I’d better not stay here, the Dragoness needs somewhere to park her Aston Martin. At this point, she might as well just run me over with it.” She walked briskly out of the door. 

Barnabas laughed, loud and raspy. “What a turnaround this place is seeing! You should have taken my advice, Kassandra.”

“Then who would make Aspasia’s coffees?” she asked as she took the cup and walked away. 

“Get Kleon to do it!” Barnabas shouted after her. 
 
But Kassandra didn’t mind as much as she pretended to. Just like Kleon, she knew that her relationships with the higher ups counted for more than her work did. It was time away from her desk, but it was well spent. Careful not to spill any, she took the cup to Aspasia’s office and set it down on her desk. 

“Thank you, Kassandra,” was Aspasia’s typical response, always with a tinge of amusement. 

“You’re welcome,” she said as usual, and she meant it. She liked the attention, the spark in Aspasia’s eyes when she walked in, and the way they lingered on her, even if she had to remind herself that she was probably just a figure of fun. 

By the time Friday rolled around, she was more than ready for a break. As soon as the clock struck five, Gelon switched her computer off and Kassandra followed suit. They hurried off, not giving Kleon chance to question them. They called an Uber and headed straight for a city-centre bar.

“I’ve never seen the company so organised,” Gelon said as they settled in a booth by the wall. “I can’t tell if it’s a good thing yet.”

“I suppose Aspasia is doing her job,” said Kassandra. 

“I just wish Kleon fucking had, or we wouldn’t be in this position. I’ve been telling him for months that we need a more structured approach to our work, but he doesn’t listen until he hears it from above. Then we have to cram several weeks of work into three days.”

“Then he’ll complain it’s not up to standard.”

“Fuck him. Enough about that arsehole, I’m getting the drinks in,” said Gelon.  

“I haven’t told you what I want!”

Gelon came back with two enormous cocktail pitchers, each the size of their heads.

“Oh no,” Kassandra rested her hands on top of her head. “If I drink all of that, I’ll end up texting my ex.”

“Who, Kyra?” Gelon asked. Kassandra nodded, and picked up the straw regardless. “You need to delete her number.”

“My pride is in tatters. I need something.”

Kassandra’s relationships didn’t last long. There always came a point where they felt like a chore, but it hadn’t been the case with Kyra. Her fiery attitude and sense of humour always kept Kassandra excited, and her weekends were never boring.
It lasted four months, and it looked like they might go the distance, until it crashed and burned in the space of an evening. Kyra’s ex Thaletas approached Kassandra outside a bar looking for a fight. Kassandra beat him in self-defense. But when Kyra saw her ex black and blue and Kassandra unscathed, she came to her own conclusions. She wasn’t interested in Kassandra’s side of the story, and she hadn’t been able to get through to her for months. 

But Kassandra was willing to risk being left on read again. Anything to distract herself from the growing crush on her new boss. 

And before she knew it, she was halfway down her pitcher. 

“Fucking hell, I’ll have to hurry up,” Gelon said. “Look at you go!”

“Please don’t.” 

But Gelon had several years on her junior, and after-work drinks were little more than water to her. She downed the rest of hers within seconds and slammed it triumphantly on the table. 

“It’s been one of those weeks! Come on, we need to forget.”

Kassandra brought another round, only for them to disappear at an alarming rate. Cocktails were just death traps encased in glass. They were too sweet, too smooth, and too moreish.  Their laughter grew in volume and they sped through their gossip, and then when Gelon left to bring more drinks, Kassandra’s thumb drifted over to the Tinder icon.

 “I recognise that pink glow!” Gelon jeered, lowering the third round to the table. “Naughty!"

“It’s this or I text Kyra,” said Kassandra. “Date stories or whinging, what’ll it be?”

“Am I boring you?” Gelon threw her hand up and grinned. Kassandra nodded and scrolled through the sea of profiles. “I’m the best colleague you could have ever hoped for! I took you under my wing, I let you do fuck all-“

Aspasia, 34

“Shit,” Kassandra whispered. Aspasia’s face was no stranger to her phone, but she wasn’t expecting to see it here. 

“I say nothing when you steal from our manager, I-“

“We have a problem!”

“I know we fucking do!” The only way was to shut her up was to show her the phone screen. Her jaw dropped. She slid around the booth to sit next to her. 

“Oh my God,” Gelon’s face lit up. “It can’t be her.”

“She’s not that famous,” said Kassandra. “And these pictures aren’t on Google. Believe me, I’d know.”

“I can’t believe it,” Gelon scoffed. “Perikles is still warm! I suppose he was an old man. If I’d been married to him all this time, I’d be gasping too. So what are you waiting for? Swipe right!”

“No! I only wanted to show you in case this dents the company image, we might need to-“

“Fuck the company!” shouted Gelon. Kassandra’s thumb made a quick bid for the X button, but her friend was faster. She swiped right, and the screen went black.

It’s a Match! 

Gelon howled with laughter, nearly falling off the bench. She tapped the table. Kassandra tensed her jaw and shook her head.

“This is fucking brilliant! Go on, send her a nude!”

“I don’t have any!”

“What, you’re telling me you spend hours a week in the gym, and you don’t have any? Go on, get us a better budget!”

“You’re disgusting.” Kassandra lay her phone flat on the table, then stood. “I’m going to the toilet. Make your own fucking account in the meantime!”

She walked away, knowing she’d never live this down. She had the sense to know that a match meant nothing if you knew each other. You’d swipe right on them, just to see if they’d do the same. That was obviously what Aspasia had done. 

She spent a bit too long in the toilets. She noticed the room starting to spin around her, and the week’s tiredness catching up with her. When she went to sleep tonight, she expected to dream of spreadsheets. She’d have to nurse her last drink.

When she returned to the bar she found a dreadful sight, Gelon’s cackling face illuminated by her phone.

“Malaka!” she dashed back to her seat. “What have you done?” She snatched her phone, and to her horror, she found a chat log.

Aspasia
Fancy seeing you here.

Kassandra
I’m always happy to see you

Aspasia
I know.

Kassandra
Any plans for the weekend?

Aspasia
I’m still at the office. I’ll be in and out all weekend, there’s a lot to catch up on.
Between you and me, firing someone on the spot doesn’t make for the smoothest changeover.

Kassandra
That’s shit. If there’s anything I can do to help you settle in, give me a shout

Aspasia
Kind of you to offer.

Kassandra
I’m in town. Would you like to join me? I can call you an Uber

Aspasia
Unfortunately work has other plans for me.
Enjoy your weekend, Kassandra. 

“Gelon!” Kassandra growled, almost throwing her phone. Her anger was genuine, but Gelon only laughed louder. “Are you trying to get me fired?”

“I’m networking for you!”

“Help you settle in? Always happy to see you?” Kassandra slipped back into her chair and grabbed her pitcher. She tossed the straw away, opting to down it instead. “You’d better come up with a decent excuse for me by Monday. You get me into this shit, you get me out.” 

“Oh come on, it's not that bad! You can blame it on the drink, and she messaged you first anyway!" 

“Let’s get another round,” she said, hoping the hangover would kill her. 

Chapter Text

Some people called Kosmos Investments a sleeping giant. Their portfolio was huge, offering potential for mountainous amounts of money, but they had no idea how to chase it. They bought some businesses and lent to others, making poor choices on the latter front. They weren’t vetting their loanees, and the credit team weren’t aggressive enough in chasing their debt. The giant wasn’t sleeping, it was just sluggish, and the leadership of a strong director could whip it into shape. 

It was the reason Aspasia had taken this job. She had the qualities to turn the business around, and she wanted to silence her doubters. In the past, people would say she’d been carried by her looks and rich husband. Now her career was growing, and Perikles had been dead for several months. Soon they would have no excuse. 

But Aspasia couldn’t know just how much stress was waiting for her in the dull walls of Kosmos House. A culture of complacency had set in, and laziness was rotting the office from the inside out. When she asked people to do simple tasks, they would look at her as though she’d just kicked a puppy. 

Except for Kassandra, who answered her every beck and call with a smile. She’d started the coffee orders to tease her, only intending to keep it up for a day or two. But she was far too easy on the eyes, and Aspasia was quickly becoming fond of her. There was no way she could drink that much coffee. Sometimes she just called her in because she found her excessive politeness refreshing.

She knew it was because Kassandra was attracted to her, a fact she enjoyed far too much. It only made the urges to call her in worse. It was hard in turn, not to look at her, the way her muscles strained against her shirt. Her looks blended femininity and masculinity so effortlessly, and she had a beautiful face to top it off. She was one of a kind, Aspasia was sure of it. 

But she had to be careful. She’d worked hard to reshape her image, and she was still trying to shake the idea that she’d fucked her way to the top. The last thing she needed was a rumour that she fooled around with her employees too. Downloading Tinder in the first place was a stupid impulse. Swiping Kassandra was an error of judgement, and messaging her was even worse.

And yet on Monday morning, she found herself reaching for the phone, pressing her way down the directory. She hit dial. 

“Hello?” Kassandra answered, after an awkward pause. 

“Come and see me.”

Moments later, she was standing sheepishly in her doorway. 

“Sit down.” Kassandra perched in the empty seat, arms tucked tightly at her sides. 

“Listen, about Friday night,” she started. Aspasia lifted a hand to silence her.

“I have a job for you,” said the Director. “You should know that I want to expand your team. For a company of this size to have a marketing department the size of yours is ridiculous, but I want to evaluate what we have before we move forward. I want to promote you, if you perform well. But I need to assess your abilities first.” 

“What do you need?” she asked.

“I want to refresh the brand to attract a higher calibre of client. Has Kleon discussed this with you?” Kassandra shook her head. Typical. “Tell him to send you the brief. I want you to create the visual brand guidelines.” 

“Me?” Kassandra was stunned.

“No, Barnabas. Of course I mean you.” 

“Forgive me, it’s just,” she rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s a very important document, and I’ve not been here very long.” Very important was an understatement. She was trusting Kassandra with the company’s new logo, colour scheme and typefaces. They would be on every letter, in every ad, every presentation. It would appear in people’s heads every time they thought of the company. To give the responsibility to a newcomer was a huge risk.  

“I’m aware. Are you passing up an opportunity to impress me?” Aspasia asked, flashing a teasing smile. She expected the flirting to fluster her, but it seemed to have the opposite effect of relief. 

“Of course not,” she said, her nerves somewhat settled.

“Whatever you produce will face several rounds of feedback and approval, starting with Gelon, then Kleon, myself, then the CEO. I wouldn’t give you this task if I didn’t have faith in you, and I won’t let you put something forward if I don’t think it’s good enough. I want to support you, not embarrass you. My door is always open too, I have a background in brand management.”

“Thank you for this opportunity.” Kassandra stood, already veering off to get on with the task. “I won’t let you down.”

***

She eased off on the coffee orders after that. Every time she walked past Kassandra’s desk, she used to find her slouched at it, laughing with Gelon or scrolling through her phone. Now she was hard at work, either studying competitor’s branding or zoomed into her design software. The focus in her eyes was strangely distracting. Aspasia wondered what it would be like if Kassandra looked at her like that, preferably while she was underneath her. But she refused to let herself be jealous of Adobe Illustrator and continued her business.

She was up to her neck in it. When she wasn’t caught in meetings and conferences, she was answering emails and phoning clients. A growing pile of cheque requests and payment orders waited on her desk, and she wondered if she would ever clear it. The free time she’d have to go through them had to be spent chasing her employees.

“We’re an investment fund, not a charity!” She had to stop herself from shouting down the phone to the credit manager. “We give them money, and the point is that we get it back with more! I understand you want to rack up interest, but what does the interest count for if we never see it? The debt owed to us by our subsidiaries is comical. I want it halved by the end of the month, or I’ll be asking serious questions of your management.” She slammed the phone down before the stammers and bumbling excuses could continue. 

She dropped her head into her hands and sighed, pressing her thumbs into her temples. She shouldn’t have lost her temper like that, but she was becoming more and more tightly wound by the hour. She was going to be here all evening. Her only retreat would be her empty apartment, which she would only experience for half an hour before she had to sleep, ready to be here again first-thing. And then she would have to do it all again next week. It was only 10:30, but the thought made her want to hit the bottle.

Three gentle knocks sounded at the door. Would she ever catch a break?

“Come in,” she said. She forced herself up again and straightened her back. 

It was only Kassandra, holding a printed copy of the brand document. She stepped into the office slowly, like she was approaching a spooked animal. She must have heard her sharp tone through the door.

“Good morning, Aspasia,” she said. “I’ve brought you the brand guidelines.”

“Thank you. On my desk, please.” 

“Are you alright?” She dared to ask. Her brows sank with concern. “You’ve not been asking for coffees.” Aspasia managed a small laugh. It was a strange idea of a red flag.

“We’ve both been busy, and there’s a stress problem I’m trying to avoid,” she said. “I think a single milligram of caffeine would tip me into cardiac arrest, and god forbid Odessa has to deal with that paperwork.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help, please tell me.” 

The air in the room seemed to shift as a look passed between them. They held each other’s stares for several seconds before Aspasia realised she was waiting for a response, but now she was the one struggling. She searched for the right response, through an endless list of dirty demands.

The phone rang, forcing Kassandra to take her leave. Aspasia gripped the phone and swallowed her frustration. 

***

She’d expected Kassandra to play it safe with the brand document, to simplify the logo a little, modernise the font. Perhaps she’d tweak the colour scheme slightly, adding the colour names and superficially tacking them on to the business values. 
But the document in front of her was fresh and bold. She’d changed the logo entirely. 

Gold is a bit tacky, and the gorgon’s head made us look evil, said the annotations. Aspasia rolled her eyes and crossed them out. It wasn’t untrue, but it wasn’t appropriate for the eyes of the board either. I’ve chosen a white pyramid, to symbolise clean slates and upwards progression. 

Aspasia paced towards the door, peering through the narrow window by the handle. She could see the marketing department from here. Gelon was at Kassandra’s desk, scrolling aimlessly through the brand PDF while Kassandra sat on her phone, with Kleon noticeably absent. If it had been any other team, she might have stormed out of her office and scolded them. But of course, she had a soft spot for this one. 

She reached for her phone and opened Tinder, opting instead to message her on there. 

Aspasia
I’m impressed.

Kassandra shot up straight in her chair. Gelon whirled around startled, but Kassandra waved her off and quickly started typing back, as her manager returned her attention to the PDF. 

Kassandra
Please tell me you’re not going to use this for work.

Aspasia
What would you prefer I use it for?

Kassandra
3 guesses? 
But really, I’m glad you’re happy with the design. 

Aspasia
Are you always so eager to please?

Kassandra almost dropped her phone at that, looking left to right and turning her brightness down before she replied. 

Kassandra
Only you. What else would you have me do? 

Aspasia felt a rush of desire. It was a reminder that Kassandra’s wants matched her own, and she could only delay the inevitable. If she could tease her, slow things down, string her along, perhaps it could hide the fact that she wanted this woman so much that it was driving her to distraction.

Aspasia
I’ll have the amends on your desk shortly.

She laughed as Kassandra’s posture dropped, then she shoved her phone into her pocket. A loud knock came as Barnabas stepped in front of the window, and Aspasia nearly jumped out of her skin. 

“Come in,” she shouted, hurrying back to her desk. 

“Good afternoon. Could I just have a moment of your time to go through the expenses?” he asked. 

And so the interruptions continued. 

***

It was a cruel irony that her first free evening had to be the company social. The first night to not be cannibalised by her workload had to be spent with the same people causing her grief at the office. She was ready to collapse, down several bottles of wine, or book herself into a rage room, but instead she had to apply more makeup and restrict herself in a sleek black dress. 

They’d booked into the function room of a trendy bar in the city centre, which was now draped in company décor, showcasing the new logo. Even in the low neon lighting, the logo looked great and it was a hit with the board. It wasn’t just a victory for the marketing team, but for Aspasia, who could already demonstrate she was making a difference. Kleon was already taking credit for it over his champagne, bending the ear of the Sales Director about his visions for the brand. He’d contributed very little, but that’s what middle management did. 

Aspasia had seen to it that there was a huge tab behind the bar. These events took place every quarter, but it had to be a celebration. It was important that people socialised and enjoyed themselves as friends.
But the bosses didn’t have that luxury. If a Junior drank too much, they’d be laughed at for a few weeks. But if Senior management drank too much, they’d never live it down and they’d never be taken seriously again. Aspasia liked her money and her Aston Martin, but she valued respect far more. She was stuck with weak wines and polite conversation. 

Over shoulders and glasses, she kept catching sight of Kassandra, who couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off her. As usual, Aspasia was drawn to the sight of her too. She hadn’t gone to the same effort with makeup, but she didn’t need to. She wore a black tailored suit that showed off her tall, strong frame perfectly. With the other women in dresses, she stuck out like a sore thumb, in the best kind of way. She looked more powerful than any member of the board. 

“Miss Alexaki?” The client asked, trying to snatch back her attention. “Don’t you agree?”

“Of course. We can discuss this further on Monday, if you’ll excuse me.” She placed her glass on a passing tray and made for the bathroom. She had no idea what she’d just agreed to, but it would have to wait. 

She let out a deep breath in the privacy of the bathroom, the thumping music reduced to a muffled hum. She leaned over the sink, tempted to splash herself with cold water, but she couldn’t risk smearing her makeup. God forbid she looked anything but composed. 

The door creaked open, letting the music through again. 

“Aspasia?” It was Kassandra, gently closing the door behind her. She’d clearly followed her in. “You look beautiful.”

“Not bad yourself.” The Director stood upright again. 

“I just wanted to thank you, for the opportunity you gave me. The logo was a huge responsibility, but it will be great for my portfolio. I thought perhaps, could I buy you a drink?” she asked. Aspasia laughed, and Kassandra’s smile slipped. 

“It’s an open bar! What do you take me for?”

“Not here!” Kassandra shook her head, irritation breaking through. “Another place. Another night.” Aspasia stepped closer, with every intention of twisting the knife. 

“You’ve thanked me already. You want to take me out for a drink to thank me again, and this has nothing to do with the fact that you fancy me?” 

Then it was Kassandra’s turn to laugh. “And you don’t fancy me?” She threw her hand up. “Or do you talk to everyone like that? Fine, it’s a date. Are you coming?”

Aspasia liked this new boldness, whether it was fuelled by alcohol or not. 

“Yes, we could go on a date, but it would be a waste of time,” she said. Kassandra stared down at her, her face slack with confusion. “One date leads to another. We’d go on two, three, four, but the result would be the same. It’s a waste of my time and your money. We both want the same thing.” 

She pretended to fix one of her lapels, then lay her palm against Kassandra’s chest, then slid it up to the top of her shoulder. “What are you doing tonight?” 

“Nothing,” she said.

“Then we can share a drink at my apartment. Perhaps we could get to know each other on a more intimate level.” 

“Oh,” Kassandra muttered, flushing from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. 

The door burst open, and Kassandra took a quick step back. Roxana looked past her, and her shoulders sagged with relief. 

“Aspasia, there you are. The tab has run empty,” she said.

“Already?” Aspasia folded her arms. “What does this have to do with me?” 

“Well, I was wondering if we should replenish the company card,” said Roxana. "It's what we usually do."

“It’s been four hours. There are less than two hundred people here, and we had ten thousand euros behind the bar. If they still want to drink like fish, they can reach into their own pockets,” Aspasia ordered. Roxana accepted with a silent nod and left again.

“I’m taking this as my cue to leave. I’m going to call an Uber. There’ll be another waiting for you in half an hour. Leave as quietly as you can.”

She made her way out, throwing insincere cheek kisses and excuses to the board until her car arrived. She hurried in and closed the door, fully separating herself from the function. Her nerves kicked into action as the car rolled away, removed from Kassandra’s proximity. She was alone with her choice now. 

She’d been with this company less than a month. It was the kind of position she’d always wanted, and now she was risking everything. What was to stop Kassandra going straight to HR, or worse, to the other managers? People might’ve struggled to believe her, but the seed of scandal would be planted, and whispers would surely follow. 

Too late now. She let her head rest against the seat and watched the street lights pass by. She thought of the hours, days, years she’d put into building her career, only to risk it all for a night with one woman. But they were years she’d spent with Perikles, inundated with work, neglecting her own needs. Now her desire had broken through the ice, and she was powerless to stop it.

When she arrived home, she made straight for the liquor cabinet and knocked back a generous measure of whisky, straight from the bottle. She leaned against the table and rubbed her temples, trying not to drown in the stress. 

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. The Uber was on its way. Aspasia had put all this thought into her not coming, with little consideration for the possibility that she would. 

Time slipped by her as she paced around the apartment, feeling strangely vulnerable. She married Perikles when she was nineteen years old. She’d been with women before then, but they were poor choices from what she believed to be a small dating pool. It occurred to her that she never had a lover that she truly wanted, never like this. 

Without realising, she’d become breathless. The buzzer’s ring caught her off guard. She pushed her trepidation aside and opened the door, where Kassandra towered over her in the frame. She stepped aside to let her in. The automatic lock clicked loudly behind her. 

“I take it I’m not here for a meeting,” said Kassandra with a smirk. After the rush of emotions, the last thing Aspasia could take was a joke. How could she answer it? What could she say for herself? She had to rely on her actions. She pushed her against the wall and kissed her hard. Her hands snaked under her suit jacket, around the firm warmth of her core. 

Kassandra kissed her harder in response, again and again, with growing intensity. She dipped to kiss Aspasia’s neck. 

“I’ll do anything you want me to,” she whispered. Aspasia’s arousal flared like a newly stoked flame.

Fuck me, she so desperately wanted to say, but she had to remind herself who was in charge.  

“Take this off.” She took a fistful of Kassandra’s shirt. 

She obliged, pulling her shoulders free from her blazer to rush it down her arms. It dropped unceremoniously to the floor as she went to work undoing her buttons. Aspasia watched the way her fingers moved, already anticipating how they would feel between her thighs. 

“No need to hurry,” she said, running her finger down the trail of bare skin. Kassandra flushed at the attention, but she slowed her movements until she finally took her shirt off. She slipped out of her sports bra a little prematurely, but there was no reason to complain.

Her body was beautiful. Her chest was broad and muscular, leading down to the tender skin of her breasts, hardened nipples at their peaks. Clearly, she’d worked hard for this physique, and every minute had paid off. The contrast of her topless body against her formal trousers was stark and enticing. Aspasia wanted to see her thick thighs, but that would have to wait. She wanted to take her time. 

She hooked her fingers around the loops of her belt and led her to the bedroom, and Kassandra allowed herself to be pulled. She took Kassandra by the hips and pushed her onto the bed. She was so strong, yet she sprawled herself backwards as if she’d been thrown. Aspasia stood over her, reaching for the back of her own dress. She pulled her zip down and slipped free from it, stripping down to her underwear. She unclasped her bra and dropped it. 

Kassandra watched her, awestruck, unable to keep her eyes up. Aspasia was used to being revered, after years of modelling, but the sight of Kassandra beneath her, weak with admiration gave her a new rush of power. She manoeuvred herself onto her lap, pressing against her firm stomach. She took Kassandra by the neck, forcing her attention upwards. She ran her thumb along the edge of her jaw, then pressed it against her lips. Their eyes locked as Kassandra took its tip into her mouth and bit it gently.

That was it. Aspasia’s desire spilled over, and she could no longer keep her composure. She kissed her with hunger. Kassandra’s touch ran up her naked back and she pulled her in closer. They kissed each other with matching hunger, letting seconds melt into minutes.

Strong hands moved up her thighs, and her breath hitched as they found their grip at the top. Aspasia needed more. She needed to be held tighter, to be fucked. She needed release.
Kassandra slid her fingers down to the gap between their thighs, pressing gently against Aspasia’s sex. The wet fabric rubbed against her sensitive skin, soaking through to her lover’s fingers. Kassandra let out a tender sigh, thrilled by her eagerness. 

Aspasia felt her entire body loosen. She stood only to pull free her underwear before she resumed her position on Kassandra’s lap. Kassandra took the signal and slipped her hand through the wetness, drawing firm circles around her clit. Aspasia sank into Kassandra’s neck. She braced herself, wrapping her arms tightly against her muscled back, dragging her nails across the surface of her skin. 

Kassandra gently lifted her face to kiss her. Aspasia knew she must have looked a mess, her hair tousled, her lipstick slightly smudged, but she couldn’t find it within herself to care. All she could focus on was the filthy rhythm of her practiced hands, the pleasure building with every teasing stroke. Their kisses got progressively messier, shattered by ragged moans. 

She gasped as two fingers slipped inside her. Kassandra watched her intensely, enjoying the display. She curled her fingers slightly, letting them drag against her walls. The sensation drove her wild, and she rocked against her, riding her fingers. Her lover pushed into the rhythm, doubling the pleasure. Aspasia held on for dear life, her grip tightening around her broad back. She took a handful of Kassandra’s hair and yanked it, forcing a sharp gasp out her. Kassandra watched her with such adoration, and Aspasia held her gaze, breaking it only when the pleasure became unbearable.

Her climax came as a shock, as though she’d been struck by lightning. Kassandra reluctantly slowed her fingers, laying gentle kisses against her jaw until she eventually pulled them free. It was too soon, embarrassingly so. Her lover knew, but had the tact not to comment. Aspasia couldn’t let this pause hang in the air. She gripped the straps of Kassandra’s belt, pulling them free from their buckle. She tossed it to the floor, then made short work of the zip. 

She felt her strong arms, from her thick wrists to her capped shoulders. She pushed her onto her back, and a breath escaped Kassandra as she hit the mattress. Aspasia pulled the trousers free to expose her black boxers, clinging tightly to her thick thighs. 

And then Aspasia took her turn, repaying Kassandra for every second of hard work.

Chapter Text

Kassandra woke to unfamiliar surroundings. There were satin pillows under her face, and a crisp duvet around her shoulders. Over the black surface of the bedside table, through the window, the shadow of the Parthenon cut through the morning sun. 

She turned to find the space next to her empty, and she wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not. Aspasia was already up. She wouldn’t have to pretend to be asleep until she figured out what to say, but she didn’t have the option of slipping away quietly either. She would only have to answer for it on Monday morning anyway, and she could hardly risk this coming up in her annual review.

Her phone rang, buzzing muffled through the sheets. Kassandra found it, then answered without looking. A mistake. 

“Where on earth did you end up?” Her mother’s voice came through the speaker. 

“Oh God, I’m sorry.” Kassandra rubbed her eyes. “I erm, I got too drunk and had to crash at Gelon’s.” Myrrine huffed in response. 

“You ought to be more mindful. Party or not, you still work with these people.”

Kassandra cracked up laughing. If only she knew the truth of it. 

“I’ve never been anything short of professional,” she said. 

“If you say so. Well, there’s food to be warmed up here, if you do decide to come home.” 

“I won’t be long. See you later,” she said, and gladly ended the call. 

Sometimes Myrrine seemed to forget that she was a grown adult. Kassandra had been far worse during her university years, and she let her get on with it, but since the incident with Thaletas, she’d taken to worrying. She tried not to take it personally. 

There were more pressing matters, after all. She had to find her clothes. 

Shit, she thought, cupping her mouth with her hand. Are they still in the hallway? She picked up her trousers from the floor and hopped back into them, and thankfully she spotted her shirt and jacket, folded neatly at the end of the bed. She changed into last night’s clothes, took her phone, a deep breath, then made her way out. 

She found Aspasia at the dining table, reading through a ring binder full of graphs. She snapped it shut as she walked in.

“Good morning,” she said, rising to her feet to greet her. “Take a seat.”

“What is this, a job interview?” Kassandra asked with a smirk. There was a joke to be made about changing positions, but she knew better than to make it. 

“Sorry. I am not familiar with these…situations. Morning-afters,” said Aspasia. It was understandable. Kassandra knew from her press release research that she was only 19 when she married. 

“I am,” said Kassandra. “They’re only ever awkward. Don’t worry yourself.” 

“Hm,” Aspasia mumbled, unassured. “Did you sleep well?” 

“I did. Yourself?”

“There are times when I want to stay in bed, today being one of them, but my body has other ideas. I wake at six, and once I’m awake, I have to be up. I can’t stand to do nothing.”

“We could always go back,” Kassandra flirted, leaning back towards the door. “I’m sure we could find a way to occupy ourselves.” 

“How you’ve changed, since we met.” Aspasia folded her arms beneath a wry smile, then walked through to the kitchen. “I think I preferred you bashful. It was endearing.” 

“Sorry to disappoint.”

As the flat was open-plan, Kassandra’s chair gave her a good viewpoint of the apartment. As she watched Aspasia walk into the kitchen, she noticed it was unusually clean. The entire apartment was. It was well-decorated and pristine, but it didn’t look like anybody lived in it. It was like a show home. The only signs of life were a copy of the Economist on the arm of the living room chair, and a bin that was brimming with takeaway boxes. Her boss was doing everything but taking care of herself, it seemed. 

“I think it’s only right that I bring you one, for once.” Aspasia’s voice interrupted her observations. She returned to the table with two cups of coffee, sliding one over to Kassandra.

“How you’ve changed!” Kassandra teased.

“You are a guest in my home, and I am treating you as such. Don’t expect it at the office.” 

Kassandra knocked it back, grateful for the caffeine. There was no sugar, which made it a bitter surprise, but she wasn’t going to bring it up. She held not just a mug, but a ground-breaking first, and a critique would only spoil the occasion. 

“Last night was,” Aspasia paused.

“Amazing,” Kassandra answered. 

“Reckless. I certainly don’t regret it, but we took a huge risk. I took a risk, to do it after the company social. If anybody were to find out, it would be curtains for both of us,” said the Director. You can’t tell a soul. I would be lucky to escape with my dignity intact. The company would probably promote an idiot to replace me, and you’d be quietly replaced.”  

Kassandra’s thinking gave way to silence. She really couldn’t have chosen a worse person to sleep with. 

There was always work for people like Aspasia, but marketers were in oversupply and Kassandra only had a few months of experience. She played a huge role in the new branding, but a prospective employer probably wouldn’t believe her. She only got this job because Gelon had taken a liking to her in the interview. It would take months to find another one, and she didn’t have that sort of time. Jobless was also penniless, and she couldn’t leave her mother struggling to pay the bills again. 

But she’d never met anyone like this. Kassandra had never been shy around a woman until the day they met. The first time their eyes met, it was as though she’d been struck by lightning. If there was a woman worth risking everything for, it could only be this one. If she walked away from this, she would never stop questioning it. For now, she had no idea where they stood, and she couldn’t break the discomfort to ask. 

Kassandra stood to take her mug back to the kitchen. She noticed it was unusually clean, but the bin was brimming. She had beautiful granite worktops and all manner of smart appliances, but clearly never used them. 

“Do you want something to eat?” Aspasia asked, noticing her attention. “I’ll order something in.”

“You don’t cook much?” Kassandra asked, already knowing the answer.

“Admittedly I don’t know how, and I don’t have the time to learn,” she said. “I certainly don’t have time in the evenings.” 

“It’s alright, I need to head home. There’s food from last night that I never got to.”

“I’ll drive you.” 

Kassandra had never been in such an expensive car before. As she approached it, she expected firm leather seats with just enough give to be comfortable. Perhaps a fancy steering wheel, with a polished logo in the centre, but she was surprised by what she found. The steering wheel wasn’t a full circle, it was only to be gripped at the sides, like those on the racing machines at the arcade. The seats had two holes in the back to accommodate a double seatbelt, with the buckle between her legs, just like the rollercoasters.

It was perfectly suitable for Aspasia, who drove like a maniac. She seethed at the city traffic, and when they finally reached the motorway, she went straight to the outside lane and hit 145kph. 

The car’s aerodynamics meant there was no room for a handle above the passenger window, and Kassandra yearned in its absence. 

“Malaka!” Aspasia shouted as the car slowed sharply, encountering a motorist who dared to travel at the speed limit. “What’s the point of driving in the outside lane if you won’t put your foot down?” 

Kassandra leaned against the door, concealing her amusement behind her hand.  

“This exit here,” she said, pointing to the signs. 

They pulled into a dicier part of Greater Athens, untouched by tourists and foreign money. It was hard not to find a wall covered in graffiti. Apartment tower blocks loomed over them. 

“Just here,” Kassandra pointed her to the car park. “I understand if you don’t want to stop here long.”

“You’re embarrassed. Don’t be,” said Aspasia, pulling into a wide space. “I grew up in a neighbourhood not unlike this one. People may turn their noses up at you, especially at work. But don’t ever be ashamed of it.” 

“Thank you,” she said. The statement demanded a better response, but she came up short. 

“Enjoy your weekend,” said Aspasia. Kassandra closed the door. The engine kicked into action again, and she set off quickly, taking the corner back to the main road far too quickly. 

“Drive safe,” Kassandra sighed. 

Her mother waited in the kitchen. 

“That wasn’t Gelon’s car,” she said, folding her arms. “Where have you been?”

“Good morning to you too!” Kassandra joked. “God, you’re nosy. Have you been curtain twitching again? Can’t you just watch television like a normal mother?”

“You’re in yesterday’s clothes, you arrived in a sports car, and now you’re being smug,” said Myrrine. “For the love of God, tell me you didn’t fuck that boss of yours.” It was so on the nose that Kassandra couldn’t deny it quickly enough. Hesitation hastened the grave. “Kassandra! How old is this woman?” 

“Not that much older than me,” said Kassandra. “Hardly a big deal.” 

“She was a politician’s wife, Kassandra. She wouldn’t be where she is if she didn’t know how to protect her reputation. Just be careful, will you? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Kassandra had no answer. She dumped her jacket on the back of a chair and opened the fridge. Her eyes skimmed over the leftovers and snacks, but she couldn’t find an appetite. 

“I’m going to get showered and changed,” she said, closing the door again. “Don’t worry yourself about me.” Myrrine’s eyes followed her, unconvinced, as she made her way into the dimly lit hallway.

***

On Monday, she was surprised to find Gelon in the office before her. She was at her desk sulking, resting her head on top of her folded arms. 

“You’re in early,” said Kassandra, as she dumped her bag and switched her computer on. “If you’re trying to impress people, you’ll get nowhere acting like that.” 

“We ended up in the club after you left, and I drank far too much. If I didn’t get up when I did this morning, I would have never made it in,” said her supervisor. 

“That was on Friday,” said Kassandra. “How are you still rough?”

“Wait until you get to this age. The hangovers start, and they don’t stop. How old are you again?”

“Twenty-seven,” said Kassandra. 

“You’re overdue then,” Gelon warned. 

Kassandra spotted something, a little black box on Kleon’s desk with a blue and purple glint in the centre. 

“Ha! Gelon, look at this!” She pointed at it, ducking away from its field of vision. “Kleon’s got CCTV now!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” said Gelon, peering around her monitor. “He’s just repurposed a webcam.” 

“No match for me.” Kassandra gutted a tissue box, then lowered its hole over the device. She took her rewards from the drawer. 

“If he’s taking it that seriously, can’t you just stop? We don’t want him whinging any more than he does.”
 
She could never apologise for causing Kleon stress. He came and went as he liked, but in the short time he was around, he more than made up for his absence. He spoke to them like servants, overburdened them with little notice, and generally managed them terribly. Aspasia’s arrival lit a fire under him, but it took less than a fortnight to get back to his old habits. 

“Why didn’t you just unplug it?” Gelon asked, staring at the tissue box. 

“It’s still early. Come on, let’s go and get coffees.” 

The kitchen was the home of conversation, even before opening hours. It was the only lively place on a Monday morning, as the usual suspects would gather to discuss the week’s events and conspiracies. Odessa, Roxana and Barnabas were already several minutes into their weekly session, by the looks of it. 

“Morning all,” said Kassandra. 

“Barnabas, tell them what you told me,” said Odessa with a wicked grin. 

“Aspasia’s expenses were left on my desk this morning. Our friend Odessa is in a frenzy, because the boss expensed two Ubers home, not one,” he said. 

Shit. Kassandra swallowed thickly. The CIA, the KGB and MI6 were all in the mud. Not a single agency in the world could compete with the diligence of office gossips. 

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Are we sure it’s not a duplicate receipt?” asked Roxana. 

“No. I mean yes. One of them was at 10:53, the other at 11:20. They had slightly different journey times, slightly different prices. It had to be another person,” said Barnabas. 

“And the destination was the same?” Asked Gelon. Barnabas nodded. “My goodness.”

The air was ripe with mischief. Gelon and Odessa smiled like they were in on the world’s biggest secret. Barnabas looked tired, probably by the interrogation, and Roxana seemed to be mulling it over. 

“Are we sure she didn’t just forget something?” asked Roxana. 

“You know how urgent everything is with her. She would have messaged me or you, and she would have gone back to the function. Both Ubers went the same way,” said Odessa. “Someone went to her apartment, and she didn’t want to be seen leaving with them.” 

“If there was a story behind it, would she really have put it through expenses though?” asked Gelon. “Seems fucking stupid to me.” 

“You’d be surprised, Gelon. The board put all kinds of things through. Bottles of whisky, wine, even bottles of perfume that clearly aren’t for them,” said Barnabas. 

It was hard to find an innocent explanation. The receptionists were her first point of contact at the party, and anything urgent would have certainly gone through them. At 11:20, there was nothing that couldn’t wait until the morning, and the lack of return journeys only made things worse. 

“Sorry to ruin your little investigation, but it was me,” said Kassandra, hoping to throw them off the trail. “She wanted a decaf before bed, and you know whose job that is.”

“Oh fuck off Kassandra, be serious!” Odessa groaned. “So come on, who is it? Do you think it’s one of the investors?” 

“I don’t see why it would be,” said Roxana. “Surely, she’d want a break from old men. No offense, Barnabas.” 

“Hey, it could be me for all you know! I’m still limber!” Barnabas shouted, and moved his hips from side to side. The kitchen went up with laughter.

They were silenced by the approach of Aspasia’s footsteps. They were firm and powerful, honed by years on runways. It was a sound anybody could recognise, and it made most people want to hide. She arrived in the kitchen and halted, glancing over each of them, as they stood doing absolutely nothing. Their jaws went tight as they held in their laughter at the topic and joke that just passed. The only clear-headed one was Kassandra, who could only look on in concern. 

“Is this a meeting?” She asked. A classic line, straight from the handbook of annoying bosses. “Go on, I’m sure you’ve got jobs to be doing.”

They filtered out like naughty schoolchildren, exchanging looks of amusement. 

“We didn’t even get our coffee,” Gelon complained. 

“Whoever it was clearly didn’t do their job,” said Odessa. They laughed again, and Kassandra tried not to take offense visibly before they parted ways. 

Now she had a problem. Aspasia needed to know she’d made an error, but this was hardly Kassandra’s department, and she wasn’t supposed to know a thing about expenses. Barnabas, however, had a heart as big as his mouth, and the last thing she wanted was to get him in trouble. For all her secrecy, Aspasia had risked everything for the sake of twenty euros. It could only be a slip up.

But there were bigger issues. As Kassandra settled in to her chair, Gelon leaned over her, grabbing it at the back. 

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Gelon whispered menacingly. 

“No,” she said. “It was only a joke.” 

“Odessa is understandably barking up the wrong tree, but you don’t fool me. I’ve seen your Tinder.” Kassandra swivelled around to face her, laden with guilt. Her face must have said it all. “I knew it! You’re welcome for the assist, by the way.” 

“Assist?” Kassandra asked, baffled by her logic. 

“I’m the one who replied to her messages! I set that up for you! You certainly would have bottled it. I want every single detail.” 

“You’re not getting any of it,” Kassandra warned, “and you can’t tell anyone. Promise me you won’t say a single thing!”  

“Fine. I’ll keep your secret, even if you’re a fucking bore, but you owe me a drink.” Gelon would have to be happy with that. After all, there was a certain power they both shared, holding the most earth-shaking piece of gossip the office had ever known. 

Thankfully, Aspasia was barely around to make it awkward. She was in her office near constantly, and when she left, she would be with someone from senior management. Every time she walked past, she was flanked by men in suits. Often, when they left her side, they muttered amongst themselves. 

“This is going to slash our sales in half,” said the Director of Sales. “Quite possibly our revenue, if it doesn’t work.”

“The woman is a prima donna. What did I tell you a couple of years ago? Perikles wasn’t tough enough,” said Kleon. “Not tough enough on taxes, not tough enough on crime, not tough enough with those bastards in Brussels. Now we know he wasn’t tough enough on his wife, and God knows we’re paying the price.” 

The Sales Director laughed and clapped him on the arm before he walked away, leaving Kleon to return grudgingly to his desk. 

Monday bled through to Wednesday, and Aspasia didn’t spare her a glance. Their situation was delicate, but she still found herself missing the attention. The afternoon held a gift for her. Kassandra’s heart jumped as her phone rang. 

“Hello?” she answered. 

“My office,” said Aspasia, curt as ever. 

“Oh, hello to you too. Manners cost nothing, you know.” 

“And yet, you get paid to do as you’re told.” There was a hint of a smile in her voice, thank God. “My office, now.” 

Kassandra pushed the door open, checking over her back for unwelcome glances. But Barnabas was occupied with his reports, and reception was behind another set of doors. Gelon hadn’t even noticed that she’d left her desk. 

Aspasia was never one for small talk. 

“I’m going to Korinth this weekend. Two nights, leaving straight after work on Friday. I want you to come with me.” 

Kassandra blinked slowly.

“Okay,” she said. “What’s this for?”

“You might have noticed, but I’ve had some trouble getting strategies past the board. I’m visiting a friend, someone with a lot of experience with handling difficult personalities.”

“Business, then,” Kassandra leaned forward. “So, what do you need me for?”

“I only want your company. Consider it a friendly offer. You won’t be required for the discussion, but I think you should still come. It would be good for your,” she waved her hand, searching for a term, “professional development.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Kassandra joked. Aspasia rolled her eyes. "So you don't have time to go on a date, but you'll invite me away with you for the weekend?"

“We understand each other well enough. Are you coming or not?” 

***

She made a point of turning up late on Friday, hoping nobody would question her staying behind. Aspasia would arrive each day at 7:30, and usually wouldn’t leave until the wrong side of 6:00.
Kassandra, on the other hand, never stayed a minute past five, and with the receptionists on high alert, tracks needed to be covered. 

“What time do you call this?” Odessa laughed as she came through the doors, into the bright lights of the office. 

“10:13,” she said, checking her watch. 

“Don’t be surprised if the mood is rancid,” said Roxana. “Kleon’s just been in a conference room with Aspasia. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but it sounded like she was grilling him. Something about him being clueless.”

“How can I trust you with a campaign strategy if you don’t know what a keyword is,” said Odessa, lifting the pitch of her voice to mimic her. “That’s what I heard, anyway.”

“Great,” Kassandra sighed. It was a valid point, made at a very bad time. 

When she reached the department, Kleon stood over Gelon’s desk, bothering her about the layout of a report. 

“Good of you to finally join us,” he turned on Kassandra. “Why are you so late?” 

I didn’t think you’d notice was the answer, but she could never say it. 

“My bus was cancelled,” she said. 

“And your car?” he pressed. 

“I forgot it,” she said quickly. “At the garage, of course.” 

“Don’t let this happen again,” he said, pointing a stubby finger. “You make the department look bad. When the team looks bad, I look bad! You’re not the one who gets it in the neck, I am! Do you understand?” 

“Perfectly, Kleon,” she lied. “I’m sorry.”

He continued to rant. He had a tendency to project, and this time he was likely redirecting all of Aspasia’s criticisms onto them. Apparently she wasn’t responsive enough, she was constantly away from her desk, and her communication skills were lacking. Kassandra wasn’t sure whether to laugh or throw her chair at him, but she had to make do with quiet nods, as did Gelon. He finished as he usually did, with a trip to the kitchen, clutching his mug tightly enough to make his knuckles white. He was probably searching for a friend to badmouth her to. 

“Why are you actually late?” asked Gelon. “You never are, despite what that gorilla says.”  

“My car didn’t start,” Kassandra lied, after the time to form a better excuse. Gelon had been teasing her constantly, and if she knew what she was doing tonight, she would never hear the end of the jokes. 

The clock ticked on. Nobody in their right mind wanted to stay late on a Friday, so the office was empty by 5:30.  Aspasia ordered food to be delivered at 6, but it was 6:30 by the time she was finished.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said. “My unavailability at the weekend gave me a few more things to wrap up. Do you have everything you need, or do we need to stop by your flat?” 

“All in my bag,” Kassandra said, lifting her rucksack. 

“That’s all you’ve brought?” She narrowed her eyes. “That’s supposed to last you the weekend?”

“Two changes of clothes and toiletries, yes.”

“Kassandra, there’s a suitcase in my car. Perhaps you could teach me how to pack light.”

“I feel like if you called it an audit, you’d get along better,” Kassandra joked. She expected Aspasia to give her another harsh look or make a retort, but she accepted the idea with a shrug. Maybe she really was growing on her. 

***

She’d booked them a large suite at a luxury seaside resort, one of the few places in town to accommodate expensive tastes. The bedroom was enormous, with an en-suite and a separate lounge and kitchen. Sliding doors opened to a wooden terrace, which led out over the light blue sea. 

When Kassandra dropped her bag, she wanted to stay for a whole week. It seemed wasteful only to stay two nights. Aspasia was unfazed, already emptying the contents of her suitcase. Her bedside table was already covered in beauty products and fragrances, and then she moved on to the wardrobe. She hung up outfit after outfit, and it then became apparent why her suitcase was so full. 

“Aren’t you going to unpack?” she asked. 

“No point,” said Kassandra. She rifled through her bag, checking she had everything she needed, as if it would do her any good at this stage. 

Each had their judgemental thoughts about the other, but for now at least they had the decency to keep them silent. 

“Do you want anything from room service?” Aspasia asked. “I still need a drink.” 

“I’m alright,” she answered, on her way to the en-suite. “I’m going to get a shower, and no, you can’t join me.” 

“Fuck off!" Aspasia called after her. 

Kassandra laughed to herself as she closed the door. 

No matter where, showers were reflective places. Once she got used to the temperature settings, she took a moment to wonder what on earth she was doing. Any other Friday, she would be on her third or fourth round by now, but instead she was in a hotel with her boss. What would she say, if she could speak to herself six months ago? Was this an odd way of climbing the ladder, or was Aspasia just using her? She smirked at the thought. There were worse ways to be used. If she was going to throw her self-respect in the bin, she wanted to do it properly. 

She stepped out and dried herself off, and decided to change only into her Calvin Klein boxers. She had no intention of looking like a drowned rat, so she dried her hair, then pulled the complimentary bathrobe around her body, tying it loosely to leave it open down the middle. 

When she left the bathroom, there was a martini at the bedside table, with beads of condensation on the outside of the glass. Aspasia hadn't touched it. She was busy having a fight with the bedroom television. She prodded the remote aggressively, muttering something under her breath at every change of channel. Nothing seemed to be good enough to tolerate for more than five seconds. When she noticed Kassandra, she turned it off. 

“What’s this all about?” she asked. She pointed up and down with the end of the remote before she tossed it aside. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kassandra lied. 

“You went to the effort of drying your hair, yet you’re only half dressed,” she said knowingly, closing the distance between them. “Did you think I would fall into your arms?”

“It was worth a try,” said Kassandra with a shrug.  

“You’ve gotten far too arrogant,” said her boss. She pulled the belt away and pushed the robe over her shoulders to the floor. A rush of cold air fell over her skin. “Tell me exactly what you want from me. I want to hear you say it.” 

“I want to fuck you,” said Kassandra, rising to the challenge. “I want to make you come again, and see you let loose.”

“Then you should have enjoyed it while it lasted,” Aspasia taunted, and then her voice turned sharp. “Lie down for me.” 

She obeyed without hesitation. Aspasia followed her across the bed. She placed herself on Kassandra’s hips, then took her by the wrists. She lifted them to the headboard and secured them tightly with the belt she’d taken.

Kassandra’s heart raced with the thrill. Aspasia leaned back to appreciate the sight, then returned to her with a firm kiss. 

“If you want to stop, you only need to say so,” she said. 

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Kassandra meant to say, but her breathlessness forced it out in a whisper. 

They kissed again, and Aspasia brought her hands back down her arms, across her muscled torso, and moved herself down with them. She took her Calvin’s by the waistline and pulled. Kassandra lifted her hips, allowing them to be taken off. 

Aspasia climbed off the bed and returned to her feet, but her stare never broke. 

“Now then,” she trailed her finger down the line of Kassandra’s torso. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Whatever you want,” she said. 

Aspasia was pleased with her answer. Her hand reached the dark curls between her thighs, and dipped to find her already wet. 

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” she said, rubbing her clit slowly. “I’m going to take everything I want from you.” 

Kassandra’s breath hitched as she pulled her hand away. She could only watch in quiet frustration as Aspasia turned her back, and took her time sipping her drink. 

She was between two minds. She was ruled by this woman all week, every week. To be dominated by her in the bedroom added insult to injury. But it had awakened something in her. The women she’d been with had wanted her to take charge, understandably, and she’d never given much thought to the other side of the coin. But Aspasia was so comfortable with power. Her voice alone was enough to make her weak at the knees.  

The Director returned to the bed at her leisure, and tilted Kassandra’s head to kiss her. She could still taste the gin on her lips, but their closeness alone was intoxicating. Aspasia turned her attention downwards, trailing kisses from her neck to her collarbone. She took her nipple in her mouth and bit it gently, and Kassandra could no longer contain her moan. She took the other with her hand, rolling it between her thumb and her finger. 

The teasing went on for what felt like forever, until Aspasia finally worked her way down. She pushed her legs apart and wrapped her arms around her thighs, kissing and biting at the skin as she made her way down to the aching centre. Kassandra’s breath quickened as she drew closer and closer, and she became dizzy with anticipation as her blood rushed south. 

Her tongue was hot against her, pressing hard with a broad stroke. The mixture of pleasure and relief stunned her, leaving her too dazed to keep her eyes open. Aspasia moved her tongue so tantalisingly slowly, deliberately dragging it across her flushed clit. Her pleasure welled with every stroke. Aspasia moaned softly as she quickened her pace. The hum sent welcome vibrations, adding a new sensation to the pleasure. Before long, Kassandra was panting like she’d run a marathon. She would have given anything for it not to end, but as Aspasia closed her lips around her clit, switching between sucking and licking, she knew it was only a matter of time. 

When she looked down, it was the sight that pushed her over the edge. Aspasia’s face between her legs, buried from the bridge of her nose down, her eyes closed in shameless indulgence. It was a pity she couldn’t last to appreciate it. Her back arched, forcing the back of her head to her pillow as she came, but Aspasia was unrelenting. She tightened her grip and held down her hips, pressing harder as Kassandra throbbed against her tongue. 

She cried out, overwhelmed with pleasure, entirely at her lover’s mercy. The torment only stopped when she was reduced to whimpers, and Aspasia withdrew with a cruel smile.  She stayed there to watch her for a moment, admiring the aftermath of her work. 

“Take a minute to catch your breath,” she said, stroking the length of her thigh. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

The words set Kassandra’s insides on fire. It was going to be a long weekend.

Chapter Text

When the nights rolled around, Aspasia’s inbox would follow her into bed. When she closed her eyes, she could still see a growing list of subject lines, her mangled calendar, and the growing pile of approval papers waiting for her scrutiny. She never settled down, only waited for sleep to drag her under, and the morning always came too soon. 

Bed simply wasn’t the same retreat for her as it was for most people. Now, for the second time, she shared it with Kassandra. After their first encounter, the younger woman kept her distance. She’d turned onto her side and stayed respectfully in her own half. Tonight, she was bolder, edging closer to the centre, and resting her hand tentatively on Aspasia’s hip. 

She had no intention of cuddling. It was too close, too intimate, too loving. But she’d put the woman through her paces. When she said she’d take everything she wanted, she meant it. She lost count of how many times she made her climax, louder and messier each time. She fucked her to the brink of exhaustion, but Kassandra took it beautifully. 

If she wanted to hold her for a moment, it was a fair reward. She took her hand and pulled it across her body, drawing her in. Perhaps it was a moment of weakness, but once Kassandra moved in, and the warm touch of her bare skin spread across her back,

Aspasia was powerless to stop it. The contact made her feel ten times lighter, and she felt safe in her arms.

Probably some evolutionary nonsense that needs to be done away with, she reasoned.

And just like that, she drifted off to the best sleep she’d had in years.  

When she woke, it was no wonder Kassandra was still asleep. She caught sight of the robe belt, its base still attached the headboard, and smiled at the memory. Then, she saw the time, and shot upright. 

“Jesus, it’s 10:19,” she said. She threw the duvet aside, and her corner landed unceremoniously on Kassandra’s face. 

“What time are we supposed to go?” she mumbled. 

“I said we'd be there for 2PM.” 

Kassandra groaned, rubbed her own face like an otter, then flopped back onto her side. 

Thankfully, she was much quicker to get ready than Aspasia, who needed to coordinate her outfit, style the waves in her hair, and apply her makeup. With half an hour to spare, Kassandra simply rolled out of bed, braided her hair loosely, and threw on a shirt and jeans. She still looked stunning, and Aspasia forced herself not to be resentful.

*** 

“You still haven’t told me who we’re going to see,” said Kassandra, as they stopped at a red light. Her window was all the way open, and she let her arm hang out of the side, always finding inventive new ways to slouch. 

“Don’t leave handprints on my car door, Kassandra,” said Aspasia. “If you do, I will leave one of my own.”

“Oh sorry,” she said sardonically. “Leaving handprints, wearing bathrobes, whatever will my next crime be?” 

“You knew what you were doing, and now you’ve been warned.” Aspasia pulled a hand from the steering wheel to point. 

“Have you ever heard the old adage about threatening people with a good time?” Kassandra jabbed. 

Aspasia rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help cracking a smile. 

“We're going to see a woman named Anthousa. We’ve been friends for a very long time. She’s dealt with very difficult personalities over the years, and she’s just the person to advise me on the board.”

“That Anthousa?” Kassandra baulked. “Anthousa the supermodel?”

“That’s right,” she said. It was easy to forget just how famous people were. Where Aspasia left modelling behind, Anthousa carried on and became a star. She was slightly older than Aspasia, and any other model would have been nearing the end of their shelf life, but she was never lacking in bookings. "She also runs a huge agency."

“If I’d known, I would have dressed better, but why are you bringing me? In the nicest way possible, of course.” 

Because Anthousa had always been wise beyond her years. Aspasia could read people very well, but Anthousa truly understood them. She could walk into any room, and leave an hour later with a detailed profile of the people around her, the way they operated, and what they wanted. She was the best judge of character around. But Aspasia couldn’t rightly tell Kassandra that it was an informal vetting process. 

“When I said this trip would help your professional development, I wasn’t being euphemistic. Anthousa is a good person to know. Connections are just as important as hard work, where careers are concerned.” 

Kassandra’s ringtone interrupted them. She fished the phone from her pocket and sighed, muting the tone. 

“Who is it?” 

“It’s my mother.”

“You should answer it,” said Aspasia. “What if it’s important?”

“It never is. She usually calls me asking me what her passwords are because she’s forgotten them. She knows I won’t answer, anyway. She thinks I’m at a hen party for a Uni friend that doesn’t exist. But everything demands a phone call. You know what mothers are like.” 

Not really, Aspasia thought, but didn’t say. Her own parents had been inattentive, and they hadn’t spoken in years. She turned the car up the winding roads to the hills, for once slowing down to a sensible speed.

“You shouldn’t lie to her,” she said, acutely aware of her own hypocrisy. If she hadn’t lied to her own parents, she probably wouldn’t have been driving this car. “Not if you can help it.”

“Sometimes I don’t have a choice,” said Kassandra. “She warned me about you, you know. When the Aston pulled up, and I got out, she knew exactly what had happened. She’d kill me if she knew where I was.” She complained, but there was a fondness beneath it.

“I suppose I won’t be coming over for Christmas, then,” Aspasia offered a rare joke. Kassandra smirked and shook her head.

“Definitely not.” 

Finally, they arrived at Anthousa’s villa. It was a large white building with a flawless terracotta roof. It boasted several stories, sprawling verdant gardens with palm trees, and a pool underlit by bright lights. 

“This is nice,” Kassandra commented, eyeing their destination as they entered the driveway. “Just out of curiosity, where does Anthousa keep her silverware?” 

“In the kitchen drawer, I’d imagine,” Aspasia said. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m far richer than her, and all of my cutlery is from IKEA.”

“Wow,” Kassandra scoffed. “You’re so down to earth. Next you’ll be telling me you shop at ALDI, and that you got your Louboutin’s from the charity shop.” 

“Why are you so intent on winding me up?” Aspasia demanded to know. Kassandra shrugged.  

“Because nobody else will.” 

Aspasia had to scoff at that. If only she could see the state of her meetings. 

“Get out of the car, and behave,” she said. Kassandra gave her one last grin before she pulled her door handle. 

They made their way to the front door, and Aspasia rang the bell. After a few long seconds, it clicked open, and there stood Anthousa. She looked the same every time they met. She wore a trademark red Gucci dress. As she smiled, Aspasia could see that she still hadn’t aged, but as their eyes scanned over each other, she could tell her friend was thinking the same thing.

“Aspasia!” She threw her arms open and pulled her in for a hug. “It has been far too long.” 

“Agreed.” 

“So, who might you be?” Anthousa pulled back, quickly turning to the new guest. 

“I’m Kassandra,” she introduced herself, “I’m-“

“My personal assistant,” Aspasia interrupted to throw down a gauntlet. 

“Your personal assistant, I see.” Anthousa smiled knowingly, and rested her hand on Kassandra’s arm. “What an incredible personal assistant you must be, since our friend here can’t stand them. And she lets you dress so casually, too! She must like you very much.” The reaction was exactly what Aspasia had expected. She’d sniffed them out in roughly thirty seconds. 

“I think she does,” Kassandra said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement. 

“See, Kassandra, you might have noticed that Aspasia has a bad habit of taking people for fools, myself included. So, how long has this gone on for?” 

“I never doubted you,” said Aspasia. “A week.” 

“A whirlwind romance, then. How exciting! Do come in,” said Anthousa, leading them through the hallway. 

It was certainly a whirlwind, but the word romance hit a snag. Whether it was more or less than that, Aspasia wasn’t sure, but she was in no position to correct her. 

“I feel very judged,” Kassandra whispered, as their host walked ahead of them. “Is she always like this?”

“She means well,” Aspasia replied, “but yes.”

She led them through into the lounge, and it was a room Aspasia knew well. Where her own apartment was sleek and minimalist, their host’s was grand and theatrical. Dark wood furniture, stark red chesterfields, and a flattened bear rug. Plated awards and prints of magazine features were displayed across the walls.  It had vanity written all over it, but that was Anthousa’s currency. 

The décor didn’t shock her like it did Kassandra, whose eyes were darting all over the place. Aspasia had spent countless evenings here, chatting over glasses of wine, strategizing over brochures and brands. 

“This villa used to belong to the CEO of the first agency we worked for. Anthousa went on to buy it from him, and she took over the company,” Aspasia explained, for Kassandra’s benefit. “She bought all his shares and ousted him.”

“Where do you work, Kassandra?” asked the Gucci-clad usurper. 

“I work at Kosmos, actually,” she answered. “I’m a Junior Marketing Executive.”  Anthousa seemed just as surprised by the lowly title as the workplace, but she did well to keep her expression guarded.  

“Perhaps one day, you can buy Aspasia’s shares and kick her out too. She needs humbling,” said Anthousa. Kassandra laughed, and her shoulders were much lower when they settled. The joke seemed to put her at ease.

“The shares will be too expensive by the time I’m finished,” said the Director. 

“I’ll buy them, then. Finance is awfully dull, and you’ll always be wanted in the fashion business. If we worked together again now, God knows we’d be unstoppable,” Anthousa prodded her shoulder. “Although, if you were to make a sizeable investment in this company before you left, that would be most welcome.”

“I could buy it, if I wanted to.” Aspasia said. 

“See,” Anthousa lifted a hand and turned to Kassandra. “Very in need of humbling.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Kassandra rested her hands on her hips. “Her cutlery is from IKEA, you know. She told me.” 

“Oh, she knows your secrets, Aspasia!” The supermodel laughed. “This is a good start. She wasn’t always like this, you know.” 

Anthousa loved to tell a story, and as she invited them to sit down, she didn’t hesitate to start on the tales of their illustrious careers. “We were just sixteen, when we first met, each with our own shitty situation to get out of. I won’t go into it, of course.” She uncorked a bottle of wine, the dust around its neck marking it as a vintage. “With our meagre wages, we were able to afford a shitty rental on the outskirts of Athens. Full of black mold, and you couldn’t swing a cat in there, but it motivated us.”

“We worked hard,” Aspasia interjected, politely waving her hand to refuse a glass. “Long days in the gym, awful, tasteless food. We didn’t drink alcohol for several years.” 

“Long shifts too,” Anthousa went on. “We spent hours and hours just standing, wearing ridiculous dresses while people stuck pins in them. Hours and hours retouching makeup, drastic costume changes on very limited time. The agencies treated us like we were subhuman. Shipping us around like cargo, not giving us time to sleep, underpaying us. Not everybody is cut out for it, of course.” 

“You were good at it though,” Kassandra noted, accepting a shallow measure. “Both of you were.”

“The very best,” said Anthousa, raising the bottle. “I created a very successful career and took over the agency. I was happy with that, but it wasn’t enough for our friend here. Aspasia moved into politics and finance, apparently intent on taking over the world.” 

In truth, it was a matter of narrative and numbers. Anthousa took the bull of industry by its horns, and carved a fine story for herself. She climbed the ladder to the very top, and chased her old boss off her stage. Understandably, she was happy with that. Aspasia, on the other hand, was driven by metrics. She didn’t care about modelling, only the numbers in her bank account. She wanted to be rich, and she wanted to be formidable. 

She charmed Perikles at a charity gala. When she married him, he gave her more in a month than she made in a year, but she had no intention of living off somebody else’s wealth. She piled her new money into the stock market, paying keen attention to the conversations in government. Her money multiplied, and soon she was a multi-millionaire in her own right. She invested more, in property, in gold, in offshore accounts. 

She kept the rest of the story to herself. White collar crime wasn’t something to wear on her sleeve.

“Enough about us,” said Anthousa. “What brought you into marketing?” 

“The same thing that brought you into modelling,” Kassandra confessed. “It’s a job. No child ever wakes up and says they want to be a marketer, do they?” 

“It would take a very strange child, indeed.” Anthousa said. 

“My mother was out of work for a very long time. She married my stepfather Nikolaos, he was a general in the military. We travelled a lot as kids, and she was out of work for a long time, because she could never keep a job for long enough. Things…fell through, and my brother Alexios and I had to kick him out. As a family, we were happier, but it left us in a tough financial situation. My mother is just now getting a lot of her qualifications. I wanted to be an athlete, but I had to help her pay the bills. I needed a full-time job, and Marketing was the first path that came up.” Kassandra sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She swilled her wine around at the bottom of her glass, holding it at the top. Her sleeves strained against her arms as she leaned, causing Aspasia a great distraction.

“Very noble, and very candid of you,” said Anthousa. “I’d half expected some bullshit about how it’s a modern, ever-changing field. Thank you for sparing us that.” 

“There’s no point in lying to you, you’ve proven as much,” said Kassandra with a mirthless smile. 

“It is a gruelling and competitive field, but I’m sure you’ll go far with a mentor like Aspasia,” she said. 

“Thank you,” Kassandra said, setting her glass down, poorly hiding her doubt. “I hope to make the best PowerPoints in the world. If you don’t mind, Anthousa, where is your bathroom?”  

“Down the hallway,” Anthousa pointed, suppressing her amusement. “Second door on the left.” 

They watched her walk away, and once she was out of earshot, Anthousa spoke freely. 

“I take it she’s more enthusiastic about you than she is about her work.”

“She sells herself short. She is talented, even if her attitude leaves something to be desired.” Aspasia clarified, but she was eager to cut to the chase. “What do you make of her?”

“The girl is after money, it’s understandable. But I think if she were after yours, she would keep her lack of enthusiasm very close to her chest. If I were her, I would have taken you to the cleaners already.” Anthousa said, and anybody could see she meant it.

“So would I. But she’s not like us.”

“A good thing, perhaps.” Anthousa leaned back into the arm of her chair. “But I understand you came here to discuss restructuring the company.” Aspasia confirmed with a nod.  “Then you already have prospective enemies. If anybody finds out about this little affair, you’re finished. The world of finance is unforgiving, especially towards women.”

“It’s all about reputation, I’m aware.” 

“I am genuinely glad to see you indulge for once, after all these years, but I would be no good friend if I didn’t warn you. Don’t for one second think the tabloids have forgotten you, Aspasia. For all those years, you carried a target on your back, but you gave them nothing to shout about. The moment you slip, they’ll be waiting in the wings.”

Anthousa didn’t need to say why. If they found out about the insider trading, people would call it typical. If they found out she was seeing a man so soon after her husband’s death, then eyebrows would be raised. If they found out she was seeing a woman, an employee, they would pounce. 

She wasn't here to fret. The first order of business was struck off, and she could now broach the subject that weighed on her the most. She explained the situation within the business, how the businesses they bought were too small, and how the clients they lent to never paid them back. They needed to elevate their positioning, but the board wouldn’t change their ways.

“They’re useless,” Aspasia concluded. “I need to get rid of them all, every last one of them, but I need to know how to avoid a mutiny.” 

It was then that Kassandra returned, blinking at them. The conversation was far from where she’d left it, but she was probably glad not to talk about her own field. 

“You can’t,” said Anthousa, continuing regardless. “If you throw them out en-masse, workers in every team are going to start looking elsewhere. If the board’s jobs aren’t safe, why would theirs be?”

“The biggest cogs are the ones that need replacing. I can poach others, people I’ve worked with, people I know are my own.” 

“Years around politics have gotten to your head. You sound like a tyrant.” 

“I am a tyrant," said Aspasia.  

“Can I get that in writing?” Kassandra asked. “I think it would be a great addition to the company newsletter. It’d look great on your LinkedIn profile, too.” If looks could kill, Aspasia would have ended her there, but Kassandra didn’t react. Anthousa’s lips curled inward as she stifled another laugh, but she quickly continued with business.

“Choose one of them, and make an example of them. That’s all you need to do,” said Anthousa. “The others will see that their status is no shield, and they’ll fall into line.” 

“It’s not ideal,” the Director admitted. “But you’re right. It’s only a shame I can’t bring you with me. You would be perfect to lead the Acquisitions team, you know.”

“If I can’t poach you, then you can’t poach me,” said the supermodel. “Besides, I’m happy where I am. I wouldn’t give this job up for the world.” 

They chatted for another couple of hours, sharing stories of the events that passed since their last meeting, and asked after old names. While Kassandra maintained interest for a while, and commented where she could, Aspasia was increasingly conscious of boring her. 

“I think it’s best we make a move,” she said. 

“You have plans this evening?” Anthousa stood, ready to see them off. “I won’t keep you, just don’t leave your next visit for so long.” 

“You could always come to Athens,” Aspasia said, as they sauntered back to the front door, “or better yet, move your offices there.” 

“Not a chance. Korinth is a city with a proud history. It is a city of love,” she boasted, pretentious as ever. 

Aspasia smiled into the open air. Wise as she was, Anthousa could be overly sentimental. Korinth was a city of hedonism in the distant past, but now, its heart was its trade port. 

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Kassandra,” said Anthousa. “If ever you need me, don’t be afraid to get in touch, and don’t let Aspasia boss you around. If she gives you any trouble, you tell me. Understood?”

Kassandra smiled and nodded. “You’ll be the first to know, Anthousa.”

***

She left Anthousa’s with a lot to think about. First, there were the challenges awaiting her on Monday, but strangely, she didn’t want to mull over them now. It was easy not to, when Kassandra was around. 

Anthousa didn’t seem too concerned about Kassandra’s motivations, and the evening only put Aspasia at further ease. Kassandra never asked where to put her money, or how much anything cost. Instead, she wanted to know which films Aspasia had seen, and where she liked most of the places she’d travelled. Most bizarrely, she wanted to know if she’d rather fight a horse-sized duck, or a hundred duck-sized horses. She wasn’t interested in business or wealth. She would politely nod when Aspasia spoke about her work, but she could see the light behind her eyes switch off. She even refused to let Aspasia buy her anything from room service, choosing instead to buy a four-pack of beer from the mini mart. 

They spent the evening on the hotel decks, overlooking the Gulf of Korinth. The sunset’s amber glow danced over the waves, and the sea breeze brought calmness with it. Aspasia had no idea how to be casual, but Kassandra was so easy to talk to. When gaps came in their conversation, she filled them with ease. She told her a story about the time she and her brother filled their water bottles with stolen vodka, and took them into school. They were throwing up by the lunch break, and strangely, Aspasia caught herself laughing louder than she had in a long time. 

Her thoughts wandered over the bonds she’d known through the years. Her friendship with Anthousa was forged in flames. They’d suffered and grafted together, and they would always have each other’s back. Her marriage with Perikles had no spark, but he was a dear friend who she saw near every day, and his absence affected her more than she cared to admit. But Kassandra brought something else. After the nerves of their introduction wore off, she spoke to Aspasia the same way she’d speak to a casual friend. Although her constant jokes could be irritating, they made her feel more human than she had in a long time.

As they made their way back inside, she became aware of a growing softness in her chest, and her instinct was to throttle it. She pushed her feelings aside and pushed her onto the mattress. Kassandra welcomed her with eager hands, and Aspasia kissed her roughly, leaving no space for words.

Chapter Text

After the weekend Kassandra had, it felt bizarre to be heading back into the office. It was a miniature version of post-holiday blues. Just yesterday, she was only yards away from the calm sea, with a beautiful woman in her bed. Still, she reasoned, things had to be improving. Right or wrong, she had the attention of the Managing Director. If this job was a game, she would have won it. 

But as she walked up to the charcoal grey exterior of Kosmos House, she felt the same burning dread as always. Wild weekend or not, the next nine hours would be just as boring. 
Or so she thought. 

Kleon had been gone all morning, and whether he was in meetings or slacking somewhere, Kassandra and Gelon could never be sure. When he stormed through at noon with a crumpled paper in his hand and a scowl on his face, they had their answer. 

“You two, with me,” he ordered. “We’re going into a room.” 

His two underlings swapped looks of pursed lips and wide eyes in mock-dread. It was hard not to laugh at each other, but they rose in silence to follow him, and he led them into an empty conference room. The table was long and wide, with twenty seats around it, but the two took their seats beside each other in a quiet show of solidarity. Their manager was still stuck at the entrance, trying and failing to kick the doorstop across the carpet. After five or six tries, he finally succeeded, leaving the door to slam shut behind him.

“Aspasia,”  he spat the name like it was venom, “made me sign this.”

He slid his half-crumpled paper across the table. The title shocked them both.

Performance Improvement Plan (60 Days) – Kleon Manetas 

“Oh my god,” Gelon muttered. Kassandra clasped her hand over her mouth to disguise her amusement as shock. Kleon paced up and down, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. 

A Performance Improvement Plan was a corporate death sentence. In theory, they were given to employees who were underperforming to help them get back on track, the last resort before firing them. In reality, they were just a legal formality. If you were given one of these, management had made their mind up, and you were living on borrowed time. Kleon’s days were quite literally numbered. 60 working days. Three calendar months. 

“Now, I’m not going to point fingers. I’m not going to concern myself with whose failing this really is,” he said, looking squarely between the two of them. “But we all need to club together to make this right.”

“This is,” Gelon skimmed through the sheet, “an absolute howler. None of these points are in any way measurable. Are you going to start looking for another job?” 

“I don’t want another job!” He snapped, then calmed himself with a sigh. “I like working here. I need to pass this plan, and for that, I will need both of you to help.” There was an edge of desperation in him. It would unsettle anybody to be given an omen like this, but this job was all he had. He barely lifted a finger and he had no idea what he was doing. Gelon had been doing his job for months. 

He’d been away from Acquisitions for too long to walk back into a similar role, and there was no chance to continue his unfortunate marketing career. With the knowledge he had, he would struggle to fill even an apprentice role.  

“Let me see,” said Kassandra. She took the PIP, and Gelon’s concerns were correct. 

One action point was to increase his technical knowledge, but there were no links to courses. Another point was to produce a weekly revenue report across multiple platforms and talk through it in detail. He was doomed.  

“Kassandra, that report is going to come from you, then I will send it to Aspasia. Gelon, I’m going to shadow you this week, and you are going to explain every aspect of your job in detail. Is that understood?”

For fuck’s sake. 

“Yes, boss,” said Gelon with a tight smile. “Happy to help.”  Kassandra simply nodded. 

“Stupid woman she is,” he said, in the direction of Aspasia’s office. “She has no idea what she’s doing, so now she needs to throw her weight around.”

Kassandra whipped out her phone to text her.

Kassandra
LMAOO KLEON

Aspasia
You’re welcome.  

Kassandra
He’s lost his head, he’s calling you stupid and he’s making me do the ROAS reports 

Aspasia
I expected as much. When you send them to him, CC me in and I’ll deal with it. 

Kassandra grinned at the screen, cautious not to catch Kleon’s eye. It was good to have a direct line to the boss. 

As the hours went on, Gelon had a terrible time of it. Kleon was constantly lingering at her desk, asking questions about nearly everything on the screen. Every graph she opened, every step of a campaign, every tab needed a thorough explanation, which went in one oversized ear and out of the other. 

Kassandra, on the other hand, was freed up considerably with both of her supervisors occupied. She was free to do as little as she wanted, and things had never felt better. The bane of her life was on his way out.

All was fine until Wednesday morning. 

“Kassandra,” Odessa stood to catch her on her way in. “Aspasia is looking for you. She said it’s urgent.”

Roxana scoffed. “Word of advice. When Aspasia says something is urgent, it’s never as urgent as you’d think.

“She has no patience, that’s all,” said Odessa. 

She couldn’t deny it. It was plain to see in her manner, the way she spoke, even in her driving. The only time she’d ever told Kassandra not to rush was… 
Kassandra cleared her throat. 

“Did she say what it was about?” she asked. 

“No, but I don’t know why she’d go to you and not Gelon,” said Roxana. 

“She does seem to single you out a lot,” Odessa mused. 

It was a loaded statement, whether Odessa realised it or not. She could have said that Aspasia had taken a dislike to her, or that she was simply the first point of contact for technical issues. She could have even said that it was because she was always the first in. But she chose to say nothing. 

Not wanting to stick around, she marched over to her desk. She almost jumped out of her skin when she turned the corner. Aspasia was sitting in her chair. 

“Ah-you!” Kassandra yelped, then took a deep breath. “Good morning.” 

“The website is broken.” Said Aspasia, straight to the point once again. “I need you to fix it ASAP. I have a call with a buyer tomorrow, and I’d expect they’ll be visiting our site.” It just had to be urgent this time. Typical. 

“Let’s have a look what the problem is.”

The Director returned her seat. Kassandra sat down and pulled it in to the desk, as Aspasia leaned over her shoulder. They were so close that she could smell her perfume. If she were to lean down just slightly, she could kiss her. The scent and proximity brought back a million passionate memories, which Kassandra struggled to push from her mind.  

After fumbling her login twice, she finally pulled herself together and got to Chrome. Sure enough, the site was a mess of mis-sized images and plain HTML. 

“Looks like a compatibility issue,” said Kassandra. “I’ll run some tests on the staging site and migrate a fixed version over.”

“I don’t care what’s causing it, I’m no technician. I want it presentable before you leave. If you can’t fix it at all, you put a maintenance screen up. Is that understood?” 

To have it presentable would be to have it fixed, and to do it all in the same day was a big ask. But as Aspasia stared down at her, she found herself too weak to say no.

“Understood.” 

It was neither an easy fix nor a crisis, just a gruelling inconvenience. Kassandra had to log into the staging site, a private backup of the company website. She turned the plugins off one by one, conducting repeated tests to see which one was causing the issue. Out of 28, naturally, it was the last one she tried. It had drained five long hours out of her day, but at least it brought her nicely to her lunch break. She couldn’t move the fixes over without running a thorough backup, which would take about an hour anyway.

Between the stress on her screen, the noise of Kleon’s constant questions, the dull melodies of ringing telephones, and the general misery in the room, she had to take an hour’s breather. She slung her bag over her shoulder and hurried out, before any of the higher ups could notice her leaving. Better to ask forgiveness than seek permission. 
 
She decided to walk things off, grabbing a quick takeaway wrap, strolling around the busy streets of Athens. Her phone buzzed. 

Gelon
Hey wank sock
Dragoness is looking for you

Kassandra
Hi fuckhead
I’m on lunch, what does she want?

Gelon
I told her to message you on Tinder HAHAHA

Kassandra
that would be the last thing you ever did lol

Gelon
Kleon is doing my fucking head in
It’s like having a massive ugly child
Someone please euthanise him
Or me 

Kassandra’s response was interrupted by an inbound call. She didn’t even have to look at the name to know who it was, but when she did, it was Aspasia after all. She sighed deeply. 

“Hello?” she answered. 

“Where are you?” Aspasia demanded. “The website still isn’t working, and you’re nowhere to be seen.” 

“I’m on break. I can’t fix the site until a backup has completed, and it was going to take over an hour, so I’m out of the office.” 

“Why wasn’t I updated on this?” Aspasia asked. Kassandra withdrew her phone for a second just to glare at it, and shook her head. 

“You said yourself, you’re no technician. I didn’t think it would serve you any benefit.” 

“Then don’t be surprised when I come to poor conclusions. When will the site be fixed?” The way she was speaking, anyone would think they’d never exchanged a friendly word, let alone slept together. Perhaps she could have dealt with it, if it were Kleon. But their intimacy only made it more infuriating. 

“Malaka, it’s all in fucking hand! Calm down, would you?” 

Kassandra stopped in her tracks when she realised what she’d said, and worse, who she’d said it to. To swear at a boss like that was grounds for instant dismissal. To say it to the CEO’s right hand was suicide. 

A painful silence lingered on the other end of the phone. This must have been how deer felt, when they were caught in the headlights, frozen in anticipation of their impending death. 

“You’ll answer for that,” was all Aspasia said. The line beeped as she hung up. 

***

There was no firing squad waiting for her when she got back, no executioner with an axe at the ready. Only her empty desk and a completed backup, which she moved over to the live site without issues. 

“Kassandra,” Kleon said, striding over to her. “I’ve just had an email from Aspasia. She needs a brochure for Skylark Holdings, and she needs it by tomorrow.”

“It’s 3:38PM,” she said. “What time does she need it for?” 

“Open of business.”

Kassandra bit back another profane response. It wasn’t like Aspasia to leave something to the last minute. Her plans to unwind in the gym were now obliterated. 

“I know it’s a late one, but she asked for you specifically. Given the position I’m in, I’m in no position to say no,” he said. 

Kassandra was hardly on solid ground either. 

“I understand, Kleon,” you fucking donkey, “I’ll do it.” 

It was depressing to watch the office empty, while she was stuck resizing text boxes and dragging images around. She didn’t have a draft ready until the wrong side of 6PM.

“See you later, Kassandra!” Barnabas called to her, waving over the desk cubicles. “Don’t work too hard!” 

“Not a chance of that, Barnabas. Have a good evening,” she replied. She’d never seen Barnabas off before. He was always the penultimate one to leave, and today she was the exception. 

A few minutes later, Aspasia emerged from her throne room with a set of keys in her hand.

“Aspasia, I sent you a draft. Can we go through the amends?” Kassandra spoke meekly, still unsure of where they stood after her earlier outburst. 

“I don’t need it until next week,” she said on her way past. 

“What?” A flare of indignation forced Kassandra to her feet. “So why am I here then?” 

“You can leave at any time, but I doubt you’ll want to.” Aspasia ignored the key question, giving her a familiar look of menace. 

Oh. So that’s what this was. 

Aspasia carried on to the double doors that closed the office, and locked them behind her. She took the handle and shook it to make sure they were properly locked and alone. 

Kassandra found herself strangely tense as she entered the Director’s office. Aspasia removed her jacket and hung it over the coat hook, covering the narrow window. Kassandra’s eyes caught on her tight blouse, tucked into the slim waistline of her trousers. 

“Clear the desk,” said Aspasia.

“Why? Things will need to be unplugged,” said Kassandra. 

“Clear it.” 

“What for?” 

“Don’t make me tell you again.”

This had to be a game. The locked door, the fictional deadline, the tactfully covered window. Aspasia had promised she would answer for her remark, and this had to be it. 

She went about removing the cables, careful not to damage the electronics. Aspasia watched intensely, and as more and more of the things got shifted, Kassandra couldn’t shake the sense that she was being made to dig her own grave. She placed the monitors and keyboard gently on the floor, and carefully disconnected the phone. 

Once the desk was empty, Aspasia stood at its corner, resting her downturned fist on it. 

“Put both of your hands flat on it, and keep them there.” she commanded. Kassandra blinked twice, then obliged. She leaned forward, pressing her palms to the cold mahogany surface. “I take it you know why you’re here,” the older woman closed the gap between them, brushing the backs of her knuckles from her ribs to her lower back. Kassandra suppressed a shiver. A searing heat was building in her cheeks, the tips of her ears, and the depth of her core. “If you were anybody else, you would be clearing your own desk. Do you understand that?” 

“I do,” Kassandra said, and it was the truth. 

“And yet, you disrespected me.” Aspasia’s hands found their way around her waistline, settling at her belt buckle. She pulled the strap firmly from its clasp. “For that, I have to punish you.” 

Kassandra’s breath escaped her. This was a scandal. For this to happen in the penthouse, or in Korinth, was something. But to be handled like this at Aspasia’s own desk, was a new low entirely. 

The pressure slipped from her waistline as the belt was pulled free from its loops. 

“Again, we can stop at any time. Do you want to go home, Kassandra?” she teased. 

Kassandra shook her head, already unable to think straight. This woman would be the death of her. 

Aspasia undid the button and dropped her pants to the floor, her underwear closely following. She pressed into the back of her. The surface of her trousers against her bare arse sent a wicked thrill through her. The Director took hold of her planted wrists and yanked them backwards. Without the support of her arms, Kassandra’s chest hit the wood beneath her. Her wrists were pulled together and wrapped tightly behind her back using her belt.

She touched her then, her fingers moving with ease over her wet sex.

“Already so eager to be fucked,” she taunted, a superior lilt present in her tone. “You think that’s what you deserve?” 

“Yes,” Kassandra sighed. 

Aspasia withdrew her hand and dashed it against to soft skin of her arse cheek. The slap rang loud, and the sting was sharp.

Fuck, she hits hard.  

“Try again,” she said. 

“Yes,” Kassandra repeated, not satisfied with just one.  

She spanked her again, and again, and a third time, each more painful than the last. 

“Again?"

“No,” Kassandra finally spilled the answer she wanted. 

“So intent on testing me,” said Aspasia, gently caressing the newly hot skin. “You forget what I can do, what I can reduce you to.” She came to her cunt again, far wetter than she left it. 

Without warning, she pushed two fingers inside her. Kassandra moaned deeply at the piercing pleasure. Aspasia thrusted into her with a slow, deliberate and torturous rhythm. 

“Apologise,” she ordered. Kassandra had to choke back her moans, just to catch her breath.

“I’m sorry, Aspasia,” she managed. 

“Good girl,” she said, and the words made her head spin. Aspasia slipped a third finger in, bringing a quick flash of pain that gave way to heightened pleasure. “Now, if you take this well, I just might forgive you.”

Steadily, she upped her tempo until her thrusts were hard and fast, her knuckles hitting the base of her entrance with every repetition. Kassandra closed her eyes and allowed herself to become lost in it. She’d never been fucked this hard before. Until now, she never knew she needed it. 

The desk’s surface was hard and unforgiving, and she wished she could hang on to it as it rattled with the motion. It was loud and filthy, but she couldn’t bring herself to think. 

Aspasia gripped her hair by the root and pulled, forcing her desperate sighs into the open air. She held the cruel grip for a few seconds, then held on to the nape of her neck, holding it tightly to push deeper in. 

“Fuck,” the curse fell from Kassandra’s mouth. “I’m close.” 

“You won’t,” said Aspasia, her breath heavy with the exertion. “You won’t without my permission.” 

Her fingers rubbed mercilessly inside her, the waves of pleasure building with every movement.

“Please,” she said.

“Like you mean it,” Aspasia chided. 

“Please,” she repeated, with more desperation. 

“Not enough.”

“Please Aspasia,” she begged, “please let me come.”

Aspasia’s hand left her neck, joining its twin between her thighs. One continued to ram her, the other working over her flushed clit. 

It was over in seconds. Her senses overwhelmed her, and the orgasm hit her like a freight train. 

When Aspasia let go of her, she could barely move. When the buckle was undone and her wrists were free, she could only slump against the desk. 

“Are you alright?” asked Aspasia, surprisingly soft and concerned. Kassandra smiled into the crook of her elbow. What a stupid question. Still, she took a deep breath and pulled herself together.

“I’m fine,” she said, still panting as she lifted herself up. She quickly dipped to recover her underwear and trousers. 

As she refastened the button, Aspasia caught her hands again with a look of hunger in her eyes. She led Kassandra’s hands to her waist and kissed her. Kassandra was more than happy to be led, deepening their kiss, pulling her in closer. 
A sharp breath escaped Aspasia, giving away her arousal. Kassandra smiled against her soft lips.

“However can I make it up to you?” asked Kassandra.

“Get on your knees,” she said, undoing her own trousers.

Kassandra fell to her knees far too readily. Aspasia took her place in the tall, leather Director’s chair, bare from the waist down. They locked eyes, and Aspasia brushed her cheek in a surprisingly gentle gesture, before her hand returned to the nape of her neck to pull her in.

She was gentle at first, tasting her with a light stroke, and Aspasia exhaled sharply at the feeling. Kassandra rolled her tongue up and down, wanting to ease her into the motion. But of course, there was no need. With a firm hold, she pulled her in closer, and the message was clear. Don’t waste time. 

Kassandra pressed harder and moved faster, easing her thighs further along her shoulders to pull her into a slouch. Aspasia’s chest twitched as she breathed tightly, trying to keep it in, but Kassandra had no intention of letting her. 

Aspasia moaned, and her head lolled back against the headrest. She ran her fingers through Kassandra’s hair, but couldn’t keep her hand still as her head dipped up and down, working hard to bring her release.

So lost in her concentration, Kassandra lost track of time. She could have stayed there for hours, but like all good things, it had to end. Aspasia moaned loudly, rocking her hips against her face as she writhed with her climax. 

A silence passed between them. Aspasia gathered her breath, shaken by the excitement, but there was a soberness in her eyes. She glanced around the office, and then at Kassandra, seemingly shocked by what they’d done, but there wasn’t a shred of regret. 

***

 
It was hard to concentrate at the best of times, but it was damned near impossible after that day. A boundary had been shattered, and she could no longer separate the office from the bed. With every task, in every meeting, her mind found its way back to Aspasia’s stare, Aspasia’s hands, Aspasia’s desk. 

Even when she was away, she was thinking about her. When she was at the gym, training her chest on the bench press, she couldn’t stop thinking about when Aspasia straddled her. The distraction nearly caused her to drop a dumbbell on herself. Would her boss still fancy her if her face was concave? Doubtful. 

Nowhere was safe.

Aspasia made many demands of her. If she couldn’t make it to hers on a Friday, she would be there on the Saturday. If she couldn’t be there on the Saturday, she would be there on the Sunday, and if she couldn’t be there on the Sunday, well, there was trouble.

 One day, Kassandra wandered into the corridor. hoping to tack a few extra minutes onto her lunch break. She sauntered around the corner from the main office door, where it was unlikely she would be seen slacking. Sure enough, she ran into Aspasia, who was in the tail end of a phone call. 

“You need to sell now, before everybody gets the same idea,” she said, then she looked up to notice Kassandra’s approach. She looked her up and down and her eyes flicked to the nearby door. “I have to go now, my break is almost over. Think about what I said.” Her jaw tightened, but she managed to smirk. “Yes, Anthousa, I have the same break obligations as everyone else. I’ll talk to you later.”

She put the phone down and walked over to meet Kassandra. Without a word, she took her by the collar and pulled her into the utility cupboard. It was cramped, full of clutter and dark, but the gap around the doorframe gave them just enough light to see each other. 

“Here?” Kassandra asked, incredulous, but far from unwilling. "Now?"

Aspasia kissed her against the wall, an emphatic answer to her question. 

“I’ve been wanting you all fucking week,” she whispered, her breath hot against Kassandra’s neck. 

It wasn’t fair to keep her waiting. 

She gripped Aspasia by the waist and pulled her in closer, pressing their hips together. Aspasia slipped her tongue into her mouth, running it coarsely over her own. The Director’s hands ran over her shirt, undoing the buttons from her collar to her navel. 

This was getting worse, surely. Last time they’d dared to fuck in Kosmos House, it was in the solitude of the evening. Now, it was 1:30PM on a Wednesday. Anybody could walk down and try the door, but it only made it more exciting. 

She let Aspasia touch her, her hands wandering freely under her clothes, from the broad plains of her back to the firm ridges of her stomach. She raked her nails down her abs and slipped straight under her waistband, drawing something between a moan and a gasp.

“Be quiet,” said Aspasia. Kassandra couldn’t quite see her cruel smile, but she could tell it was there. She parted her legs to clear the path for her questing hand. She cupped the soft parting between her thighs, applying pressure where it was needed most. 

“Oh god, I-“ The free hand clamped over her mouth. 

“You’re not to make a sound. If you do, I will take my hand away. Do you understand?”

Kassandra nodded, but Aspasia didn’t trust her enough to free her mouth. 

She clenched her jaw and pressed her tongue firmly against the roof of her mouth, trying desperately not to let any noise escape. She knew Aspasia wanted her to fail. She wanted her to beg and plead, anything to remind her of her power. Kassandra should have been spiteful, but her pride melted with every stroke of her fingers, dragging slowly over her clit. 

Her breaths came out heavy and ragged, forced through her nose.  She tried to slow them down, to relax, but Aspasia would never allow it. She quickened her hands, rubbing hard and languidly. It was worst when she took her hand away, opting instead to hook two fingers into her mouth. Kassandra was forced to bite down, but Aspasia didn’t seem to mind, giving a hum of appreciation. 

Her climax built, welling hotly beneath the pit of her stomach. She dreaded it as much as she needed it, knowing she wouldn’t be able to contain herself. Her legs began to twitch and shake, and her chest tightened with exertion. 

When she came, by some miracle, she managed to keep her mouth shut. She wrapped her arms tightly around Aspasia. If she wasn’t holding onto her, she might have fallen. Slowly, the air returned to her lungs. Aspasia pulled her hand away to wrap it around her back, and kissed her cheek. 

“Take the rest of the day off,” said the Director. “Tell Kleon you feel unwell. The worst thing he can do is report it to me, and I will deal with him accordingly.” 

“Are you sure?” Kassandra asked, and she instantly regretted being tentative. In record time, Aspasia had made a mess of her, and how could she return to her shift like this? 

“It’s only fair. We'll call it repayment for your overtime.” 

***

Sometimes it felt like Aspasia was sent by the devil. Never before had Kassandra known a woman so beautiful, so powerful, and so utterly depraved. No woman had ever made her behave like this, and she was confident her lover could say the same of her. More importantly, she knew no woman would thrill her like this again. 

Aspasia held her affection close to her chest, but there were always glimpses of it, in the moments after they fucked. 

A Saturday evening found them in Aspasia’s bed. Kassandra lay on her back, and Aspasia was beside her, propped up by her elbow against the pillow. She gently ran her hand over Kassandra’s chest and collarbone. She was so beautiful like this, with her hair cascading around her bare shoulders, her face soft in the lamplight. It was almost easy to forget who she was. Almost. 

“What do they say about me?” Aspasia asked. “In the office.”

Kassandra smiled. The glorious tyrant, enquiring into the thoughts of lowly plebs. Where could she start? They said she was aloof, ill-tempered and unapproachable. Because she was always first in and last out, Odessa had even started a rumour that she lived in a cupboard. The list went on. 

“They’re afraid of you,” said Kassandra. “They call you the Dragoness.” 

“Dragoness,” Aspasia laughed, “I like that. And what do you think?”

“I think,” Kassandra took her hand. “I’m the wrong person to ask. What do you make of me, then?”

Aspasia took a moment to think.

“As an employee, I think… you’re a product of Kleon’s management, but you have great potential. As a person, I like you a lot, and I can’t help it. I can’t keep away from you either.”

Kassandra ignored the criticism in lieu of the compliment. 

“Same with you,” she said. 

“Sometimes, I wish,” Aspasia tilted her head, struggling to find her words. “I wish we’d met years ago, but I don’t know how things would have changed. 

Perhaps she wasn’t bold enough to say it, but Kassandra didn’t miss the implication that she had genuine feelings for her, or that she brought her more happiness than Perikles. She may as well ask the question.

“Aspasia, am I your girlfriend?” 

Aspasia laughed. The sound seemed to be appearing more and more these days. It never failed to make Kassandra smile. 

“I suppose at this point, you may as well be,” she said. “Why, are you seeing anybody else?”

“God, no. You strike me as the jealous type,” Kassandra joked. “And I only have eyes for you. Are you?”

“No. It’s hard enough to make time to see you, let alone other women. I downloaded Tinder after a bottle of wine, and I only stayed on it for you.” 

“You work too hard,” said Kassandra, brushing a lock of Aspasia’s hair behind her ear. “I worry about your blood pressure, sometimes.” 

“My blood pressure may be high, but so is my bank balance.” 

“Fuck off,” Kassandra scoffed, and Aspasia laughed again. 

Humour couldn’t hide the issue for long. The woman was overworked, and she took a lot of it upon herself. Even in her sex life, she couldn’t let go of her control. She had to carry dominance in everything she did. 

Kassandra knew exactly what she needed. As the light switched out her mind went to work, fondly plotting her sordid revenge.

Chapter Text

Aspasia took the lift to the top floor, using the mirror to straighten her jacket. She bit the inside of her cheek and cast her eyes down, forcefully reminding herself that she wasn’t self-conscious, and she had no reason to be. Every day she was well-dressed, rarely having so much as a stray hair. Perhaps the only thing was that these days, it was getting harder to hide the shadows forming under her eyes. It was the end of the quarter, and even she had a boss to answer to. 

While the downstairs offices were bricked in, poorly lit and borderline claustrophobic, Mr Karagianis’ office was vast, his desk the only feature in a sea of floor space. It was coated in windows, allowing the afternoon sun to light up the room.

He was the elusive CEO of Kosmos Investments, so elusive that many of the staff had forgotten his name. He was the son of a loan shark who’d crossed into the corporate world, figuring you could snare struggling businesses in the same way you could a person. To say he was ‘hands off’ in his ownership was an understatement. He only came into the office four times a year. Though Aspasia had exchanged texts and emails with him near daily, this was the second time she’d seen him in person. The first was her job interview. 

He was an aging man, with a jowly jawline and sparse, oiled hair, but years of an inflated wallet and a light workload allowed him to look younger than he really was. His tan nearly hid his wrinkles, and his teeth were an unnerving shade of white. 

She took her seat and talked him through the quarterly finances, showing each of the graphs and their upward trajectories. They were brilliant results. She’d almost doubled the company’s monthly earnings. If she carried on at this rate, she would quadruple them within the year. 

“I have to say,” he said, leaning against the back of his padded chair. The embers of his cigar reflected over the corners of his cufflinks. “You had your doubters, especially among the board.” 

“They are passionate about the business and vocal about their concerns, that I understand,” she chose her words carefully, knowing if it were up to her, they’d all be gone. “But you brought me here for one reason, to expand our capital. Nobody can doubt I’ve done that.” The old man chuckled. 

“I’ve always seen you, Aspasia.” He flicked the ash from his cigar into an ash tray. “When you married Perikles, many wrote you off as a simple gold digger. But you’ve never been interested in an easy life, have you?”

Aspasia tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. When someone was crossing the line, silence was the assertive but diplomatic option. 

“You are someone who will do anything to make money. And yet, for all of your scheming, all of your climbing, and forgive me, your ruthlessness, your reputation is pristine. That’s how I knew you were just what this business needed.” 

“I think that’s a fair assessment,” she said. 

“I called you here to review your results, as you know. But I also brought you here to confess something,” he said, snuffing out his cigar end against the tray. “I’m getting old, see. Too long in the tooth for this business. My father passed it on to me, and I’ve been at the helm since I was twenty. I was going to pass it on to my son, but,” he sucked his teeth. “I realised something. He is my boy, and Kosmos is my true son. There’s no point in me retiring, spending my days pissed out of my skull on a yacht, if I can’t have peace of mind, no?”

You’d have a bigger yacht if you didn’t hold my work up, Aspasia thought. 

“How do you suppose we make your retirement easier?” she asked. 

“Shark-like Aspasia,” he laughed fondly. “A very diplomatic question. You know exactly what I’m proposing. Keep this up for another quarter, and I will offer my role to you. This office will be yours.” 

“It is a great honour to be considered,” she said. 

“Keep on the good work, keep out of trouble.” He said, leading her to the door. “I have just one more thing to ask of you.” 

“Yes?” 

“Give Kleon a chance, will you?” he said. “I know you have your reasons, and I do trust your judgement, but he is a friend of mine.”

“I will do what’s best for the business,” she said, keeping her tone carefully soft. “But I will.” 

When the lift’s doors closed behind her, she no longer had to hide her nervous energy.  

Her first thought was to share the news with Kassandra. She pulled her phone from her pocket and hit her name, always at the top of her call record.

The line never rang for long. 

“Let me guess,” Kassandra started. “You’ve pushed him down the stairs, and now you need my brawn to help you hide the body.” 

“He’s giving me another quarter, and if things carry on, he will offer me his title.” 

“Holy shit, you’ll be the CEO?”

“If all goes well. We need to be careful, from now on. No more leaving the office at the same time, no more sharing cars. No more fucking on the premises.”

“That was your idea. I never initiated that,” Kassandra laughed. “Anyway, if they’re going to make you the top boss, they wouldn’t fire you for an office romance.”

She had half a point. Aspasia had become far too valuable to replace, but her leadership would be ruined. Her job would be safe but her career would be dented. If she were caught fucking a junior, who in their right mind would take her seriously? Like the doomed man Kleon, she would struggle to land a similar job elsewhere. She’d probably spend the rest of her golden years trapped here as a figure of mockery. Kassandra, on the other hand, would be seen as a seductress and a troublemaker, no matter how unfair to her it was. She’d be gone within the week. It was painful to think about. 

“Yes they would,” said Aspasia. Sometimes, it was easier just to lie.

The lift stopped at the fourth floor. A man was about to wander in, but when he looked up from his phone and saw who was in there, he backed away with an awkward smile. Aspasia pressed the button to hurry the doors shut again. 

“Hm.” There was a heavy mood of discomfort coming through the phone. “Okay, let’s not get ourselves down. This calls for a celebration. Why don’t you come to mine for a change on Friday? We’d have the place to ourselves, my mother’s gone to visit Alexios in Sparti.” 

“What about the car?” Aspasia asked. “And why aren’t you going with her?” 

“Because I’d rather have you in my bed. As for the car, my neighbour Markos has a garage he never uses, he’ll let you keep it there.” She couldn’t argue with that logic.

“Your place it is.” 

***

Kassandra was her girlfriend, but she was also her employee, so it was twice as infuriating when she didn’t follow simple instructions. On Friday evening, she still waited at her desk, despite Aspasia making it clear they weren’t to leave at the same time. It was only 5:28 this time, and for once, there were people still around. 

Aspasia walked several paces ahead of her, but she managed to squeeze through the closing doors of the lift.

“You should have left half an hour ago,” said Aspasia. “Why didn’t you? I’ve already got your address in my phone.” 

“First of all, you worry too much. We’re in separate cars. Nobody in their right mind would assume you’re driving it to a place like mine,” said Kassandra. “I was thinking, see, and I had an idea. This is the first place we’re driving to separately. Why don’t we have a race?” 

“A race?” Aspasia raised an eyebrow. “There’d be no sport in it, Kassandra. I think my car is a bit faster than yours.” 

“I know the roads, and I know you.” Kassandra shook her head. “I like my chances.” 

“My car was built to race. Yours was built for,” Aspasia waved her hand, trying to find the answer. “I don’t even know.”

“Why don’t we make a wager, if you’re so confident?”

“Go on.” 

“If I get to that car park before you, I get to have my way with you,” Kassandra offered. “And if you get there before me, I’ll be your servant all weekend.” 

Aspasia laughed as her true purpose revealed itself. The suggestion came completely out of left field, but Kassandra must have been planning this. Her free apartment was the perfect stage for it, and she’d even gone to the lengths of securing the garage instead of suggesting a taxi. It all made sense now. 

“You're on,” said Aspasia. 

When the doors opened, Kassandra bolted into the car park like a greyhound at the races. Aspasia had the comfort of walking, with the Director’s space immediately outside the main exit. She was able to sit down, start her car and mount her phone before Kassandra even reached her space. 

Thanks to Kassandra’s hasty and haphazard reversing, they were together in the queue for the barriers, with Aspasia a single space ahead. She could see the other woman trying to catch her attention in the mirror, waving and rudely gesticulating. She revved her engine loudly, as if it were a game of Mario Kart. Aspasia shook her head, revving her own engine in response. It was a deep rumble which made Kassandra’s car sound like a hairdryer. Her opponent was unfazed, stretching her ears and sticking her tongue out. 

Aspasia laughed loudly, failing to notice that the barrier ahead had lifted. She zipped through when she saw, and accelerated into the Athens traffic. Kassandra was able to keep her place behind her, stuck in the right hand lane. When she indicated to move into the overtaking lane, Aspasia slammed her own indicator on, drifting carefully into the middle to block her. Kassandra beeped her horn, airing her disapproval as she was forced back. But the poor woman had no chance to begin with. They stopped at the lights, and when they turned green, they turned onto the motorway, where Aspasia was certain she’d leave her in the dust. 

The traffic was denser than she would have liked, but she still had the advantage. She moved into the fast lane, comfortably passing the cars in the middle. Kassandra held her position at her back for several minutes, until she seemed to have given up. She indicated to move into the middle lane, and then over to the slow lane. 

Aspasia shook her head, smirking into her rear-view mirror. 

“I don’t give up,” she said to herself. “That’s why I’m a fucking Director.” 

She put her foot down, but it wasn’t to last. In her little moment of triumph, she missed the sign for the fast-approaching roadworks. A sea of brake lights came up in front of her, and she had to slow down. The traffic now moved at a crawling pace, and the cause of the bottleneck revealed itself. The fast lane was merging into the middle lane, and they were queueing to be let in. In a horrific twist, the slow lane had now become the fast lane.

“No!” Aspasia repeatedly bashed the steering wheel with the meat of her hand. 

Kassandra rolled past the pile-up with ease and disappeared down the road ahead. After all, she made this journey almost every day, and only she could have known about the lane speeds. Aspasia let go of a deep sigh. She’d been outsmarted, and her pride had been shattered by a Fiat Punto. 

When she reached the car park of Kassandra’s flat, the winner was already waiting for her, leaning triumphantly against her car bonnet. She jogged over to the Aston and dropped into the passenger seat.

“That was good, wasn’t it?” she was beaming. “I knew I’d get you at those road works! You’re allergic to lane discipline.” 

“Show me to this fucking garage,” said Aspasia, a sore loser. “I don’t want to hear another word about it.” Kassandra cracked up laughing and fastened her seatbelt. 

She followed her directions to a house around the corner. The garage door was already open, and a middle-aged man paced around. He had curly hair, leathery skin, and a bright orange track jacket. 

She rolled slowly into the space, and the stranger brought the shutters down behind her. 

“Wow, wow, wow!” In a flash, Markos was already at her door to open it for her. “Miss Aspasia! Thank you very much for coming to my humble abode.” His voice was pitchy and grating, something akin to nails scaping down a chalkboard. She threw a look back hoping to catch Kassandra, but her back was already turned as she got out of her side. She followed suit, stepping onto the unfurnished floor. Markos closed her door gently, presumably wary of damaging it. 

“Thank you for this, Markos,” she said. “It is kind of you.”

“Not at all!” said Markos. “Parking is expensive these days, no? It is a beautiful car, Aspasia. You must have trouble parking it safely.” 

“Quite often.” 

“All I ask for in return is a moment of your time.” He squinted and lifted a finger.

“Markos,” Kassandra groaned. “I knew there’d be a catch. Don’t embarrass me, please.” 

“Hey, this garage wasn’t empty you know! I had to move my equipment, very important equipment! But I did it for you, and I did it because you were bringing Athens’ best financier!” 

He bent down to rummage in a cardboard box. He pulled out a generic, unlabelled bottle. The liquid inside it was an unusual orange colour. 

“Distillation equipment,” he clarified. “I present to you my own personal brand of alcohol. I call it, Markos Vintage.” He passed it to Aspasia. She tested its weight in her hand and held it up to the yellow garage light. 

“What… is it?” she asked, politely humouring him. 

“Why, it’s ouzo! This is a very small operation at present, but I think tourists might be duped into buying some, pigeons that they are,” he said. Ouzo was a clear drink, making the orange tint even more baffling. “With the right investment, I think this could be a Fortune 500 business, that I am sure of!” 

“Markos, why?” Kassandra protested, slapping her hand over her eyes. 

Aspasia wasn’t hiding her amusement, but Markos wasn't for noticing. 

“What are your net sales, Markos?” she asked. 

“As yet, erm, none,” Markos fumbled. “The product is still in development. But surely that makes it even more of an investment! The sky is the limit!”

“Of course,” Aspasia lied. “Is it a loan you’re after, or are you wanting to sell your little start-up?”

“A loan? No, not a loan. I thought perhaps you’d like to buy some shares!” 

“If it were my decision, I would help you in a heartbeat, but Kosmos’ money isn’t mine to spend. I’ll pass this sample on to the acquisitions team, and they’ll be in touch if it’s a good fit,” said Aspasia.

“Oh, god bless you!” said Markos with delight. He clasped his greedy hands together. “You will put in a good word for me?”

“Of course.”

Kassandra looked mortified. She hovered around the shutters, perhaps silently willing them to open so she could run away. 

When they took their leave, Kassandra sighed heavily once they were out of earshot. They walked down the quiet, narrow street, with Kassandra's apartment block looming in the near distance.

“Sorry about him,” she said.

“He knows what he wants, doesn’t he?” Aspasia laughed. 

“He’s a decent man, deep down. Deep, deep down. He used to let me and Alexios stay at his when our stepfather was off on one,” she said. “Although he did try to train us to steal catalytic converters.” 

“Wait, you left my car with this man?” Aspasia came to a sudden halt. Kassandra waved her off. 

“He wouldn’t do it to someone he knows. Much less me, much less his new business partner," said Kassandra, with another slappable smile. 

***

It was always awkward to visit someone’s home for the first time. It was unfamiliar and hard to settle, so Aspasia wandered around, almost treating the place like some sort of museum. The flat was small, but tidy. The living room and kitchen occupied the same space, with the bedrooms tucked away in a short hallway. 

Kassandra’s bedroom, thankfully, was close to what she’d expected. The walls were light blue, the paint fading into grey. Her bed frame was thin and metallic. Her desk was small, overwhelmed by her two monitors, a black gaming chair pushed under it. A heavily dented yoga mat lay in the corner with several dumbbells and plates on top of it. 

To the host’s credit, she had every intention of making this a nice evening. She cooked them a beautiful meal, cracked open a bottle of wine, and had them settle down in the living room with a film. There were always gaps in their conversations. Kassandra was quick to point out that Aspasia had very little knowledge of pop culture, and since they’d made things official, she made it her mission to educate her through film. 

This time, it was Titanic. Kassandra insisted that it was a classic, and she needed to see it just to say she had. Hardly a compelling argument, but Aspasia went along with it. As far as she was concerned, the ship was going to sink, and anything prior was a waste of time. 

Even if it were the greatest film on earth, it couldn’t have pried her attention from the woman beside her. Kassandra had changed into her loungewear, a white tee that was far too small, and her shorts fit just as poorly. The fabric rolled helplessly up her thick thighs, and Aspasia’s eyes were doomed to follow. 

Her girlfriend was oblivious to her leering, sprawled backwards over the arm of the chair, her arm flexing to prop up her head. Her abs could be seen through the fabric, and she clearly hadn’t cared to wear a bra. Aspasia wasn’t going to wait for the iceberg. She slid her leg over Kassandra’s thighs, taking a seat at her hips. She brought her hands from her hips to her jaw and cupped her face to kiss her. 

“Steady on,” Kassandra whispered. “You’re going to miss the movie.” 

“I already know what’s going to happen. It's all going underwater. There’s all this boring build up, trying to show that they love each other, only for Jack to risk his neck at the end. He’ll make that bold sacrifice, and Rose will let him, and we’re supposed to ignore that the door is big enough for the pair of them. Happy?”

“Ever the romantic,” she chided. 

But Kassandra’s actions betrayed her words. She turned the television off and kissed her back with a vengeance, and as their kissing moved towards its natural conclusion, hands began to move under clothes. Aspasia pulled at the bottom of her shirt, aching to take it off. 

“No,” Kassandra caught her wrist. “I’ve not forgotten our wager.” 

“I was hoping you’d forget,” Aspasia kissed the length of her neck. “I have plans for you.” 

“I’m sure you do,” Kassandra laughed lightly. “But I won.”

Aspasia straightened herself. “One thing I am not, is an honest woman. I’m not going to give myself up for you. You’re going to have to make me.”

Kassandra looked irate at first, but her expression morphed into a wicked grin, the moment she understood the invitation. She gripped the undersides of her thighs as she stood, picking Aspasia up with her. She walked straight over to the wall. Aspasia flushed, as she was pressed between the hard surface and Kassandra’s firm core, wrapping her legs around her waist. 

God, she was so strong. It had always been plain to see, but with Kassandra taking the passive role, she’d never seen its benefits until now. It made her dizzy knowing how powerful she was, that she could have her however she wanted, and now she was all caught in her arms. It was a harsh and humbling reminder, that Aspasia had only been able to dominate this woman because she’d so willingly allowed it. It wasn’t the case tonight. Kassandra rolled her hips as they kissed, sending waves of pressure against her aching centre. 

It was enough to make her forget her dignity. She moaned into her mouth, already burning up with desire. 
“You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this. You made a mistake in goading me,” said Kassandra, still so close that their noses were still touching. Aspasia couldn’t have disagreed more. The only mistake was not goading her earlier. With this in mind, she slapped her, not hard enough to sting but enough to provoke her further. 

It worked. Kassandra’s deep brown eyes met hers with a flare of passion, and she carried her through to the bedroom. She tossed her onto the bed, causing the metal frame to squeak, and the mattress to bounce with the sudden impact. She pulled her T-shirt over her broad shoulders and discarded her shorts quickly after. 

Aspasia must have seen her body a hundred times by now, but this one felt different. For a moment, Kassandra just towered over her, the narrow blinds casting stripes of streetlight over her chiselled physique. Kassandra looked down on her, seemingly enjoying the sight of her boss beneath her. Aspasia could have stared forever, but Kassandra had no such intention. 

Her girlfriend joined her on the bed. Strong hands found her waistline and pulled her trousers free, only bothering to undo the top three buttons of her blouse before she tossed it aside in a similar fashion. It was an indignity to be undressed so quickly and tactlessly, her designer clothes strewn across the floor like litter. Kassandra slipped onto the bed and grabbed Aspasia’s hips jerking them towards her. Aspasia let out a weak sigh, partly at the surprise of being dragged down the bed, partly with the arousal of being manhandled so easily. Nobody had dared to touch her like this before, let alone throw her around like a ragdoll. She hated to admit it as much as she hated to like it, but she was going to let Kassandra do whatever she wanted, and she’d probably let her do it again. 

Kassandra kissed her roughly and quickly, giving her no time to reciprocate. Her mouth worked from her lips to her jaw, to the base of her ear, down her neck, all the way down to the stiff peak of her nipple. She swirled her tongue around it before wrapping her lips around it. Aspasia couldn’t enjoy it for long. Kassandra’s elbow dipped under her thigh to tip off her next destination. She kissed, licked and bit her way down her stomach, until Aspasia felt her breath against her wet sex. The first stroke was hard and dizzying. The second was even better, her tongue wetter after tasting her arousal.  

When she’d gone down on her before, the way she used her mouth was careful and considerate, always focused on getting her off. Now, she showed no such kindness, flicking her tongue over her with animalistic lust, intent on devouring her. Aspasia was happy to let her, already lost in the intensity. 

Kassandra slipped two fingers beneath her chin, using her tongue and fingers to pleasure her in tandem. It was a divine sensation. Aspasia closed her eyes to take it all in, wanting it to last for hours. To prolong it she tried to force her mind away, to think of anything else. She thought of her work, of Excel sheets more complex than jet engines, and it stalled her for a minute or two. Thinking of work made her think of her desk. Thinking of her desk made her think of Kassandra, bent over it and moaning, tight around her fingers. For fuck’s sake. 

Her orgasm came hard and fast. She arched her back, pushing harder against Kassandra’s face, until her lover pulled away. 

“Take a moment to catch your breath. I’m not finished with you yet,” Kassandra said smugly. Aspasia smiled, fully aware that her own cruel words were being thrown back at her. She deserved this. 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she said. 

Kassandra smirked over her shoulder as she turned her back, making for the set of drawers across the room. She opened the top one, and Aspasia’s lust caught alight again when she saw what emerged. A black leather harness, with a large black dildo to match it.
 
She stepped through its loops and fastened it tightly. Aspasia couldn’t take her eyes off it. Slack-jawed and breathless, all she could think about was how it would feel inside her, driven by Kassandra’s strong hips. The taller woman noticed her anticipation.

She made a show of running the lube over it with long strokes, staring intently at her, no doubt planning her next moves. 

Aspasia parted her legs to welcome her back to the bed. Their mouths met again, allowing her to taste herself on her lover’s lips and tongue. She found a wicked pleasure in it, all while the toy’s tip ran over her clit to tease her. Kassandra kept herself up by her elbows, which allowed an intimate closeness between the two of them. All it took was a gentle push, and the toy slipped in with no resistance, bringing a dirty moan from Aspasia. She’d never felt anything like it. It filled her so perfectly, enough not to leave an inch of her untouched, just enough not to hurt. It felt just as good on the way out, pulling exquisitely inside her. She could feel the pleasure rising with every slow roll of Kassandra’s hips. She wrapped her legs around her, encouraging her movements. 

Kassandra’s mouth fell open and she groaned as though she’d been touched herself. Aspasia turned her head into hers, deliberately moaning in her ear. It drove her wild, spurring her to move faster. She straightened her arms, pushing herself up to watch Aspasia’s face as she unravelled. The newfound distance was short, but Aspasia wished she’d stayed where she was. She wanted to finish like that, with her arms wrapped around her back, her face buried in her neck. But the height of her arms allowed new leverage, allowing her to slam her hips harder and deeper than before. 

It thrilled Aspasia, but Kassandra still wasn’t satisfied. It wasn't long before she switched her position to a kneeling stance. She took Aspasia by the ankles, and to her surprise, she lifted them over her shoulders and let them rest at either side of her neck. Aspasia wondered why she’d pose her in such an unusual way, but her questions were answered in a single, quick thrust.

Aspasia gasped. The angle was lethal, hitting deep inside her, exactly where it needed to, dragging tantalisingly against her increasingly sensitive walls. Kassandra leered at her, knowing full well what she was doing. She held her hips in a vice like grip, viciously pumping the silicone cock inside her. With every repetition, her hard thighs hit the soft skin of Aspasia’s backside. The slapping sound filled the room, followed by the bedframe’s dull creaks. Though Kassandra’s stamina was impressive, Aspasia knew she wouldn’t last more than two minutes like this. She wanted to cry out and scream her lover’s name in appreciation, but in that moment, she could barely remember her own.  

The second orgasm rattled her nerves, forcing the most pathetic noises out of her lungs. She writhed and struggled, but Kassandra wouldn’t let her escape. She crossed her arms over Aspasia’s knees and held her legs in place. She was all focus, her face tight with concentration as she watched the toy slide in and out, wanting her to ride the high for as long as she could. 

When Kassandra finally, mercifully let her go and stepped off the bed, Aspasia wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at the mess she’d made. The light cast a sheen over Kassandra's thighs and lower stomach, a mixture of lube and lust. It was a struggle to find words, but the ones that found her happened to form a stupid question. 
“Was it worth it?” Aspasia whispered. Kassandra could only laugh.

“Of course it was. Do you think it was worth it? You certainly enjoyed yourself.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” said Aspasia, trying to claw back a slither of pride. “Wait until I get my hands on you. I’ll make you forget all about it.” She was completely exhausted. The threat came out in a sleepy drawl. Kassandra came back to position herself under the covers. She wrapped her arms around Aspasia. The gesture was shockingly tender, given what she'd just done. 

“Sure,” Kassandra chided sarcastically. “I might forget, but you certainly won’t.” 

Chapter Text

The morning greeted them gently. The soft amber rays of sunrise drifted in through the blind slats, streaking across the floor. Aspasia’s clothes still littered the room, her blouse strewn across the floor, a leg of her trousers hanging limply over a dumbbell.
Kassandra had woken up a couple of times in the night, subconsciously uneasy at the new body in her sleeping space. It had been a while since she’d last had a woman here. But Aspasia slept solidly through the night, never so much as stirring.

But Aspasia was the one to wake her from the final doze. She kissed her neck, wrapping her arm around her hips. Kassandra smiled into her pillow.

“No hard feelings, then,” she said.

“No,” said Aspasia. “It was fairly won. I’m not complaining.” Of course, she would never admit that she needed it, but that’s what she meant. “Besides, it’s only fair that you go into this week with an upper hand.”

“Why?” Kassandra turned to face her. “What’s happening?”

“You’re going to be busy. I need to make it clear that I’m ready for the promotion, and to do that I need to shout about it, indirectly. There will be two large press releases and a lot of marketing collateral. That, and I’m travelling to Madrid at the weekend for a conference with the board and some others. That’ll probably need a PR piece too, the week after.”

“Aspasia,” Kassandra groaned. “I hate copywriting.”

“We all choose our jobs, Kassandra,” she teased. “It’s just for the short term, just for the next three months. When I’m in charge of the business, I’ll make it all up to you, I promise.”

Kassandra tried to cast it from her mind. She rolled over and slid her hand slowly up Aspasia’s thigh.

“I’ll have to take my payment in advance,” she whispered. Aspasia laughed, pulling her in to a kiss, and they lost themselves again.

***

Aspasia’s idea of busy was warped beyond belief. Slots on this woman’s calendar were in high demand. So when she told Kassandra she’d be busy, she was a fool not to know it would be hectic. New brochures were needed, new ads had to be launched, and new press releases had to be drafted and distributed to commemorate every achievement. It was Kosmos’ most profitable quarter. It was expanding its operations into two new cities. It was exhausting.

Previously, their press releases would be picked up by a couple of trade publications at most. But now that Aspasia’s name was front and centre, it found its way into papers across the board. Kassandra’s phone never stopped ringing. Odessa’s name on the receiver had burned itself into her retinas.

“What now?” she picked it up for the fifth time that morning.

“Some guy from The Economist, apparently. He has a couple of questions about the contract details.”

“Put him through to Acquisitions,” said Kassandra. “Or better yet, tell him to touch grass, because this shit is boring.”

“You know these calls are recorded, don’t you?” Odessa laughed.

“Malaka, just put him through.” Kassandra sighed, a victim of her own success.

To make matters worse, they still had their usual campaigns to juggle, and the responsibility fell to Kleon. He still couldn’t draft a report to save his life, and they spent more time directing him and correcting his errors than they would’ve if they’d formatted it themselves, but they wouldn’t dare to tell him.

He only had a month left to prove himself. Positive signs were further away than ever and his moods got worse by the day. To make himself look busier, he’d added a second monitor to his desk, but it only shielded his grumpy face from the others and allowed him to sulk. Kassandra hadn’t robbed his desk in weeks, but he’d put cheap padlocks over his drawers and kept his webcam pointed over his treasure. Kassandra and Gelon started calling it Area 51.

***

Friday couldn’t have come sooner. When its afternoon arrived, the relief came like rain to a wildfire. It was the easiest day of the week. Everyone switched off. Nobody had a desire to get anything done, everything was put off until Monday, and nine out of ten meetings would be rescheduled. Even the journalists had ceased their chasing for most of the day.

It was always ominous when a new meeting shoved itself into her calendar, but it was even worse today, when Aspasia was the organiser, it was at quarter to five, and it had no title but ‘The Boardroom’. Gelon, Odessa and Roxana were the other attendees, but there were no notes on the record.

“That’s a jumpscare and a half,” Gelon shared her thoughts.

“Are we in trouble?” Kassandra turned around. Gelon was hunched over her desk, squinting at the screen and clicking around for context.

“You’d have a better idea than me.”

“Who’s in trouble?” Kleon piped up from behind his desk. “We don’t need trouble.”

“Nobody,” Gelon said, deceptively calm. In her mind’s eye she was probably throwing her monitor at him. When they stood to leave, he probably didn’t notice.

The receptionists were already waiting in the boardroom. Kassandra and Gelon took their signature places, the same they had when Kleon announced his PIP. They were lucky charms now.

“Any idea what this meeting is about?” Roxana asked.

“Well, HR aren’t here,” Gelon relaxed, “so that’s always a good sign.”

“I bet she’s going to come in with a shotgun and blow all our heads off,” said Odessa. She picked at her cuticles then straightened her fingers. “And you know what? I’m past caring.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Aspasia barged in, still staring at her phone. She kicked the doorstop away with the back of her heel. “Much to prepare for,” she said. She wore a charcoal suit, snug at her slim waist, but tailored enough to show her curves. Kassandra forced her eyes to the corner of the table to keep herself from staring. “Right, I’m very conscious of the time,” Aspasia said, finally tucking her phone away. She was too restless to sit, choosing instead to lean over the end of the table, like a general in a war room. “I understand we’ve had a lot of inbound calls this week. It’s largely down to my own achievements and reputation, but the hard work of the marketing team hasn’t gone unnoticed, nor has the composure of reception over increased demand.” They all exchanged looks.

Nobody wanted to be the first to thank her, but to their relief, the pause was short. “I know I can be strict most days, but please understand that it’s a means to an end. I have a vision for this business and my standards are high, but I would be a poor leader if I didn’t reward hard work. I understand the four of you are friends?”

“Sort of,” said Odessa. She was too baffled by the praise to give a decent answer.

“Here.” Aspasia pulled a black card from her pocket. “I’m going to trust Roxana with this, because she’s the most sensible.”

She slid it across the table, and Roxana caught it with her palm. She picked it up and tilted the golden lettering against the light.

“A company card,” she muttered.

“It’s not bottomless, it’s pre-paid,” said Aspasia. “There’s a few hundred on it, more than enough for you to go and get drinks somewhere decent. You’ve worked hard this week. Go out and enjoy yourselves.”

“That’s,” Roxana faltered, “very kind of you. Thank you.”

“Yeah, thanks,” said Odessa. Kassandra only nodded.

“I hate to be a bore, but I must insist that you don’t get smashed. You’re still representatives of the company,” Aspasia lifted a hand. “And keep it to yourselves. I don’t want other teams nipping at my ankles.”

“Of course,” said Gelon, trying to get a glimpse of the card herself, but careful not to grab it. Aspasia’s phone rang. The shrill ringtone tore through the room.

“I have to go,” she said abruptly. “Enjoy yourselves.”

She left without another word. Kassandra was surprised by the generosity, but the others were totally shellshocked.

“What, the fuck, was that?” Odessa asked, with a tight expression. It looked like she was anticipating a jumpscare. Gelon looked straight at Kassandra. “What’s happened to her?”

“The ice queen thaws,” mused Roxana.

“Let’s just go,” Kassandra insisted, “before she changes her mind.”

***

They agreed to forego their usual dive. They took a cab into the city centre and pulled up outside The Jade Vine, a high-end bar which dazzled the streets with its bright fairy lights and glowing sign. It was one of the best bars in Athens, and you could spend a house deposit in there, but they weren’t burning their own money.

It illuminated the scuffle outside. A group of men in black with cameras swarmed the windows. Paparazzi. A mountainous doorman stepped onto the street to shout at them. The bouncer grabbed one by the scruff of his hood and sent him staggering. They scattered after that, lurking close enough to rebound if their target appeared, but the way was clear for the four girls to head inside.

It was a bit too classy for after work drinks. The bar was the widest she’d ever seen, the back wall brimming with spirits she’d never heard of. She peered around to look for beers, but there were hardly any keg pulls to choose from. She cast her eyes instead to the tables. There was a mezzanine on the upper floor, but Kassandra couldn’t quite make out who was up there. Whoever had drawn the paparazzi had hidden well.

The lighting must have damaged their brains, because in a moment of dazzling stupidity, they allowed Odessa to visit the bar unsupervised. It made sense at the time. They’d been out before, and she knew their orders.

But she didn’t come back with them. She came to their table with an enormous tray, packed with drinks of all shapes, sizes, and colours. Kassandra wasn’t sure whether to compare her a potion seller or a gentrified Oktoberfest waitress.

“Oh, Jesus,” Gelon sighed, as Odessa gently slid the mass onto the table. She was stronger than she looked.

“I just took the cocktail menu and asked for one of everything,” said Odessa. “Saves us getting up, doesn’t it?”

“I bet the bar staff loved you for that,” Kassandra lifted a mystery tumbler and swilled it around. It was a clear drink with a lemon twirl in it. She wrinkled her nose at the chemical smell and put it back down.

“Who gives a fuck? It’s not like we’ll be back, is it?”

“I can’t drink all this!” Roxana protested. “I have a training programme to stick to! I’ll ruin my cut.”

“You and me both.” Kassandra picked up another drink. “It’s fine.”

“Fine for you, you’re built like a tank.” Roxana said.

“Strong enough to carry us home!” Gelon cheered, lifting her tequila sunrise up.

Perhaps the receptionist really was just thinking of the practicalities when she brought over enough drinks for two football teams. Maybe she’d simply gotten carried away with the company card. Now they were away from the prying eyes of the office, they only had one rule; not to get smashed. When two hours had passed and the tray was half empty, it didn’t bode well at all.

It was easy to lose track of drinks while fun was being had. A job in Kosmos House was a part-time prison sentence, but the place produced some absurd stories, and reception held the keys to them all. This time, it was about how Stentor from Sales let slip that he sometimes shared bathwater with his dog, a Jack Russell. It started as a joke, but after tonight, there would be a ridiculous rumour that he was using the poor thing as a wire brush. It was bitchy at best and insensitive at worst, but it had them in hysterics. They wouldn’t do it if he wasn’t an arsehole.

“I’ve missed this,” said Gelon, on the back end of a laugh. “We haven’t gotten together since what, the summer social?”

“Yeah, but Kassandra wasn’t there for the afters,” said Odessa.

No, no, no, no, no.

“You have been away a lot,” Roxana said to her. “Gelon says you’ve been with a woman, but she doesn’t know who it is.”

“I thought you told each other everything.” Odessa pushed another empty glass to the growing pile at the end of the table. She flashed a grin. “Why the secret? Is she ugly?”

“No,” Kassandra groaned. “It’s not important.”

“Oh, look at your face! Of course it is! Come on, why so cagey? Is it someone we know?” Roxana asked.

“Is it someone from work?” pressed Odessa.

“Oh shit,” Gelon drunkenly mumbled. It was just the cue they needed. Their faces lit up.

With the social being mentioned seconds earlier, her absence being noted, and the commotion around the second Uber, they were seconds away from a realisation. Kassandra had to think fast, even though her brain was laden with vodka.

“It’s a celebrity,” she blurted. “Yeah, an A-lister. I can’t say anything.”

“Bullshit,” Odessa laughed. “What A-lister is fucking Kassandra from Marketing? Come on. Is it one of the accountants?”

“Malaka,” Kassandra cursed, “she thinks she’s Akinator!” It earned a laugh, but they still waited for a further response. Gelon knew what was coming. Odessa would keep circling the answer.

“Someone from sales?” she leaned forward to press. “Is it that really weird girl by the walkway with her baby photo on her desk?”

“No!”

“Come on,” Odessa groaned, mainly at herself. “Who’s hot in the office? Think!”

This was it. The final ticks on the incline of a rollercoaster before the world came crashing down.

Then by miracle, a saviour appeared. She saw the crimson dress first, then the dark hair, the sharp features and knowing smile came last. Who better to come to her rescue than the most famous model in Greece?

“Kassandra?” Anthousa arrived at the table. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Anthousa,” Kassandra shot to her feet. “Sorry, if you don’t mind,” Kassandra said to the others, shuffling out of the booth. They were too stunned to mind. “I’ll make my way out so we can speak privately,” she said, pointedly.

“Does this come as a rescue?” Anthousa asked lowly, resting her hand on her back as they walked away. “You seem eager to escape.”

“You have no idea,” Kassandra said. “What brings you to Athens?”

“To Athens? Business. To this bar? Leisure. Is Aspasia with you?”

“Not tonight. I think your friends outside would have scared her off,” Kassandra nodded to the window. Dark bodies moved past the frosting, but it was hard to tell if they were paparazzi or not.

“Pah, it would have been fine. What is this, a work outing?” Anthousa looked past Kassandra’s shoulder to the booth they’d left behind. The three all ducked their heads, appearing to be in hushed, but intense deliberations.

“Reception and Marketing,” Kassandra explained. “We’ve had a busy week, our press releases have had a lot of coverage and the phones have been ringing like mad. She’s given us an expensed card and sent us out to unwind.”

“At least she’s giving you credit, but she’s managed to round up two teams universally infamous for office gossip and drowned you all in alcohol,” Anthousa laughed. “She’s a brilliant manager of money, but she can misjudge people, bless her dark heart.

“She’s trying,” Kassandra shrugged, “but you’re right. They were grilling me on why I’ve been so secretive lately. I had to tell them I was seeing a celebrity.”

“Ah. I’ve walked into an illicit rumour,” Anthousa said.

“Sorry.” Kassandra shrugged. “I owe you a drink, I realise.”

“Not at all,” Anthousa waved. “I’m not like our little friend. I like a bit of scandal. If we’re going to do this, we may as well put on a show. My car is waiting outside. I’ll tell them you’re leaving with me.”

“Really?” Kassandra shouldn’t have laughed, but she couldn’t help herself. Anthousa’s eyes were wild with mischief.

“You both owe me a favour. Remember that.”

The model linked her arm with Kassandra’s and led her back to the Kosmos table. Odessa and Roxana straightened their backs at the approach. Gelon only blinked in confusion. “Evening, girls.”

“Evening, Miss Anthousa,” Odessa said in a haze. She’d had more than enough bizarreness for one day.

“I hope you don’t mind if I steal Kassandra away for the night?” Anthousa squeezed Kassandra’s arm, and gave her a sultry look that overstayed its welcome. Bad acting, but they weren’t to know. “My car is outside, see, and we have a lot to catch up on.”

“Sure!” Roxana piped up. She waved them off, but unintentionally perhaps, it looked like she was shooing them. “She’s all yours.”

“You’re very kind,” said Anthousa. “Have yourselves a good night.”

Kassandra could feel their eyes burning into their backs as they walked to the door.

“Keep your eyes down,” Anthousa warned, “and head straight for the car.”

“Why?” Trust Kassandra to forget, but she was too late. The door was already opened. Anthousa stepped into the street, and the paparazzi swarmed them like vultures. Kassandra brought her forearm up to shield her from the flashes. The doorman spread his arms to keep them at bay so they could rush into the black Mercedes.

As soon as the doors shut, the engine revved, and the driver took them safely away. Kassandra watched them shrink in the rear-view window. Kassandra told the driver her address, and he led them down the empty roads.

“This is going to be the talk of the office,” said Kassandra, letting out a deep breath.

“Oh I know.” Anthousa touched up her lip gloss despite her grin. “Aspasia’s going to hit the roof. She’s a very jealous person, you know, but we agreed she needed humbling.”

“Is this what this is?” asked Kassandra. “You’re up to no good?”

“No. I’m only messing, and she’ll hopefully know that. She won’t hold you responsible. If she does, you tell me, and I’ll set her straight.”

It felt like years before they reached her apartment block. She thanked them both and climbed out, letting go of a heavy sigh when the door closed. She watched them drive away, wondering if it would be more merciful for them to reverse and flatten her to death. Monday would be a hurricane.

Chapter Text

Madrid was a living nightmare. It was an annual conference of the greatest business minds in Europe, an event Kosmos couldn’t have dreamed of before, but Aspasia’s hard-earned reputation won them an invite. Rightly or wrongly, when she was forced to bring three members of the board with her, the least she expected was to see some proper conduct.

Elpenor from Acquisitions was rude and dismissive to everyone they came across. The man thought he was God’s gift to the human race, and not a single soul was worthy of his time. He refused to speak any language but Greek, rendering his presence in the Spanish capital completely useless.

Diona from HR disappeared early in the conference. She never announced her departure, and for hours they had no idea where she was until her Instagram story showed the flashing inside of a nightclub. She resurfaced the following morning, staggering back to the hotel at the same time Aspasia woke up.

Kleon refused to network in any capacity, opting instead to follow Aspasia around like a lost puppy. He spoke constantly, bending her ear with pointless buzzwords and bizarre marketing strategies pulled directly from the articles she’d seen him read on the plane. It took hours for him to realise that his attempt to gain favour wasn’t working, and he took a nasty turn after that, scowling at everything and everyone before he stormed off to his room.

Then, for the grand finale, they all had to board another four-hour flight and pretend they didn’t loathe each other. Aspasia didn’t get home until 9PM on Sunday, and by that time, she felt twenty years older. She didn’t even care that she had work in the morning. All she wanted was to get into bed and put this wretched weekend behind her, but her suitcase was in the way, and she now had to unpack.

Kassandra just might’ve been the only person in the business she could stand. She called her as soon as she knew Aspasia was home, and just the sound of her voice managed to alleviate some tension, but it was about to come back with a vengeance.

“How was Madrid?” she asked. “Did you manage to drink any Sangrias?” The answer was no, but she was sure she’d seen Diona bring some up the side of the hotel while they waited for their taxi.

“The less said about it, the better. I appreciate your call, but I have a lot to sort out before tomorrow. Do you need me for anything urgent?”

“Just a heads up, really, uhh,” Kassandra then fumbled. Aspasia stopped folding her shirt and set her jaw.

“What happened?”

“To cut a long story short, there was a bit of a situation, and Anthousa had to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

Aspasia threw her shirt back onto the bed, and it unfolded itself against the bumps of the sheet.

“What sort of situation calls for that?”

“The receptionists wouldn’t stop nagging me about who I was seeing, and they knew I was hiding something. I had to tell them I was seeing a celebrity, and Anthousa just happened to be…there.”

“Of course she did,” Aspasia made no effort to hide her irritation. “I’m sure she was more than happy to help.”

“Friends mess with each other, I suppose,” said Kassandra. “Like, for the past week, Gelon’s been kicking the pedal under my chair every time she passes, and I sink to the floor.”

The change in topic was unwelcome. Aspasia had been privy to the pair’s antics for months now. This wasn’t news, and far worse images were crashing through her head. Anthousa had been calling her several times a week to ask her advice on business matters, each time nagging her to join her business. Aspasia had known for a while that her friend was jealous of her, and she could be petty and vengeful when she didn’t get her way.

“Did she kiss you?”

“What-no! She’s been with Gyke for years and -“

“Not Gelon, for God’s sake! Anthousa.” Aspasia pressed.

“Oh, no.”

“Did she put her hands on you?”

“Well yes, but she’s a tactile person, isn’t she?”

“So,” Aspasia said coldly, “on what grounds are you giving me a heads up?”

Kassandra laughed nervously. “She…might have given me a lift home, and implied that I was spending the night with her.”

A burning sensation took hold of her chest, rising to the back of her neck. She became hyperaware of her breathing, every rise and fall in her lungs. She glowered at her bed, knowing she wouldn’t rest easy that night. This, she decided, was the last time she did a favour for anybody.

***

She thankfully had the foresight to arrange a late start on Monday, not arriving until 10AM, but this meant the day had a head-start on her. She had to make a stop at reception to check that no important calls had come through for her.

“Morning,” she said to the duo. “Have I missed anything?”

“Some guy called Markos rang, insisted you’ve spoken to him about his ouzo business,” said Roxana. “He sounded like a tire kicker, so I just told him we’d call back if it was of interest.”

“Good call,” said Aspasia. She’d almost forgotten about the strange little man. Not wanting to elaborate or explain, she chose to keep walking.

“Thanks again for Friday,” Roxana said, so courtesy forced her to stop. “It was eventful.”

“Glad you enjoyed yourselves,” Aspasia said curtly.

“Not as much as Kassandra,” Odessa snickered.

“What happened?” Aspasia turned around, falling victim to her dark curiosity.

The two receptionists swapped tentative looks. They were bursting at the seams to tell the story, but weren’t quite friendly enough with the Director to spill the gory details.

“Just look at this morning’s paper,” said Roxana. “I found it on the train.”

Who’s That Girl? Anthousa Escapes with Handsome Stranger After Boozy Night in the Capital, read the headline. The photo was almost comical. Kassandra half-hiding her face from the flash, Anthousa parading across the pavement with a coy smile. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“That’s The Jade Vine.” She recognised the bar by the gaudy lighting. She also knew there was a back door to the alleyway for more subtle exits. She knew Anthousa knew this too, because they’d visited together before, and Aspasia refused to be seen in such a tacky and overpriced establishment. “Why leave through the front?”

“I like how that’s your question,” Roxana laughed, taking the paper back, “and not what on Earth is Anthousa doing with our Kassandra?”

“I mean, that we know,” said Odessa. “I wouldn’t kick her out of bed if she crawled in.”

If Aspasia could make it to the end of the day without killing someone, it would be her greatest achievement yet.

She hoped, as she walked away from the two witnesses, that she’d heard the last of it, but the hope was quickly squashed. The office walkway faced a major blockage in the Marketing department. People had gathered from every team, some leaning over the filing cabinets, others standing with their coffees, all attention on the woman at the heart of the scandal. They passed the paper around, each taking turns to smirk at it.

Kassandra stood in the middle of the floor with her hands raised, as if every question was a loaded gun. Kleon scowled at the back of her head, apparently fuming that the focus wasn’t on him.

“It was a misunderstanding,” she said. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but we’re just friends. Barely even that! Acquaintances at most.”

“How does one end up just friends with Anthousa of all people?” asked a credit officer.

“Why are you covering your face like you’re leaving a court trial?” asked a woman from legal.

“Why’s she holding on to you like that, and why does she look so smug?” asked a salesman.

“Have you all got nothing better to do?” Aspasia’s harsh tone stole the floor. In sudden silence, they filtered away. Despite the sternness, Kassandra looked relieved. Gelon, however, stared at her like she was a live grenade about to explode. Kleon was still glaring at his Junior. “Kassandra, I want to speak to you before you leave,” said Aspasia with a pointed finger.

“Of course,” said Kassandra, without a trace of optimism.

***

Even the sacred solitude of her office couldn’t settle her mind. If anything, it made it worse. She was alone with her thoughts now, and not a single one was pleasant. Her relationship with Kassandra could not be public. She would have loved not to meet her in secret, to go on some actual dates, or to not have to glance over her shoulder every time they were together. For another woman to claim her, first to her own colleagues, then indirectly to the papers, was a mockery.

It should have been a small mercy, that it was Anthousa and not a stranger, but it only turned her stomach more. Now every idiot in the office was imagining her girlfriend with her friend, and before she knew it, her nails were digging into her palms.

Her door swung open, and Kleon strolled in on his phone as if he owned the place. Aspasia jumped to her feet, shocked and enraged by the intrusion, but he didn’t react.

“Yeah, the girl is one of ours,” he said to the microphone. “It’s Kassandra, who works on my team. If we want to protect the company image, we need to act fast. Ideally, I’d want her gone by the end of the week.”

“On your team, you say?” The voice belonged to the CEO. “Well, why doesn’t she know better?”

“You don’t understand. I’ve been trying to manage her out for months. I try not to give her work where I can, but Aspasia is quite reliant on her.”

“Aspasia?” Karagianis sounded baffled. “But why?”

“I’ve got her here.”

The game was on. Kleon must have planned this surprise attack the moment he saw the paper. It was a tactic she’d seen a million times. To spring a call on someone with a higher up, not explain the context, and watch as they flounder. When it came to underhanded tactics, Aspasia could spar with the best of them. Kleon’s mouth fell open as she lifted the phone from his hand, like she was picking up a figurative gauntlet.

“Just what is Kleon referring to?” she asked. “He’s just barged into my office without knocking, see. Am I required in this discussion?”

“What’s this about our staff in the tabloids?” Karagianis asked. “Some girl from Marketing on a raucous night out with Anthousa?”

“If, and I place a lot of emphasis on if this needs to be a disciplinary matter, we can’t justify it without proof of damage. The office only knows it’s Kassandra because we recognise her internally. Nowhere in that article does it include her name, or any reference to this company. This has nothing to do with us.”

“No,” Kleon interjected. “This took place at a company outing. There is a spend on the company card at that bar, on that night.”

“What?” Karagianis fired up again. “That complicates things!”

“All it would take is for a journalist to phone the bar and ask,” Kleon added, the tips of his ears lifting as he tried to suppress his glee.

“With respect,” Aspasia straightened her posture. “His understanding of public interest and data protection is wanting. The bar is legally unable to disclose that information. If they did, we could hold them over a barrel. I know some lawyers that would drain them dry.”

“I see,” said Karagianis, uplifted by the industry-relevant analogy.

“This is a storm in a teacup, sir. Kassandra is a reliable hand. She’s been quite instrumental to the rebranding strategy, and I won’t consider letting her go over a PR incident that will never happen.”

“Hm. It takes a lot for you to give credit, I’ve noticed. Very well, if you like the girl, you’re more than welcome to handle this yourself.”

“It was a little premature to involve you in this, Mr Karagianis,” she said to twist the knife. “In future, if Kleon is concerned about the company image, I would advise he consult me before escalating it to you.”

“I think you’re right,” said Karagianis. “Just be careful. Have a word with the staff about conduct, if you can. People already think we’re con artists. We don’t want to be known as sleazebags too.”

“Agreed,” said Aspasia, as if she wasn’t the Commander in Sleaze herself. “Enjoy the rest of your day. Sorry that you were unduly disturbed.”

“See you later.” He always rushed to get off the phone. With that, he was gone, and she could’ve sworn the room’s air was lighter for it.

She bounced the weight of Kleon’s phone in her hand, and took a second to size him up. The manoeuvre was a blatant one. In overblowing this to the CEO, he was attempting two things. The first was to force Kassandra out in a knee-jerk reaction and cause a staffing deficit in the Marketing department, which would enable him to stay. The second was to plant a seed of doubt in Aspasia’s man-management. It was exactly the type of shitty stunt Aspasia might’ve pulled if she was in his situation, but she would have been a million times more convincing.

“You’d score an own goal against your team just to see your name on the scoresheet?” she asked as she passed his phone back to him. Kleon practically snatched it from her.

She slipped around her desk to take her seat, under no illusion that this backstabber was worth standing for.

“These days, recognition is hard to come by,” he said bitterly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re playing favourites.”

“But you do know better, don’t you?” She hit back. “Since you had no trouble getting in here, I’m sure you can show yourself out. God knows you’ve got work to do.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but to his credit, he thought better of it. He left quietly, with the brooding attitude of a petulant child.

Kleon’s actions were down to desperation. Kassandra’s could be explained by panic and alcohol-induced stupidity, but Anthousa’s troubled her. She didn’t have to leave with Kassandra, and even then, she knew how to leave quietly. She wanted to be seen, she wanted Aspasia to know, and she wanted a reaction out of her.

But why? It made no sense to aggravate someone you were seeking to poach. When Kassandra first told her, she’d simply assumed Anthousa was throwing her toys out of the pram. But the more she thought about it, the more she realised that she knew her better. Anthousa was smarter than that. She was tired of guessing. She scrolled through her phone and called the perpetrator.

“So this is what it takes to get you to return a call. How’s life with horns on?” joked Anthousa.

“I don’t find you funny,” Aspasia said flatly. “Why did you do it? Tell me, or I’m selling my shares.”

“Your girl was in a spot of trouble, and because you’re a deeply understanding person that would never overreact, of course.”

“You want to talk about overreactions?” Aspasia said. “I know you were a red herring, but why did you have to play your part so flagrantly, and why the front door? I’ve just had to defend Kassandra’s position to the CEO. Did you consider the damage?”

“No. Do you know why? At any other company, it would warrant nothing more than a light ribbing, and nobody would care. Hardly my fault that you’re wasting your talents in that viper pit.”

“I see,” Aspasia realised. “You did this to throw a spanner in the works, didn’t you? To unsettle me, to flush me out.”

“I would do no such thing,” Anthousa said facetiously. “If, however, you take this as a sign, then you’re always welcome here. There are more beautiful sapphic women than fingers on your hand. You can even bring your adorable idiot if you like.”

“Listen. I have made my position very clear, and no number of games will change that. I am staying where I am. I will not compromise my career for anybody. Not Perikles, not Kassandra, and certainly not you. I am not, under any circumstances, joining your fucking tinpot of a company. Goodbye.”

She gave Anthousa no time to respond. She hung up, knowing she’d regret what she said, but she was too angry to care. She wasn’t going to apologise, and rightly so. In a further attempt to be funny, Anthousa then sent her a PDF of Seneca’s On Anger, with the message ‘for your lunch breaks x’. It happened to piss her off beyond reason, and now she was fighting the unstoic urge to dash her phone against the wall.

She was tightly wound, and only one thing could uncoil her.

***

She waited, as usual, until the office was empty. Like clockwork, the workers left in their typical order, starting with the rest of Marketing and finishing with Accounts.

Kassandra waited dutifully at her desk. She was glued to her phone, and she bounced her leg rapidly, clearly anxious to leave and in no mood for a lecture. For nine hours she’d been hassled with invasive questions, or gawped at like a zoo animal.

She rose from her chair at the sound of Aspasia’s approaching heels.

“Look,” she said as she turned to face her, “however shit your day has been, mine has been-“

She was silenced by the firm impact of Aspasia’s lips. Catching her off-balance, she was able to push her backwards so she perched on her desk and brought their height difference level.

“Oh,” Kassandra whispered with a playful smile. Aspasia wasn’t here to flirt. She bunched her collar in her fist and yanked her in again to kiss her.

Once she recovered from the initial surprise, Kassandra returned her enthusiasm. She pulled her closer by the waist, easing her between her open thighs. Their breaths grew heavier as the kisses deepened. Aspasia felt a surge of desire. She grabbed Kassandra’s wrists and pinned them to the desk by her sides.

“I thought you didn’t want to do this here,” said Kassandra.

“I don’t. You’re going to get in that car of yours and come to my apartment,” Aspasia demanded. “This won’t be quick.”

Kassandra smirked. “I should stop making plans on weeknights.”

“You should know what to expect when you cross me,” said Aspasia. Kassandra’s cocky expression held its place, but there was a challenge in her eyes. She wouldn’t take her punishment easily, not after their last rendezvous.

***

Aspasia waited in her apartment. It was reminiscent of the first time they fucked, their clumsy arrangement after the summer social. It was just three months ago, but it could have been three years, since so much had changed. Back then, it was anxiety that made her pace around her living room, and now it was impatience. Kassandra left minutes before her. They would have travelled down the same roads. How on earth could she be late?

She arrived an entire 40 minutes later than expected, nonchalant as ever.

“You’re late,” Aspasia scolded.

“Better late than never, no?” Kassandra threw her jacket over a chair. “I had to make a stop at home. I hope you understand.” She held her rucksack open. The strap-on was in there, neatly packed in a transparent sealed bag.

It was the second-worst scheme she’d seen that day. She was trying to tempt her into giving up the reins again. In fairness, any other day it might’ve worked, but she had to put her foot down this time.

“Take your clothes off, put it on, and wait in my room,” said Aspasia.

Kassandra took the order with a wink, with no idea what she was in for.

Aspasia loved to make a point as much as she hated to wait, and she was going to make Kassandra hate it even more.

Knowing what was waiting made the protest difficult, but she always had something to keep her occupied. She sat down with her laptop and answered a few emails, and took the opportunity to organise her calendar.

Despite the apartment’s price, the walls were criminally thin. After just twenty minutes, she could hear Kassandra pacing restlessly in the other room. She wanted to draw this out, to make her wait until she was nothing short of desperate, but Aspasia’s own willpower was deceptively weak. Half an hour was the longest she could wait. When she gave in and finally headed for the bedroom, she made a conscious effort to slow her footsteps.

Kassandra had her back to the door. She turned around, drawing attention across her broad back, then her taut waist. Black leather cut starkly across her bronze skin, and the strap protruded from her hips, bouncing lightly as she walked towards her. The window’s amber sunset set her form on fire, another perk of high-rise living.

“You’re late,” said Kassandra, masking her frustration with a taunt. Aspasia struggled to tear her eyes upwards, but she managed to meet the jab with a glare.

“I’ll do what I want with you,” she said, “at my own pace.”

“Is that really what you want?” Kassandra edged closer, and Aspasia hated that she had to look up at her. She took the Director’s hand and guided it to the toy, wrapping it lasciviously around the shaft. “You wouldn’t ask me to put this on if you didn’t want me to use it.”

“This time, I’m in charge.”

She tightened her grip around the strap, and pushed it to walk Kassandra to the wall. The taller woman tilted her chin down, pleading to be kissed, but Aspasia went straight for her neck. She kissed her beneath her ear and worked her way down.

Once she reached the collarbone, where she knew could be covered, she dug her teeth in and sucked the skin hard to bring a dark bruise to the surface. She was pleased with her work, red skin flooding darker, knowing she’d left a mark. Every time Kassandra looked in the mirror, it would remind her just who she belonged to.

So she left more. She moved down her body and left a dark trail from her chest to her hipbone. The dark shape of the strap caught her attention, dangerously close to her face, and a wicked idea came to the fore. It was lewd and bordered on whorish, but Aspasia was a woman of impulse.

She settled down on her knees and brought her hands around Kassandra’s legs, raking her nails down the hard backs of her thighs. She took the cock’s tip into her mouth. Its thickness burned an ache into her jaw, and the taste of silicone was far from pleasant. She very nearly regretted it, until she heard Kassandra’s sharp, almost panicked breath, and felt the subsequent tremor in her legs.

Aspasia sucked it as though it were real, running her tongue over its end and taking as much in as she could. Her gag reflex stopped her at the half-way point, but she could cover the deficit with her free hand.

The other woman could only watch, welling with more arousal than she knew what to do with. Eventually she forgot herself and rocked forward, almost forcing the toy down Aspasia’s throat, which she had to answer with a firm shove. Kassandra’s backside hit the wall, and she knew her place again.

As Aspasia’s touch wandered around the soft skin of her inner thighs, another idea came to her, and it was too good to ignore. Two fingertips ran behind the base of the strap, across the slick heat of her cunt, and slipped inside her with no resistance.

She’d never heard Kassandra moan like this before, pitchy and broken, a complete betrayal of her stature. In the seconds it took for her to catch herself, the damage was done. She was painstakingly wet. She moved her fingers in and out and curled them slightly to tease her G-spot.

“Fuck,” she panted, “Aspasia, I—” and the rest of her words were lost, throttled. It was lucky that Aspasia’s mouth was occupied, otherwise, she knew she would be grinning unbearably.

As she neared her peak, Aspasia took the cruel opportunity to withdraw.

“Get on the bed,” she ordered. “I want to ride you.”

Kassandra fell silent. There was a hint of resentment behind her eyes, but it was quickly displaced by curiosity. She eased herself onto the mattress and Aspasia followed her closely, like a wildcat stalking its prey.

Once Kassandra’s elbows reached the bottom of her pillows, Aspasia undressed herself and climbed in position to mount her. She gently lowered herself onto her cock, taking it all in until she could feel the warm skin underneath her. She released a deep breath of relief. In careful, practiced motions, she rolled back and forth, enjoying the girth of the toy at her own leisure.

Her lover was completely enthralled. Her eyes glazed over in adoration, and Aspasia stared in return. Kassandra was a beautiful sight, perhaps twice her size, but reduced to a bruised and defeated mess between her thighs.

Aspasia lay her hands against her broad chest and leaned forward. The leverage allowed her to bounce, taking its length from the hilt to the tip. It felt so good that it was impossible not to get carried away. She picked up her speed with pleasured groans, slamming herself against Kassandra’s hips to pound her into the mattress, until fatigue forced her to slow down. Kassandra wouldn’t allow herself to be simply used for long. She planted her feet so she could thrust into her from below. Eventually, Aspasia’s slowing movements were redundant, and she was able to be still, with the younger woman driving the motion entirely.

As her control slipped away, her mind wandered. She wanted more. She remembered how it felt last time, Kassandra’s dizzying strength, and just how deep she could drive that cock with a simple snap of her hips. The feeling was mutual.

“Let me fuck you from behind,” Kassandra whispered.

There was a shameful lack of argument. Aspasia slipped free to steady herself on all fours, and Kassandra wasted no time getting behind her. She drove her knee between Aspasia’s legs and shoved them further open, bringing her lower and positioning her how she pleased.

It should’ve riled Aspasia to be moved so haphazardly, without a shred of respect. She should’ve said something. She should’ve scolded her, but her lust overpowered her logic. What surfaced was another thing entirely.

“Fuck me,” she pleaded. “Make me yours.”

She might’ve preferred it if Kassandra had made a vile retort, but her lack of reaction made it more degrading. She just tsked, as if she’d expected this all along, and she needed no convincing.

When the strap entered her for the second time, she felt twice as sensitive. It could have been the tight angle, just how wet she’d gotten, or the thrill of this new predicament. She’d dominated this woman just moments before, wound her up to the point of snapping, and now she was at her mercy.

Kassandra took her time at first. She rocked her hips slowly, seeming to appreciate the vulnerable sight of her, moving her hands up her waist to cup her ribcage. She fucked her with a steady rhythm. A slow withdrawal, and a quick push to ram it back in.
Aspasia arched her back in surrender, gripping the sheets beneath her until her knuckles whitened.

“That’s it,” Kassandra’s voice was deep and heavy, laden with pleasure and effort, “you take it so well.” Aspasia's moaned, reeling from the praise she didn't know she needed.

“Harder,” she begged.

“Anything for you,” Kassandra answered. Aspasia shuddered in anticipation as a strong hand anchored its grip at the crook of her neck.

And it was every bit as torturous as she wanted. Kassandra rammed her with ferocious speed. She felt herself tighten, her tender walls rubbing against the toy’s unyielding firmness. Kassandra’s pace was relentless. With every thrust it became harder to think, and before long Aspasia was seeing stars. Every sound she made was laden with ecstasy. Soon enough, she couldn't think straight, or even think at all.

She was pulled back to reality when Kassandra’s hand snaked around her hips to press her clit. Aspasia cried out, trying hard not to scream as her orgasm crashed through her. She slumped forward, gripping onto her pillow for dear life until her lover slowed to a gentle stop.

Kassandra was quick to unbuckle the toy so she could lay at her side. Aspasia welcomed her with a tight hug, resting her head on her shoulder as she caught her breath.

“Are you alright?” Kassandra whispered and brushed her stray hairs around her ear. Aspasia gave a short nod.

“Are you?” she asked in return. “You didn’t finish.”

“That was enough,” said Kassandra. "Don't you worry."

“I love you.” The words fell out of Aspasia's mouth. Her heart skipped a beat, and the bliss of her afterglow was quickly replaced by dread.

“I…” Kassandra sat up, “love you too.”

Aspasia's head flooded with crippling embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to say it, and the revelation was new even to her. But she couldn’t bear the thought of Kassandra saying it back just to reassure her.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable,” she said.

“No, no, not at all. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Kassandra ran her hand through her hair.

“Surprised that I love you?” Aspasia defended her against the CEO because she loved her. She was driven mad with jealousy because she loved her. She sacrificed her pride for pleasure because she loved her, and she knew she was a fool not to see it earlier.

“I didn’t think you’d say it.” Kassandra said. “I’m glad you did. I’ve been in love with you since Korinth, but I didn’t have the stones to admit it.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Aspasia said, as if she hadn’t felt the same way. The only difference was that she’d failed to be so honest with herself.

Kassandra had shown her that there was more to life than digits and green arrows. Aspasia gave so much of herself to her work. The company couldn’t love her back, but she didn’t have the courage to step away.

She didn’t know who she was without struggle. Since far too young, all she knew was to strategise, execute, and claw her way upwards. If she stopped, she was sure she would lose her mind. After all, a shark would sink if it didn’t swim. In the time she spent at leisure, her mind would rattle and protest, crying to be put to better use. It was probably the reason she was so physical with Kassandra on their weekends, and it was a relief that she didn’t mind it.

An unshakeable dilemma loomed over her. There were two driving forces in her life, Kassandra and Kosmos Investments, but she didn’t have the capacity to commit fully to either. She had a nagging feeling that one day, life would force her to choose, and she could only hope that it would never come.

Chapter Text

It was bleakly peaceful to be one of the first to the office, walking past rows of empty desks yet to be filled with arseholes and prattlers. It allowed Kassandra to skip most of the small talk she didn’t want, and the agony of accidental eye contact with pointless greetings attached.

But as with everything, there were drawbacks. Every so often she’d come across a jumpscare, like the board members shouting at each other in the conference room, or Aspasia swearing and blinding down the phone in her office. Today the nasty surprise was Kleon, early to work, eagerly waiting in his little corner.

“Good morning, Kassandra,” he rose to greet her. He walked over with his arms raised like a pompous Roman orator. “How is my favourite employee?”

This alone was unsettling. He’d never once arrived early, and he’d certainly never been so cheerful.

“Truth be told, I thought you hated me,” she said, knowing he tried to have her fired yesterday. He only chuckled.

“How could I hate you, Kassandra?” He rested his hands on her shoulders and shook them. “You’ve saved my job.”

“What?” She tried not to sound disappointed. “Okay, great, but please back off a bit.”

Kleon laughed at her discomfort, but he dropped his arms and sauntered back to his desk.

“You wouldn’t say that,” he stage-whispered, “If I had dark hair, a pair of tits, and a name beginning with A, would you?”

Suddenly her mouth felt very dry. She swallowed thickly, but it did nothing to help.

“What are you talking about?” She practically coughed up the question. Kleon smirked and tapped his little webcam. The green light gleamed at her, and she followed its new field of vision to the open office. It had a front row view of her desk.

Oh shit. Blood drained from her face as she remembered Aspasia’s advance last night, the way she kissed her, and her eager hands. The game was up, and of all the people, it just had to land with Kleon.

He scooped up his laptop and prodded her arm.

“Let's go,” he said. He swaggered over to Aspasia’s office, gave two pathetic knocks with a single knuckle and then shoved his way in.

“Will you stop doing that?” Aspasia’s voice was cutting, but Kleon only laughed. He was over the moon.

“Good morning Your Majesty. I have something I think you’ll want to see,” he said.

Aspasia’s look was one of anger and bewilderment. But her eyes narrowed, and she sat back once she noticed Kassandra’s anxiety. He slid his laptop in front of her and opened it. She stared at it with such bloodthirsty contempt that Kassandra half expected her to snap it over her knee.

Kassandra didn’t want to look at his screen. She wanted to spring on her heels and sprint straight out of the door and run as far away from the office as possible. Better yet, she could save herself the effort and fling dramatically herself from the top floor, but life was never going to be that simple. Kleon hit his spacebar, and the nightmare began.

Without audio, the footage seemed far worse than it truly was. It showed Kassandra standing from her chair with a conciliatory look on her face, like she was trying to calm a wild animal. Then Aspasia pounced, knocking Kassandra backwards and kissing her roughly. Even when Kassandra kissed her back, it looked incredibly one-sided.

Kleon closed his laptop and looked between them, expectantly. Kassandra was a bundle of nerves, but Aspasia did an expert job of hiding hers.

“Okay?” Aspasia shrugged and shook her head. “What do you want, an award?”

“Don’t try to downplay this,” Kleon said, pointing at the machine. "You’re not fooling me.”

“What of it, Kleon?” she asked. “Sure, personal relationships are against the company guidelines, but filming in a private office is a violation of GDPR.”

Kleon folded his arms and ignored her reasoning. “What might Karagianis say?”

“Whose side do you think he’ll take?” Aspasia asked coolly. “You are replaceable. I am not.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Kleon wagged his finger. “Nice try. I know Karagianis well. He’s an old-fashioned man. What this shows is that you’re keeping secrets, you’re dishonest. You’ve had a clandestine fuck with a Marketing Junior, the very same one you defended just a day ago.”

He walked over the window and fidgeted with a plant. He ran his thumb over the leaf, assuming it to be fake, and he jumped a little when it snapped.

“I mean, it’s just so fucking stupid, Aspasia. It’s such an unforced error. If you’re hiding shit like this, what else might you hide? You hate the board, I know, but you need their support if you want things done. You won’t pass a single motion through them if they catch wind of this, and you can’t get rid of them if you can’t pass a motion.”

Aspasia huffed, a crack in her façade. “Enough of this, you’re starting to bore me. What exactly are you threatening?”

“You’ve tried to fuck me over, but I’m a reasonable man. I’m going to give you chance to leave with your pride intact. I want my PIP cancelled, I want an upgrade to my job title, and I want your resignation by the end of the day,” he said. “If you don’t, I’m going to fucking destroy your standing in this company. I will send this footage to the entire Athens office, with Karagianis CC’d in. If I go down, I bring you with me.”

This was such a stupid, self-destructive thing to do, but Kleon had lost his mind a while ago. He’d worked at the company for most of his life. Kassandra was no genius, but she knew that if a finance company halts its growth, stakeholders will assume disaster. Without Aspasia’s momentum, it would trip and fall over, but it would survive. Her notice period would be four long, bitter months, but Kleon would cling onto this company by the smallest of cracks, even if it cut into his fingers.

“I accept your terms,” said Aspasia. “Your revised contract shall be with you by noon.”

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Kleon laughed. He picked up his laptop and strutted over to the door. “One more thing. I know what you scheming cunts are like. The email to Karagianis and the others is already in my drafts. If I see a hint of collusion between the two of you today, I won’t hesitate to hit send.”

***

Kassandra stared at her screen, eyes unfocused. She couldn’t work with a smoking gun pointed at her, and every few seconds she could feel Kleon’s watchful eyes burning through her. The only relief came at lunch time, when Kleon got up to sign the contract for his new title. He was back within a minute, and it only felt worse after that. Another hour dragged on, until finally, her work phone rang with Aspasia’s name.

“Pretend it’s Odessa,” said Aspasia.

“Hey, Odessa.” Kassandra quickly answered. “Is it another inbound call?”

“Everything is in hand on my end. I can almost guarantee his silence, but I need your help. I’m going to send you a text with his login details. I need you to delete those files, by any means necessary,”

“Sure,” Kassandra said. She tapped a pen on her desk. “How can I help?

“If he has the email in his drafts, the files will be accessible from his phone too. You’ll need to swipe that first, then pull the fire alarm.”

“What- that’s a bit-“

“Drastic, I know, but we don’t have much time,” said Aspasia. “Do what you need to, and I trust you to figure it out. I will deal with the aftermath.”

She put the phone down and risked a look back to Kleon’s desk. His mobile was face-down next to him, and he went nowhere without it. She couldn’t sit still as she scraped her mind for a plan. It would take a bold move. He noticed her looking, and returned her attention with a scowl.

“What?” he pressed.

“I’m just going to the kitchen,” she said. “Do you want a coffee?” His suspicion turned to smugness.

“Oh, of course. Go on then.”

She walked down the aisle, relieved to be away from him, but terrified by the stunt she had to pull. She arrived in the kitchen and rifled through the cupboard, pushing aside mugs with people’s family photos on them, ones with names that belonged to people that couldn’t survive the turnover, and other miscellaneous relics. When her hand caught a grip of the largest one, she carefully pulled it free.

Once full, the mug burned into her hand as she carried it to Kleon’s desk, but she barely noticed the pain for adrenaline.

“There you go, boss,” she said. It hovered above his phone, and she set it down just past it, so she could swipe it into her pocket on the way back.

“I could get used to this,” he laughed. “Is this what it takes to get a little respect around here, hm? Tell Aspasia to make my next one.”

It was hard to keep the venom out of her smile, but she managed it, just as she managed to slip his phone from the shadow of the mug.

She turned away to shield the stolen item from his view, and she shoved it into her pocket, just like she had with the Lindors. Malaka, this is all because of those fucking chocolates, comes the grim realisation, but she had no time to ponder the butterfly effect.

She walked away as quickly as she could without arousing suspicion. It felt like every eye in the office was on her, but she rationalised that it was in her head. They’d be far too distracted by their work, or taken by some type of conversation. Pretending to care about each other’s evening plans was a herculean effort in itself.

“Who’s that girl,” Odessa sang as she made her way past, mocking her unfortunate headline.

“Where are you running off to?” Roxana called after her. “Or who are you running off too?”

She had to ignore them. She burst through the double doors and made for the end of the corridor, as far away from prying eyes as the building could take her.

The fire alarm’s switch was tucked away by the stairwell. She’d passed it a million times, sparing it nothing more than a glance, but now she was staring right at it, at the dot in the centre, waiting for the courage to find her.

“Here goes nothing,” she sighed, and punched the glass. The alarm blared overhead, and she ducked into the utility cupboard to hide.

Every second felt like it scraped by. Now, she was in this stupid cupboard again, trying to stay quiet for a reason that wasn’t half as fun. She covered her mouth to muffle her anxious breaths, and just before they settled, doors started to fly open and footsteps began to shuffle.

“I shouldn’t have to remind you, it’s not a drill!” she heard Odessa shout. “Everybody out!”

Kosmos cut costs everywhere, and their fire system was no different. Eventually, it would recognise that no smoke alarms were triggered, and the alarm would click off. Unethical, inconvenient, and probably illegal, but it would have to do. The longer she waited, the less time she had, but she had to be sure it was clear.

When the corridor was silent, she crept back out and hurried into the empty office, with a beeline for Kleon’s desk. Fortunately, she remembered to unplug that bastard of a camera before she planted herself in his chair.

With shaking hands, she keyed in his login, and she was through. His computer was a navigational nightmare. Icons littered his desktop from corner to corner, and he was running a pre-historic version of windows. She could find no instructions on how to wipe it, and there was no chance of isolating the files, so she had to resort to a traditional method. She clicked through the file manager to the overview, dragged the cursor over every single file, and hit delete. The green bar blazed through the data, and she turned her attention to his phone.

She didn’t have his passcode, but she thankfully didn’t need it. She held down the volume buttons and waited for the prompt to appear. She clicked through to the factory reset options, opted to erase all data, and pushed through the disclaimers. The buffering circle raced around, and the phone reset itself and left nothing behind. 

For all of her nerves, it was over so quickly. It was done.

She jogged down to the car park, where the employees gathered, tittering in delight at the prospect of their office burning down.

“Where have you been?” Odessa asked. “When you didn’t answer the fire register, we were worried.”

“To the shop,” said Kassandra. She lifted an unopened bottle of coke from her bag. It was days old, but nobody could guess that. “Did I miss anything?”

“You really pick your times, don’t you?” Aspasia interjected. “You shouldn’t be away from the office outside of your contracted break-“she led her out of earshot. “Is it done?”

“It’s all gone,” she said. “We’re clear.”

***

The workers resumed their posts with an air of disappointment, sad to return to their tasks and not a smouldering pile of unworkable ashes. Kassandra settled and opened an old Canva design she could innocently pretend to edit as it all went to shit around her.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Kleon banged his mouse against the woodwork. “Nothing’s fucking working!”

Gelon stood up and peered over his monitor, even though his screens had their backs to her.

“Is it your internet?” she asked. “Mine’s working fine.”

“What's happened to my phone?” he grumbled. “Everything's gone!”

There would be no time for a second opinion. Aspasia was one of the last back in, and she summoned the two of them on her way past.

“You and you,” she pointed between Kassandra and Kleon. “With me, please.”

“I’m busy,” he grumbled.

“No, I have something I think you’ll want to see,” she smiled archly. Recognising his own words, he grudgingly stood.

Now they were in her office for the second time that day, but the mood had shifted dramatically. Now Kleon was agitated, and Aspasia’s demeanour indicated the upper hand. Kassandra had no idea why she was there, but she optimistically braced herself for a masterclass.

“I’m sorry to announce that you have failed your Performance Improvement Plan, Kleon,” said Aspasia. “Your employment with the company ends on the stated calendar date, but this is your final day in the office. I’m putting you on leave. Gelon will take your place.”

“What?” Kleon spluttered. “You can’t do that, I’ll send the email!”

“With what files?” Aspasia leaned forward and smirked.

He seemed to go through the five stages of grief in the record time of ten seconds. Eventually he settled into an ugly frown with his teeth half-bared.

“What have you done?” he hissed.

“A bit of professional advice, for your next job,” said Aspasia, resting her chin on her fist. “You should always read the small print of your contracts.”

“What are you saying?”

“As of this afternoon, all files stored on your work devices belonged to me, including files pertaining to and created in the workplace. They are mine to destroy,” she said.

“What about the other files?” Kleon raged. “You don’t own my phone! You’ve deleted pictures of my grandkids! Or, I assume, you had Kassandra delete my grandkids.”

Aspasia ignored him and carried on. “Yes, you will be the Chief Marketing Officer, for an afternoon, but you’ve actually signed most of your employment rights away. You were so eager to get this signed off that you ignored a lot of traps. There's a lot in here about non-disclosure. It's size four and hidden tactfully, but it counts all the same.” She handed him her copy so he could go through it again.

Kleon flipped through his contract, his eyes darting over the paragraphs. From the way that his eyes rounded and his mouth fell open, she could see that he was cornered. This was genius. In his pride and greed, he’d hastily signed an NDA disguised as a promotion. In less than a day, Aspasia created a calculated and irrecoverable takedown.

“If you speak a word about what happened here, you are breaking the law, worse so without a shred of evidence,” she said. “Thugs might beat you, rob your valuables, but I know lawyers who can take your entire livelihood. If you so much as hint at this, to Karagianis, to man, woman, or beast, you won’t even be able to afford a hostel. Is that clear?”

It was impossible to recognise the woman behind this desk. It was vicious, villainous, frightening to watch, and Kassandra wasn’t even on the receiving end. Kleon’s face washed pale.

“Understood,” he muttered. “I’ll pack up my desk.”

Aspasia folds her arms. “Yes, and do it quickly. Now, fuck off.”

He left the room in silence. Aspasia stared vengefully at the door behind him, not in the slightest bit settled.

“That’s… one way to bury a crisis,” said Kassandra. “What on earth did you write in there?”

Aspasia was still troubled. She just looked through her, and then her eyes fixed themselves at the corner of her window.

“That was too close,” Aspasia said, “far too close.”

***

She had no idea how to relax that evening. The days’ shakiness left her too exhausted for the gym. With this in mind, she settled into bed with her laptop and a film, then she was too jittery to settle. She contemplated a walk down to the shop for a beer to take the edge off, then she felt tired again. She couldn’t win.

“Kassandra?” Myrrine’s voice, slightly on edge, entered her room.

“Yes?”

“Aspasia is here.”

Here? She shoved her computer aside and practically jumped out of bed, confused by the visit. But she was no more flabbergasted than Myrrine, who stayed in the hall, but her glare followed her into the living room to make it clear she wasn’t happy. She could deal with that later.

Aspasia waited at the dining room table. She still had her coat on, meaning she’d come straight from work.

“What are you doing here? Trying to give my poor mother a heart attack?” Kassandra asked. She gave her a smile to show she was joking, but Aspasia didn’t mirror it.

“I’ve come to warn you,” she was hunched over the table, far removed from the striking corporate overlord she'd seen earlier in the day. “They know it was you who pulled the fire alarm. There’s no real CCTV in the office, but there’s a camera at Reception, and the footage caught you re-entering.”

Kassandra took the seat across from her. The revelation should’ve been terrifying, but after the day’s crisis, she simply didn’t have the energy to be scared. She knotted her hands together, and she could only try to think. The microwave dinged over the counter, but Myrrine didn’t come in to collect the contents.

“Okay, let’s not panic,” said Kassandra. “If we can deal with Kleon, we can handle this. I’m sure Odessa would cover my tracks if I asked.”

“She would, but it’s too late. It reached Diona first. It moved beyond me before I could act, and it’s made the rounds internally,” Aspasia said. “Don’t go in tomorrow. You’ll be fired in the morning.”

“What?” Kassandra stood, jolted by shock. “What do you mean, beyond you? You’re the Managing Director. If anyone can protect me, you can.”

“I’m not a god. If you buy me time with your absence, I can shield you from legal action. But I can’t save your job.”

Kassandra couldn’t believe it. She felt sick. It felt like the floor was shifting underneath her, slowly tilting as the world turned itself upside-down.

“Come on, I did what you told me to.” she pleaded. “It’s only fair that you make it right. You said you would cover the aftermath.”

“I wish I could, but I can’t,” Aspasia said sympathetically. “Not without risking my neck.”

There it was, the slip-up, the truth. The relationship might’ve been salvaged if not for that betrayal, neatly delivered in five words. Kassandra propped herself up by the arms, leaning over her boss. Aspasia shut her eyes, realising what she’d said, and mourning her chance at diplomacy.

“Risking your neck?” Kassandra raised her voice, which took Aspasia by surprise. “You mean like I did? I did your fucking dirty work, covered your tracks, and you’re throwing me under the fucking bus!”

She never would’ve imagined that Aspasia would fire her, or even allow her to be fired. But she’d seen another side to her today, a side that frightened her. She didn't believe for a second that Diona was a threat, but there was always a chance that Kleon's truth would get out somehow, and the story wouldn't carry half as much weight if Kassandra was no longer there. 

“I-“ Aspasia gave a rare stutter. “I recognise your contribution, and I am grateful. You will be compensated,” she said, but it was even more infuriating that she was speaking to her like an employee.

“I don’t want your fucking compensation! You said you love me!” she argued. “Does that not matter to you at all?”

Aspasia looked wounded, but she caught herself after a moment. “I meant what I said.”

“Then how do you explain this?” Kassandra asked.

“I do love you, Kassandra, I do, but I have to put my career first,” Aspasia argued. “It’s not a choice I wanted to make, but I’ve fought too hard for it.”

“Your career,” Kassandra jeered. “Your fucking career. You could succeed anywhere, but you’re choosing that fucking promotion over me! Don’t pretend that’s not the case.”

Aspasia’s silence confirmed her assessment, but she couldn’t stay quiet forever.

“Name your price,” she eventually said, and it felt like the lowest blow of all. After all they’d been through, why did she go straight to money? Why was that the only language she seemed to understand?

“I want my time back!” Kassandra shouted. “If I’d known your true colours then, I would’ve never gone back to your flat in the first place.”

“We’ll call it 30K,” said Aspasia, not meeting her eyes.

“Are you even listening to me?”

The rising volume brought Myrrine in. She placed herself between them, gently resting her hand on Kassandra’s shoulder.

“It’s alright,” said Myrrine. Her tone hardened when she turned to the Director. “You need to leave. It sounds like you’ve done enough.”

Neither of them appreciated the intervention, Aspasia least of all, but her expression was guarded and she took the words on the chin. She acquiesced with a nod and drifted to the door, but she hesitated in the frame.

“I did what I could, Kassandra,” she said. “I’m sorry. I wish you well.”

It was over. And when she left, Kassandra was stuck in place, trying to breathe slowly, and trying not to smash the chair closest to her. She didn’t cry. She never did, but as Myrinne’s arms closed around her, she had to blink her tears away.

“People like us don’t matter to people like her, lamb. That’s how they got there, by stepping over people and sticking knives in backs,” said her mother. “Don’t take it as a loss. She loved her reputation far more than you.”

“If you say I told you so-“

Her mother didn’t need to. Her face said it all.

“You know I don’t like to.”

“Don’t you start lying too,” Kassandra sighed.

There was a lot to process. She had enough lies to grapple with, and now the unwelcome truths rolled in like punches.

Aspasia pursued their relationship.

Aspasia let her fall on her sword to save her image.

Aspasia chose not to help her.

Aspasia chose Kosmos.

Aspasia was a liar.

***

She still woke at 6:25, and initially, she still shot up as though she was running late.

She sank back into the sheets with a horrid, empty feeling in her stomach. There would be no more Kosmos. No more pranks on Gelon, no more banter with Reception, no more mid-morning chats with Barnabas. But as angry as she was, it hurt most that there would be no more Aspasia.

She couldn’t allow herself to mope or mourn. She had to spend the morning updating her CV and throwing it at every job site she could. Worst of all, she had to change her LinkedIn status to ‘Open to Work’, the digital walk of shame.

She lost track of time scrolling through job listings, sifting through shit salaries and red flags. But she knew when the work day started, because her group chat went berserk.

cumsocks investments 📈

Roxana
KASSANDRA WHY DID YOU PULL THE FIRE ALARM ASDGJDFK

Odessa
slay

Gelon
Kass, you owe me a drink and an explanation.
Where are you?
What the hell is going on?

She didn’t have the energy or the mental capacity to answer them, but thankfully she didn’t have to. She was saved by a call from an unknown number. Muscle memory moved her thumb to ‘ignore’, but then she remembered she was job-hunting, and she was in no position to be choosy. But who on earth would process her CV so quickly?

“Uh, hello?”

“What happened?” the voice belonged to Anthousa. “I saw your LinkedIn.”

“Oh,” Kassandra rubbed her eyes. Why wasn’t she surprised? “Aspasia happened.”

“What’s she done now?”

Kassandra told her everything. She told her about Kleon’s paranoia, about the desk, the alarm, and every cursed event that came to follow.

“She doesn’t lose her nerve often, but when it does, it’s ugly,” Anthousa said, once Kassandra reached her conclusion. “She tore my head off the other day, you know. I think her feelings got on top of her, and this whole fiasco spooked her.”

“Feelings,” Kassandra laughed mirthlessly. “I think she’s just a cunt.”

Anthousa hummed in agreement. “She and I are on bad terms too, but I have no reason to extend the grudge to you. How do you feel about marketing for me instead? My team is, admittedly, in need of fresh talent.”

“I-“ Kassandra stammered. “In Korinth?”

“Yes. I understand you’ll have to relocate, but the pay will make it worth your while. I own a few properties here, and I’ll give you a discount on a rental. You can send as much money to your mother as you did before, likely more.”

Korinth wasn’t far. Anthousa was another prestigious name for her C.V. She could hold her to her word about pay, and the chance to leave Athens for a fresh start was a tempting one. Still, she couldn’t forget that she was speaking to a black-belt troublemaker.

“I appreciate it, it’s a lot to think about, but why?” Kassandra asked. “The offer you’ve just given me, far more experienced people than me would tear your arm off for it.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Kassandra. First, because Aspasia has really pissed me off, and spite is the strongest motivator. Second, because you’re a talented designer, and third, because of your looks.”

“My looks?” Kassandra groaned. “What exactly do you need me for?”

Anthousa laughed heartily. “You’re not my type, but you’re plenty of others’. I think my girls would pose a little harder if they knew you were watching.”

It was far from her proudest moment, but she had to take it.

Chapter Text

‘Aspasia Alexaki Appointed as CEO of Kosmos Investments:
Kosmos Investments are pleased to announce the appointment of Aspasia Alexaki as their new Chief Executive Officer. She replaces Yiannis Karagianis, having driven a wave of investor confidence and unprecedented revenue as the Managing Director. Karagianis describes the change as ‘a new era’ for the firm, with major shareholders praising the move.’

It was a well-written article, sure to encourage all the relevant stakeholders and grace the magazines, but there was just something not quite right with it. She stared at it for minutes, trying to find the issue. The issue, she eventually realised, was that Kassandra hadn’t written it.

What a stupid thing to be caught on.

“Hm.” Aspasia dropped the sheet onto the table. “Fine, release it.”

“Thank you.” Gelon was quick to accept, but surprised. After scrutiny like that, she was surely expecting some pushback.

It was odd to see the woman in such formal circumstances. Save for a couple of occasions, she used to turn up in loose jumpers and black trousers, sometimes jeans. She was promoted to Marketing Director two months ago, and had only worn suits since. Board member or not, she was technically still middle management. One could argue she was taking her new title a little too seriously, but that wasn’t such a bad thing. She was more than capable. Without Kleon, the department was running like a machine.

Then again, a lot of things were new around here.

She inherited Karagianis’ office as well as his title. For months, she’d been mentally redecorating it, and she wasted no time in making the changes when she finally moved in.

He was an old-fashioned man indeed. His furniture was all red and vintage, right down to rugs and chesterfields. She always thought it looked more like the captain’s cabin of a Hollywood pirate ship than an office, but it wasn’t her problem anymore. She replaced it all with dark and minimalist alternatives.

It was more symbolic than practical. The only part she really used was her desk. If it weren’t for the cleaners, the rest of it would probably be coated in dust.

The only trace left of him was the cloth tied over the smoke detector, which Aspasia decided to leave. She wouldn’t touch anything related to that accursed fire alarm.

“Your new Juniors are settling in well, then?” Aspasia asked, aware she was losing her train of thought.

“We had some teething problems in the beginning, but it’s all good now.”

Gelon had the rug pulled out from underneath her. She came in on a random Wednesday to a huge promotion, but no staff to lead. Her first major campaign as the department’s leader was the rush to hire her own team. She could throw a ball in any city centre and hit five people who worked in media, so they were able to fill the positions within two weeks.

The problem was training them. Neither Kleon nor Kassandra left particularly big boots to fill, but while the staff needed to slow down and learn the processes, the business had the same demands. Such flattened capacity would be tough on anyone.

“Your resilience during staffing difficulties has been well noted,” said Aspasia. “But it’s a good thing, really, to have a clean slate.”

“Thank you,” Gelon said. “Is there anything else you need me for while I’m here?”

“No,” Aspasia decided. “Carry on as you are.”

Gelon left her chair with a polite nod, but as she began to walk away, Aspasia was pricked by curiosity.

“How is Kassandra?” she asked. “Do you still speak to her?”

The marketer grimaced, sliding her hands into her pockets.

“She’s doing well, too well, I think. She’s gotten quite full of herself to be honest. She’s financing a Lexus now, and she doesn’t shut up about the gym, but we’re still friends of course.”

“So quickly? She must be on decent money. Where’s she working?”

Gelon seemed to struggle with the question, but eventually gave up and shrugged.

“Some fancy agency outside the city.”

A very conservative answer, but Aspasia didn’t think much of it. She assumed she was working for a competitor. There was a clause in everyone’s contracts that forbade them from working for another investment firm within six months of leaving. It was immoral, but so was everything this business did.

“Do you want me to pass on your regards?”

“No,” Aspasia said quickly.

Thankfully, Gelon left without questions, and the CEO was able to reflect in peace.

Aspasia was glad she was doing well. It helped, in part, to allay some of the guilt that kept following her. Kassandra was better off, and so was she, reinforced by the room she was able to ponder in. It was a cold-hearted thing to do, but in the end, the split was beneficial to them both.

But perhaps she’d chosen the wrong type of company.

***

As time went on, her Saturday nights became much quieter. Her bed felt twice the size, but twice as cold, and she was struggling to sleep again. It was worse in winter than any other time. She turned onto her back and sighed deeply.

She had tried bringing other women to fill the space. The executive ones were either too austere or too awkward. The athletic ones were either too gentle or nauseatingly arrogant. None of them knew how to kiss her, or just how tightly to grip her waist, or the right way to touch her.

Fuck, she was thinking about her again.

She reached for her phone. She knew she shouldn’t do it. Kassandra had blocked her on all of her socials, and that used to be enough of a deterrent. Now, she cared enough to open her Instagram in an incognito tab.

The first thing she noticed was a huge increase in followers, and it quickly became apparent why. Previously, her profile was just an average page. She would post pictures of her family, of restaurants, rarely of herself. Gelon was right. She’d gotten vain.

Now her page was full of selfies, body-shots in tight gym wear, and videos of her muscles flexing against the strain of dumbbells and resistance ropes. Then, worst of all, there were the comments.

77notemilyagain77: 👀
spphc_szn: snap me in half please x
throwaway4.4.2: suddenly I am a barbell to be lifted above your head and dropped at your feet

Did these people have no shame? Desperate to escape this depravity, Aspasia clicked on her story. She was in the passenger seat of a car, secretly filming and giggling as a woman sang behind the steering wheel.

Her name was Kleio Vasileiou. She was one of Anthousa’s models, and through the windows passed the unmistakeable seaside streets of Korinth.

Some fancy agency outside the city.

Aspasia threw her phone into the sheets. Of course she had legions of women after her, and of course she’d gone to work for Anthousa. The two people she’d most recently burned had united, and they were very probably laughing at her. She should’ve been angry. She wanted to be angry, but the jealousy she found was soft and remorseful.

Kassandra was thriving, and she wasn’t around to see it in person. Aspasia had spent ages trying to reassure herself that their break-up was the logical thing to do. She wasn’t ready to face the idea that she wasn’t good enough for her in the first place. Kassandra deserved to be happy, and Aspasia knew she deserved her regrets.

***

If it weren’t for her wistful doomscrolling, she probably wouldn’t have been quite so volatile the next week, but it might’ve been the push she needed.

More and more often throughout her leadership, the reports she received would be positive, and minuses were rare. Karagianis would be happy to let a handful of assets slide, but Aspasia had no such patience. The company would fall stagnant again if people got lazy.

She called a meeting of the failing Asset Managers in the boardroom. She paced back and forth, with a backdrop of negative percentages projected onto the wall.

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing.” she said. “Months upon months of complacency. Yes, our overall revenue is up, but think of how much higher it could’ve been if this portfolio was managed properly!”

They looked at her with a mixture of faces. Some were fearful, some carefully blank, some disdainful. She noted each and every one.

“Aspasia, you know there’ve been challenges this quarter,” said one.

“I don’t accept that reasoning. Other managers have faced the same problems, but they’re not in the red,” she said. “If you’ve fucked something up, come and tell me, we’ll see what we can do. What you don’t do, is wait for me to find out, and I always will. Numbers tell no lies.”

“These targets you’ve set us are far too high!” another complained.

“That is a discussion we should have had weeks, months ago!” Aspasia raised her voice. “These targets were forecasted for a reason, and should be more than achievable, but if you lack the drive to take a challenge, perhaps you’re with the wrong fucking company, malakes!”

The outburst came as a shock to everyone, even herself, but she wouldn’t back down. It was hard to feel sorry for these men. They were from well-off families and prestigious universities, and still spent their weekends drinking overpriced wine, joking about the rough parts of the inner city, and sneering at people whose accents were too thick.

“By the end of the day, from each of you, I either want a revised strategy paper, or a fucking resignation,” she said. “Is that clear?”

There was only one expression among them now, bewilderment. She felt no need to close the meeting, knowing her swift exit from the room would send the same message.

The receptionists kept their heads down as she walked past. They probably heard every word. No doubt the entire office would know about her tirade by lunch time, but she was finding it harder and harder to care with every passing month.

When the lift finally closed to give her silence, it took everything she had not to scream.

***

She never smoked before. Though in Athens, cigarettes were as common as blades of grass, it was always drilled into her head that it was bad for the skin and caused premature aging. But so did drinking, so did stress, so did insomnia, and she decided eventually that she couldn’t win. She walked through to the balcony of her office and lit up her fifth of the day. She would rather deal with a raging nicotine headache than a single phone call from downstairs.

What am I doing? The question forced itself to the front of her mind. She released a smoke-laden sigh.

When she brought her work home, Perikles would always tell her to slow down. It was well-intentioned, but she used to consider it a nuisance. Even when she lost him to his own ill-health and stress, she ignored the warning, and absent his gentle reminders, she seemed to be heading the same way.

Anthousa was always forthcoming with advice, but it always ended with an encouragement to step away from the big leagues. She wanted her to join her in Korinth, not just as a valuable string to her bow, but as a friend.

Kassandra could never grasp why she let this job affect her so much, when she had the resources to take on something smaller and less stressful. It had only gotten worse when she wasn’t there to take the edge off her aggravation.

At these times, she reasoned that none of them quite understood her. But it seemed they understood things too well, and she was the one with clouded vision. They all cared about her in their own way, and she’d disappointed every single one of them.

And it wasn’t worth it, not even close.

A year had passed since her promotion. She worked herself to the bone and brought the company to the steps of the Fortune 500. She had enough money to retire several times over, but the agitation she felt was far worse than when she first walked through the company’s revolving doors. 

On paper, everything she set out to achieve was done. She expected, at the very least, to be satisfied by now.

At least from here, there was a beautiful view of the city. She turned her attention to the horizon, west over Salamina, knowing that somewhere in the distance was the place she could find answers. There was only one place left to go. She needed to revisit old connections, and she needed a new challenge.

She pulled her phone from her pocket. Her list of contacts was increasingly bare, but she keyed in the number she'd known by heart for years. She left no room for greetings, apologies, or explanations. There would be time for everything soon. 

“Do you still need a new Director?” 

Chapter Text

Working for Anthousa was a completely different game. 

The first thing that struck Kassandra was just how small the office was. While her last employer spanned several floors, The Akrokorinth Collective barely filled a single, albeit large room. They only had one toilet, the kitchen couldn’t fit more than two people at once, and she could walk from one end of the place to the other in ten seconds. Everything was open plan, with no private offices. The only indication that Anthousa’s desk belonged to royalty was the slight extra padding on the chair. 

Then there was the atmosphere. In a modelling agency, she expected the gossip to be rife, but somehow, everyone managed to be nice to each other. It was a relaxed environment, but it took weeks for Kassandra to settle. It took a while to adjust to the quiet. She constantly expected to hear shouting arise from somewhere, but she never even heard a dispute. If there was ever a disciplinary issue, it would be dealt with privately and respectfully. 

Anthousa was rarely in the office. But when she was, she didn’t really care what time Kassandra came in, when she went home, or what she was wearing. On most mornings, she turned up in hoodies and track pants, but Anthousa didn’t mind as long as they were branded. A strange mindset, but there were plenty of strange things around here. 

The business ethos was to grow tall, not wide. They had only six models, but they invested more of their resources into their training and growth, and in return, they charged the earth to book them. Scouts were completely pointless. They were inundated with enquiries to join, but they wouldn’t even glance at someone whose name rang no bells. This company was a destination, not a steppingstone. 

The profit margins were enormous, even higher because they were able to cut costs on staffing. They only needed two accountants, a pair of operations managers, an administrator, and her new manager Alkibiades. 

He was the Marketing Manager, Head of Client Services, and IT all rolled into one. At any other company, trusting the same person to handle all three of those roles would be trusting a fox to guard the henhouse, but they must have been aware, because the man was a walking red flag. 

She knew by the way they were introduced. 

“Go easy on her, Alkibiades,” Anthousa said. “She’s had more than her fair share of workplace harassment.”  

“Hm, well,” Alkibiades looked her up and down. He opened his mouth and shut it again. “No, I can’t say that. I musn’t victim-blame.” 

If that didn’t set the tone, what would? Kassandra laughed, despite the problematic jest. 

“I’m no victim, don’t worry.” 

“Perfect! So what’s the problem here?” he asked.

He might’ve been the most chaotic man she’d ever met, but he was a genius. At first, she wondered how he managed to juggle three jobs and still find the time to take two-hour lunches, and he then spent most of the work day chatting to people. As it happened, he’d managed to automate half of his tasks with some clever coding and email templates. 

Anthousa told her that the marketing team needed new talent, but she was surplus to requirements. She’d clearly been brought here for an ulterior reason, but thankfully she didn’t have to wonder for long. 

She had no private office to beckon her into, so they had to stage their slightly ominous 1-to-1s in the tiny little conference room. 

“You hate your job, don’t you?” Anthousa asked out of nowhere.

Kassandra was stunned. “I like it here,” she said, and it was the truth. 

“You like this company, yes. I recognise that and appreciate it,” said Anthousa. “But you hate marketing. You practically told me so when we first met.” 

“I don’t think anybody truly likes it. I don’t think I have to love my job to be good at it, just like I don’t think the accountants live and breathe for invoices.”  

Anthousa neglected the chair, choosing instead to lean back against the wall and radiator. 

“How do you feel about doing something else?” she asked. 

“You want me to model?” Kassandra guessed. 

She couldn’t help but take offense when Anthousa laughed. 

“No. You’re gorgeous, but I’ve seen the way you walk. Only if Adidas or Nike came knocking, and even then, I wouldn’t send an amateur.” She folded her arms once her amusement settled. “You’d need extensive training, but I suppose…” she trailed off into her thoughts, then snapped her fingers as if to shake herself out of it. “No. That’s not what I’m asking.” 

“What is it then?” Kassandra leaned onto the back legs of her chair and rested her hands on top of her head. 

“When myself and A- when I first joined this company as a model, my boss was closer to a pimp than an agent. He would send us out to shoots by ourselves, with no concern for our safety, only his bottom line.” She shied away from Aspasia’s name, but it made a lot of sense. Neither her or Anthousa could’ve become such spitfires overnight. The difference was that Anthousa had settled down. “When I took over this company, I vowed I’d never be like that. It’s not a service that agencies typically offer, certainly not as a standard, but you know how much we value our girls.” 

“You want me to be their guard,” Kassandra realised. 

She remembered Anthousa’s words during their phone call. 

I think my girls would pose a little harder if you were watching.

It always struck her as odd, since she was hardly watching them from behind a desk. It fell into place now. This had been her plan all along. 

“We already pay a chaperone, but I think you’d be perfect. Your physique is wasted behind a desk. You’re a woman, so they’d feel more at ease with you, and you know just how ugly the corporate world can be.”

Kassandra laughed gruffly. “You want me to protect them from people like Aspasia?” 

Anthousa guffawed, then quickly pulled herself back to composure. “More like Alkibiades, to be honest.” 

“I don’t know, Anthousa. I don’t have any formal training in security,” she said. 

“We vet our clients intensely. You’re not there to fight anyone, just make sure no boundaries are being crossed.”  

Kassandra paused. “How much?” 

***

To say she was thrown in the deep end was an understatement. 

When she pulled up outside the beachside villa to collect her precious cargo, the woman who emerged just happened to be Kleio fucking Vasileiou. A woman even Kassandra had known about, and the company’s highest earner. 

“You’re not Ilias,” Kleio said with a growing smile as she fastened her seatbelt. 

“My name’s Kassandra.” 

“I’m Kleio,” she said, like she needed any introduction. “Can I put the radio on?” 

“Sure.” 

“Ilias never let us put the radio on,” she said giddily, and she hit the button.

Past tense, Kassandra noted. It was funny, the way she spoke about her colleague as if he wasn’t there anymore, purely out of wishful thinking. 

As she drove to the set, she could see Kleio staring in the corner of her eye. At first, Kassandra assumed she was sizing her up to see how much she could get away with, but as the focus seemed to hone on her arms as she turned the steering wheel, it was apparently another thing entirely. 

As a joke, she kept a yellow and a red card in her desk drawer to show to Alkibiades when he flirted. She would to have to order another pair for her glove compartment, it seemed. 

“What’s that wry smile for?” Kleio asked teasingly. 

“I think I’m cursed,” said Kassandra. 

“Really?” Kleio leaned against the window. “I’d say you’re quite blessed.”

At this point, she’d show the yellow. 

She parked up in the city centre, blissfully ignorant. When she was given the brief, she foolishly switched off and wondered what to make herself for dinner. She knew it was for a large e-commerce site, and she’d spent ages browsing them before. Probably just high-waisted jeans and blouses, right?

No, far from it. When the model emerged in a teal set of lingerie, she didn’t know where to look. Almost out of left field, she wondered if Aspasia had to do anything like this, and the switched visual only made it worse. 

The crew behind the camera didn’t even blink. They were seasoned professionals, and if stereotypes were anything to go by, they probably weren’t interested in women at all. And yet, when the back clasp of Kleio’s suspenders came loose, it fell to the chaperone to fix it. 

These things were notoriously tricky to fasten. Even centimetres away from her face, Kassandra was having trouble. She struggled through the lace, muttering a million curses under her breath. She wasn’t completely sure what her remit included, but this probably wasn’t part of it. 

“These things are designed to be taken off,” she huffed. 

“Is that the voice of experience?” asked Kleio.

“That’s a straight red,” Kassandra joked to herself.

“Sorry?” Kleio turned around, thankfully having misheard her. 

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. The clasp finally slotted into place. 

“Thank you kindly,” said Kleio. 

Kassandra winked at her, but the response felt automatic. 

***

She had no idea what the rising star told the other girls, because before long, they were all asking to work with her, and the no-nonsense methods of Ilias were out of favour.  

It wasn’t so bad. In essence, she was paid a small fortune to twiddle her thumbs and fold her arms. She was nice to the girls, and she did what they asked, so long as it was reasonable. 

Before long, she struck up friendships with them. Although these girls were revered for a living, and their names were carved into the stars, they were surprisingly down to earth. 

Hell, she even managed to catch some of their confidence. When she shared her Instagram handle with them, they were absolutely outraged to find a modest profile with a lack of racy photos.

“That’s like owning a Ferrari only to keep it in the garage,” Erinna told her. 

“If you don’t beat your own drum, nobody else will beat it for you,” said Damalis.

“I bet you both would, given half the chance,” said Kleio. They both squealed laughing and shoved her, and Kassandra could only shake her head in mock-disapproval. 

They showed her how to position the camera for the best focus and how to stand. It started as a matter of peer pressure, and she did it only to humour them. But external validation never hurt anyone. When the numbers started climbing, she started posting of her own accord.

Her follower count quickly made its way through the thousands. This must’ve been how Aspasia felt, watching euro signs enter her bank account, she thought, then she quickly told her brain to shut up about her. 

A late afternoon found them at the beach, gathered around a poorly constructed fire and a few bottles of cheap wine. They were playing 90’s house tunes from a shoddy Bluetooth speaker.  

Her phone pinged, and she flipped it around to check the message. She dusted the sand from around its side, worried about clogging it. 

Gelon
Hey, Aspacaesar called a meeting this afternoon to say she’s leaving
She’s slashed her notice period because she found her own replacement
Some dickhead from Wall Street

Kassandra
ASPACAESAR 💀

Gelon
Odessa and Roxana are celebrating like mad
KASS CAN I TELL THEM, IT’S SAFE NOW
P L E A S E this secret has been tearing me apart

Kassandra
Eh why not

Gelon 
LEGEND!!

Kassandra didn’t allow her messages to reflect her mood. It was easy to mask it in black and white, but the news irritated her. It wasn’t normal for CEOs to leave so quickly. She’d backstabbed her for no good reason.

“What’s the matter with you?” Kleio leaned into her, nudging her with her shoulder. 

“Nothing,” she said. She took another swig, straight from the bottle. Damalis took it from her hand to take her own turn. 

“It’s far too nice an evening to be troubled,” said Erinna.  

The wind was calm, the sea was clear, and the sand was warm beneath her. She was surrounded by models. Why was she still bothered about that absolute reprobate? Perhaps it was normal to be troubled like this, but even so, it didn’t make her feel any better.

After only a minute her phone started rumbling again, likely with messages of outrage from the two receptionists. She chose to ignore them, like an action hero turning their back on an explosion. She probably showed the same kind of frown that they did. 

“What is it?” Damalis pressed her.

“Nothing worthwhile,” she said. “News from home about my ex.” 

“And who was stupid enough to break your heart, Kassandra?” asked Kleio.

Kassandra said her name, and for a moment, nobody spoke. The way their faces sank with shock said enough. 

***

These days, Kassandra only marketed on a part-time basis, and even then, she didn’t do much. Today, Anthousa had a new headshot to post to the socials, and Alkibiades was tasked with photoshopping it. Kassandra offered to do it, but he refused, so she stood over his shoulder watching him work. 

She liked Alkibiades. He was a lot of things, bold and lecherous being two of them. Thankfully, he was also very funny, and unhinged in a way that Gelon never could be.

He battered the picture with the warp tool. He distorted Anthousa’s face beyond recognition. Her eyes were made as round as saucers. Her cheeks had been pushed in to make her angular and gaunt, and her lips had been flattened into a thin line. The image became more horrific with every move. She looked like a fucked-up insect, which he disturbingly named Ant-housa. 

“I fucking dare you to post it,” Kassandra laughed. “No caption or anything.”

“I’m going to put it in my email signature and see how long it takes her to notice.”

He wouldn’t get the chance. Anthousa walked past, looked once, looked again, then stopped. Alkibiades made no effort to hide it or minimise the tab. 

“What have you done now?” she asked. She wasn’t annoyed with him, just disappointed. This mustn’t have been the first time. 

“Oh, you know me. I just wanted to destroy something beautiful,” Alkibiades purred.  

“Un-destroy it, please,” she said. “Kassandra, can I borrow you?” 

It was courteous to ask. It’s not like she had better things to do. 

She followed her into the tiny conference room, once again. Anthousa took a seat. Her eyes were downcast, and the tightness of her shoulders signalled something was up. Kassandra took the opposite chair in tentative silence. 

“You know I run the operations here, but I’m often out of the office,” Anthousa started. “The business is doing well, but it can never reach its full potential while I’m busy with my modelling, but I’m not quite ready to let it go. The business needs a second Director." 

Kassandra nearly jumped out of her seat. If the last meeting in here was anything to go by, that didn’t bode well at all. 

“Anthousa, I’m very flattered that you trust me, but I’m really bad with numbers,” she blurted. 

This time, the supermodel didn’t laugh. 

“No, no,” she waved her hand. “Not you.”

“Who, then?” 

Anthousa’s apologetic look tipped her off. There was a reason she’d been summoned in here, away from listening ears, and well in advance of this mystery director’s arrival. Gelon’s message seemed more of a warning now. 

It was all a little too familiar. All of the sweetness she’d found here was quickly turning sour. 

“Not Aspasia,” she said. There was no immediate denial. “Anthousa, tell me that it’s not Aspasia!”

“Kassandra, listen-“

“She insulted you and this company! She sold me down the river, and you’re going to fucking roll out the red carpet?” Kassandra fumed. “Is this why you brought me here? To dangle me in front of her and offer me up like a sacrificial fucking lamb?” 

“You weren’t mentioned once,” Anthousa insisted.

Perhaps not. But she refused to believe that her presence here had nothing to do with it. This was clearly some kind of gambit. These fucking directors were all the same. Anthousa’s deception was clever and layered, but for her own sanity, she had to give her the benefit of the doubt. 

“Then there’s two possibilities. The first is that she knows I’m here, and she’s too audacious to care. The second is that she’s clueless, and I’m nothing but a nasty surprise. How do I know she won’t just fire me on sight?” Kassandra asked.

“I think…” Anthousa tilted her head. “I’m quite sure it’s the former. It’s still my company, and I would never allow such bias.” 

“Your tinpot, according to her.” 

“She’ll be a different person once she’s here. I can guarantee it. I wasn’t around to see your office, but I’d bet there was a huge difference in her manner when she first arrived compared to when you last saw her. That place has rotted her.”

She had a point. The first day she met Aspasia, she was a little curt, slightly ill-mannered, but not overly hostile. After a few months, whenever she left her office, the departments turned into the trenches, and everyone kept their head down for fear of losing it. 

“She’s under no real pressure here, and neither are you. She will work purely on the financial side. After what she did, you can tell her to fuck off, and I’ll make sure there are no consequences. It’ll piss her off to high heaven, I promise you,” said Anthousa.

That was a prospect she could get behind. She considered Aspasia’s jealousy, the way she hit the roof over something as simple as a magazine cover. If she saw the way these girls spoke to her, she’d probably be seething. 

She remembered the old saying, that sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind. In the same way, sometimes you had to be kind to get the most out of cruelty. 

***

On the big day, she was fortunate to come in late from a shoot. All she really had to do today was hand over an incident report, which like most days, only detailed the lack thereof. She was able to skip most of the introductions, the fawning, and the office tour by coming in at 2PM. The only worry at these times was finding a parking space, so she dumped it in a visitor spot and hoped nobody would notice. 

Just outside the doors was that stupid Aston Martin. She considered squatting next to it to take a selfie, knowing it would set the old group chat on fire. But she didn’t want the questions, and she didn’t want to turn around and see Aspasia in the upstairs window, staring down at her like a comic book villain.

Her smile at the idea didn’t last, and she steeled herself as she walked up the stairs. Thankfully, she didn’t have to be here for long, and she didn’t want to let Aspasia’s presence unsettle her. After all, she was here first.

Their eyes met across the room. Aspasia held her stare for a moment too long, but gave nothing else away. She turned back to her monitor, and Kassandra walked over to her so-called manager. 

“Where’s Anthousa?” she asked Alkibiades, nodding towards her empty desk. 

“In Athens with Dior,” he said. “We’re all to report to Aspasia in her absence.” 

A heads-up would’ve been nice. Why go to the effort of warning her, just to throw her to Aspasia's feet like this?

“But if Anthousa’s not here, who’s training her?” 

“To her, this is light work,” he said. “And I think she’s had enough late-night Zoom calls with Anthousa that she already knows the business inside out. What I wouldn’t give, for such a meeting. It would have a very different focus area, I’ll tell you that.” 

“Vile.” She playfully smacked him with her clipboard before she walked over to her nemesis. 

She approached with exaggerated nonchalance. 

“Hello, Kassandra,” said the traitor. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said. 

Aspasia wore a satin blouse, tucked into a high-waisted navy pencil skirt. Her skin was shining and clear. She looked fantastic, annoyingly so. Kassandra’s black tee and fitted cargo pants were tailored to her strengths, but she felt strangely underdressed for this reunion. That apparently didn’t matter, because Aspasia also had to force her eyes upwards. 

“I was surprised to hear you’re a chaperone now,” said Aspasia. 

“Someone has to do it. You know,” Kassandra shrugged. “Some of these businesspeople are all hands and no scruples.”

Aspasia didn’t miss the pointedness, but she smiled, as though she’d just said something endearing. 

“Bless you, Kassandra,” she took a step closer so she could whisper, “you make it sound so one-sided.”

An unwanted blush found its way to her cheeks. She hoped to find Aspasia repentant, hanging her head in shame, and she knew then that she’d expected too much.  It was a pity she couldn’t whack her like she’d whacked Alkibiades. At least the man was joking when he’d act like this. Aspasia really meant it. 

“Nothing to report,” Kassandra caught herself, and dropped the clipboard onto the desk a little too hard. 

“Look, can we talk?” Aspasia asked. 

“Let me guess, you want me to wait behind until no one else is here? The answer is no.” 

“That’s not what I was suggesting. Just how long do you plan to make this awkward for?” 

Kassandra told herself she’d never believe another word this woman said. “If you want to talk to me, do it by the book and in normal working hours.” 

It was inevitably a personal matter, and she couldn’t argue further without being overheard. But hilariously, when she arrived back at her desk, a meeting invite popped up in her notifications centre. 

‘Athens Review
3:00-3:30PM 
Location: Conference Room
Organiser: [email protected]
RSVP:’

Kassandra cracked up behind her hand. “Fucking…review…” 

It was so emotionally out of touch, so typically Aspasia, that she had to accept, just to see what the idiot had to say. She imagined a slideshow with pie charts of who gave the most head, records of who slept the longest, spreadsheets detailing who spent the most on parking tickets. Her rational side knew it was named as such to not look amiss in the company calendar, but she still couldn’t put it past the woman to express her emotions via PowerPoint presentation.

So at 3:30, she waited in the meeting room, slouching in the chair, hands stuffed into her pockets.

“I made a mistake,” said Aspasia, not a second after she entered. “I should’ve done more to protect you, but I chose not to, and I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you deserve an explanation, but I can’t offer you logic when I acted out of emotion. I was frightened,” she said. 

It was all so obvious. It would take more than a basic admission to smooth things over, if that could ever happen at all.

“Well, yeah,” said Kassandra. “Anybody could see that company was a shitheap. I don’t know why you couldn’t.” 

“I thought I was attached to the company, but my heart was in the wrong place. It wasn’t the same when you left. I made several bad calls, each more unnecessary than the last,” Aspasia admitted.

“I didn’t leave, I was forced out. Why are you really here?” 

Aspasia was hesitant to answer, but eventually straightened herself. “A fresh start. I want to share the same glory with a smaller company. A better challenge, with better people.”

“Pompous as ever,” Kassandra sighed. She unscrewed her water to fidget. 

“I know I can’t make it up to you, but surely I can make a start,” Aspasia said. Kassandra took a drink and  raised an eyebrow over the bottom of her bottle. “Let me take you out to dinner.” 

Kassandra nearly sprayed the table. She covered her mouth and swallowed the liquid carefully.  

“Unbelievable,” she finally laughed. “Fucking dinner? Did you think you could just turn up here, apologise, bat your eyelashes and take me back?” 

Aspasia’s hesitance was damning. Her lips were pursed, her brows were tight, and she was completely still. Guilty as charged. 

“No,” she eventually said, too firmly. “You mistake me. It was an offer of good will.” 

“Sure.”

“I don’t expect, or want you to take me back. All I ask is that we be civil.” 

On that front, there was unfortunately very little choice. For several hours a week, they were stuck in the same four walls. Anthousa would tolerate belligerence for a while, but certainly not in front of other members of staff, and the office now seemed claustrophobically small. 

Kassandra conceded. “We will be civil, and nothing else.”

Chapter Text

There was no mountain to climb with Anthousa’s forgiveness. Aspasia joining the business was a huge concession in itself, and it was much easier to apologise for a blistering phone call than a full-blown betrayal.

Though the office was perfectly adequate, Anthousa preferred to discuss business in a café downtown, where the baristas knew her and she was unlikely to draw any unwelcome attention. They went over the year’s earnings and discussed ways to move forward.

The conversation came to marketing strategy, to resources, and then inevitably to Kassandra, and it was hard to keep it professional from there. Aspasia recounted the tale of her blundering reintroduction while Anthousa listened intently. It would have been comforting, maybe, if the woman had just laughed at her, but she only looked defeated.

“I don’t understand how you can be so intelligent and so clueless,” said Anthousa. “You have difficult discussions every week, and inspiring confidence is part of your job. Just what part of that interaction did you think would go down well?”

It was a fair point. Aspasia knew how to twist people’s arms and convince them to part with their money, but the emotional side of things was far beyond her skill set. She was used to operating behind people’s backs, never being sorry, never to an extent like this.

“Misunderstandings can be explained. Oversights can be apologised for. But to be frank, I’ve never fucked up this badly,” Aspasia answered. “I have no idea what to tell her. There’s nothing in the world I can say to justify what I did, not a single good thing about that company I can point to.”

“In that case, you need to tell her why you did it.”

The ‘why’ was something she could barely admit to herself. It wouldn’t come out over brunch with Anthousa, and telling Kassandra was an even bigger hurdle.

In the mean time, she had a ‘why’ question of her own.

“Why did you bring her here?”

“Many reasons,” said Anthousa, setting down her cup with a loud clink. “She’s a utility hire, able to support both Alkibiades and the girls where required. Not the most hard-working, but she’s charismatic, and good at doing things quickly when asked.”

“This I already know.”

Anthousa raised her finger. “If you would let me finish. I saw straight away how that girl affects your judgement. You were never interested in romance, then suddenly one day, you turn up at my door with a woman from your company, against every sensible course of action. Then you flip your lid over a tabloid cover for no good reason. Regardless of how it ended, I knew that Kassandra meant a lot to you, and if I brought her to Korinth, it was only a matter of time before you followed.”

You sly bastard, Aspasia thought, though she knew she had no right. Her friend had been playing the long game. Kassandra’s inflated salary and discounted rental was an investment, and she would see huge returns through Aspasia’s contribution to the business.

“Before you think me an evil puppet-master, you must know one thing,” Anthousa went on. “We’ve been close for what, almost two decades? You’re not a former colleague, a friend, or a business partner at this point. You’re a sister to me. A stubborn, bull-headed little sister with the emotional intelligence of a blobfish. But I love you, and I want to see you happy.”

And she would only take that kind of ribbing from two people, Anthousa being one of them.

“I appreciate your line of thinking, and I share your thoughts. There’s just the small matter of her hating me.”

“At this moment, I’d be shocked if she trusted either of us,” said Anthousa, “but she needs time. You’re off to a bad start, and it’s not easy, but you need to be patient. No lectures, no lechery, and no more fucking meeting invites. Show her that you’ve changed and she will approach you when she’s ready to talk.”

For Aspasia to be patient was no small feat. It went against just about every bone in her body, every instinct she honed over the years. But she would do it for Kassandra.

***

Some people were born to give the silent treatment. They were strong-willed, and could withhold their words for weeks, months, and even years. Aspasia was a fine example, but Kassandra wasn’t one of them. She could hate her, but could never ignore her.

Kassandra was only in once or twice a week and their desks were on opposite ends of the room, but she would catch the part-timer looking at her roughly once an hour. Her eyes would quickly dart away upon discovery, but they always came back.

When they both found themselves in the tiny kitchen, it was silent, but Kassandra would purposefully shuffle, doing everything she could to get in Aspasia’s way and stay there. She was well aware of her presence, even glancing over to gauge a reaction, desperate for her to snap, but Aspasia only ever smiled in return.

She upped her antics one afternoon by parking in Aspasia’s space. Aspasia went over to Anthousa’s desk to report the details of a booking call when the topic came up.

“Kassandra, that space is reserved for senior management,” said Anthousa, pointing at the mounted CCTV screen with her pen. She must have noticed it hours ago, but waited for Aspasia before broaching the subject.

“Is it?” Kassandra lifted her head with a shrug. “I had no idea. Sorry.” It was a blatant lie. The space had ‘RESERVED’ painted on the floor in bold white letters, and she’d been here long enough to notice.

“Do you need your space cleared?” Anthousa turned to Aspasia. Kassandra’s ears pricked up.

“No,” Aspasia said. “It’s only a parking space. Ten extra steps will do me no harm.”

“You’re sure?” Anthousa asked, but she gave her a knowing look.

“Leave it.”

Kassandra sank back against the curve of her chair, blinking in poorly hidden confusion and disappointment.

On one occasion, the joker arrived early in the morning, while Aspasia was still outside, pulling in the last drags of her cigarette before four long hours of client calls and cost negotiations. At first, Kassandra only spared her a short look. But she did a double-take and stopped.

“You don’t smoke,” she said.

Aspasia tsked. “I suggest you trust your eyes before your memories, Kassandra.”

“Oh,” Kassandra laughed, resting her hands on her hips. “But you’ve given me so many. They follow me home, they follow me to work, and when the toilet paper needs replacing, they follow me into the utility cupboard too.”

“Not those ones.”

“Come on! Don’t tell me you never think about it.”

Every day. In the car on the way to work, in the quiet moments of meetings, and not least in the evenings. They kept her up at night, in the best and worst of ways.

“Not as much as you, it seems.” Aspasia flicked the ash to the floor with a wry smile.
“Liar.”

Their eyes caught and a spark passed between them. For a few seconds they said nothing, but the moment wasn’t meant to last.

“Don’t smoke too many of those.” Kassandra pointed at the cigarette. “You’ll become Greece’s answer to Selma from The Simpsons. I can already picture it.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kassandra began to mimic her as she carried on to the entrance. “I’m Aspasia and I was never a child. I was born fully grown like Athena, with a face like thunder and a fucking audit report in my hand.”

It would have been easy to hit back that she was born without a brain. The retort was practically locked and loaded on her tongue, but in the interest of peace and diplomacy, she held it there.

Would it deter Kassandra from her wind-ups? Absolutely not. But she would rather she take her retribution through small digs than great blows.

***

Thankfully, her first encounter with the ‘Big Three’ models came in the form of good news, or so she thought.

There were only six chairs in the conference room. Anthousa was already waiting. Kleio, Erinna and Damalis took one each, and Kassandra and Alkibiades took the remainder. So when Aspasia made her entrance, she was forced to stand.

The girls squinted at the sight of her, either not recognising her, or simply not wanting to.

Anthousa spoke first.

“I’d hope she needs no introduction, but this is Aspasia. She has a proud history with the company, and she has returned to us as our new Commercial Director. She already has an exciting announcement to share.”

The models didn’t want to know. The way their attention shot to Kassandra said it all. All she gave them in return was a look down and a quick bounce of her eyebrows. When they turned back to Aspasia, they were stricken with dread, as if she were about to announce a team-building trip to Antarctica to club seal pups.

“Prada are launching a new line themed around classical fashion,” said Aspasia. “They called in search of the three best models in Greece, and so I made the booking. The Operations team are clearing your schedules. You are headed overseas.” It was a huge opportunity. They practically dominated Greece and Athens, their faces plastered all over Ermou Street, but this had the potential to take them to international levels. But it couldn’t lift their spirits.

“Please don’t say Paris,” said Kleio.

“I don’t want to go to New York,” said Erinna.

“Anywhere but London,” said Damalis.

What kind of spoilt behaviour was this? If this were Kosmos, she’d already be yelling. She wanted to remind them that she was a businesswoman, not a travel agent, but she was forced to keep her cool. They were assets, and they needed to be kept happy.

“Milan,” she said, and they seemed to settle.

Kassandra raised her hand, completely unnecessarily given the previous interjections, but Aspasia had to humour it.

“Yes?”

“Who’s driving the minibus?” Kassandra asked. “I’m not going if it’s you.”

The dig earned a laugh from Anthousa, but it only confused the others.

“We would make excellent time that way, but we’re going by plane,” said Anthousa.

“And you can make your own way to the airport,” Aspasia bluntly added.

“I will be booked elsewhere for the first day, and then the next will be spent travelling. I will make it in time for the runway,” said Anthousa. “But here lies the joy of two Directors. Aspasia will oversee things in my absence, and you will follow her directions as if they come from me. Are we all clear?” She said it to everybody, but it was most pointed at the chaperone.

They each showed their understanding with a nod, but the lack of affirmation was unsettling.

***

The first day was meant to be straightforward. They landed in the late afternoon, so there was nothing to do but ride the taxi and check in to the hotel. Korinth’s airport was tiny, only fit for domestic purposes, so they all had to make the gruelling trip via Athens. Athens Airport was only marginally better. It could take them where they needed, but it was small, overcrowded with tourists with very few places to sit down. Two hours there sapped a day’s worth of energy.

Checking in to the hotel was quick and easy, and the bed was a welcome reprieve from an exhausting day of travel. Aspasia was fast asleep when her phone started rumbling against the bedside table.

She stirred and nearly blinded herself with her screen, which bore the twist of Ilias’ name under the time of 1AM. They left him at home, deeming two guards surplus to requirements, but the man was clearly taking an interest.

“Hello?” she answered, trying to keep her voice clear and free of croakiness.

“Hi, Aspasia, um, sorry to bother you at this time but uhh...”

“No, no, I’m sure it’s important,” she said, forcing calmness into her tone. “Go on.”

“So, I happen to have Kleio on Snapchat, it was a failed fling a while ago, and, basically, um…”

“Yes?” She asked to hurry him along.

“I checked the maps and…well, they’ve gone to a nightclub.”

This had to be a joke. They just had to choose a business trip for their night of debauchery. They had to choose the one night Aspasia was tired enough to go straight to sleep too. How did they even have the energy for this?

“Have you called Kassandra?” This was surely a chaperone’s job. But Ilias was audibly nervous, and part of her knew he wouldn’t have called her if this had worked, much less at this hour. Exasperation tinged with dread crept in.

“That’s the thing, see,” he said. “She’s out with them.”

Of course she was. And Aspasia would have to go out and rein them back in, like the harbinger of gloom they probably thought her to be.

“Text me the address,” she said, then ended the call.

She threw the duvet aside and hurried back into her day clothes, cursing every step of the way.

***

She was slightly relieved to see a row of pride flags outside, confirming that they’d chosen a gay bar. Perhaps this wouldn’t be such an ordeal.

For once in her life, she’d been overly optimistic.

The club was an assault on all five of her senses. The dim, seedy lighting was speared by flashing spotlights. The music was far too loud. She had to walk across the sticky floor, nipped by passing shoulders and rogue elbows. The smell of alcohol and cheap fragrance was so strong that she could taste it.

The crowd moved like turbulent waves, stopping to cheer when ‘Wannabe’ by the Spice Girls started to play. She wondered how on earth she was going to find them, but luckily, they were hard to miss.

A circle formed around Kassandra and Alkibiades, who shimmied back and forth in time with the chorus. Aspasia shoved her way through the moving bodies until she reached them. When they saw her, she expected them to look like deer caught in headlights, but they chose instead to laugh like a pack of hyenas.

Alkibiades pawed at her arm, encouraging her to join the dance, but she had to yank it free. Kassandra, it seemed, had every intention of playing to her audience. She carried on dancing, throwing looks at Aspasia over her shoulder, much to the delight of the models.

“If you want my future, forget my past,”

“Kassandra,” said Aspasia, with rehearsed patience.

“If you wanna get with me, better make it fast,” she carried on.

“Kassandra!”

“Now don’t go wasting my precious time. Get your act together, we could be just fine,”

“KASSANDRA!” Aspasia eventually shouted.

“Scatter,” Alkibiades nudged the girls away, seizing the distraction. “Scatter!”

They fizzled into the bouncing crowd, leaving the star-crossed lovers behind.

Infuriatingly, Kassandra was still laughing. Aspasia kept her expression carefully level, which only made her laugh harder. This situation was indeed ridiculous.

“What’s the problem?” Kassandra eventually managed to say.

“You know they’re not supposed to be out,” said Aspasia. “It would be convenient, if they could take me a bit more seriously, but it seems they know more about my past than they should.”

Kassandra groaned and shook her head. “I told them ages ago. I didn’t think you’d turn up here, or here for that matter. They were going to come out regardless, and surely you’d prefer they do it safely. They can enjoy themselves and I’ll get them a taxi before they get too drunk.”

“They have fittings first thing in the morning. We need to go now.”

“Say please.”

For the love of God. Why did she have to get involved with the most annoying woman in the world?

“Please.” She pressed her hands together in a theatric gesture. “Please follow the scope of your job description.”

“Alright,” said Kassandra, folding her arms. “But only because you asked nicely.”

It was a relief now that she hadn’t bought herself a drink. If she had, it’s at this point she would have thrown it at her.

“Wait outside, call an Uber and cover the exit,” the chaperone said, and headed off before Aspasia could object.

She counted her blessings and found only one, that she got to leave. She waited outside and arranged the car, keeping an eye on both the map and the door. She had no idea what she was meant to do if one of them escaped. She pictured herself tackling one of them like a football player, and the mountain of legal paperwork and outrage that would follow.

Kassandra emerged minutes later with the girls in tow, but no sign of Alkibiades. It didn’t matter, really. He was only there to take pictures and videos to pepper his TikTok edits. She was happy to leave him as collateral.

“Malakes, it’s like herding cats!” Kassandra complained as she ushered them through the taxi’s doors.

“Do you do everything Aspasia tells you to?” Erinna asked, clearly underestimating her volume, and the others giggled.

“Yes, yes, very funny,” said the chaperone, “let’s all laugh at Kassandra.”

The sarcasm only encouraged them. Rocking back and forth in the back seats, they continued to sing ‘if you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends’, loud enough to be heard through the windows.

“In you go,” Kassandra finally said to Aspasia. There was one seat left next to the driver.

“I am not getting in that car.”

“They’re expecting me to get in. They’ll shut up once they realise it’s you, “ she said. “Besides, I need to go and find Alkibiades. God knows where he’ll end up if I don’t.”

“He’s not a child,” said Aspasia.

“I need to know everyone is back safe,” Kassandra argued. “That includes you. Get in the car.”

Aspasia folded her arms, drumming her fingers against her sleeve.

“Please?” Kassandra eventually sighed.

“Only because you asked nicely.”

True to the prediction, the back of the car fell quiet when Aspasia took her seat. The driver kept the silence at bay with his music, a series of House tracks. The remix of ‘The Girl Is Mine’ came on, instantly recognisable by its intro. The corners of her mouth twitched at the opportunity.

“Can you turn this one up please?”

She couldn’t risk a look in the mirror, so she settled in her smugness. She refused to be beaten on any front, and music-based warfare wouldn’t be the first. This kind of pettiness would never be beneath her.

When they arrived at the hotel, they got out with all the enthusiasm of inmates leaving a prison van. Aspasia pulled a €50 note from her pocket and dumped it in the driver’s hand.

“For your patience,” she said.

***

Anthousa’s arrival couldn’t have come soon enough. Though the day since passed without incident, it was only when her friend arrived that she could feel relief. When she walked through the hotel’s lobby with her massive Louis Vuitton suitcase, Aspasia wanted to drop everything and throw herself into a hug. She could never be that pathetic, of course, but she didn’t want to be a glorified babysitter again.

The catwalks were supposed to be the fun part. Just the preparation was tedious. The attendees were expected to be impeccably dressed too. Aspasia lifted her best dress from her suitcase and checked the absence of creases. It was sleek enough to look expensive, but subtle enough not to upstage anybody.

She took her seat in the front row as the lights went down and the air buzzed with enthusiasm. Remixed classical music began to play, and the models emerged majestically, one after the other, to a sea of applause.

There were other agencies here, but theirs outperformed them all. Damalis was the most graceful, able to walk with barely a bounce in her step. Erinna walked elegantly and slowly, soaking up every bit of attention she could. Kleio’s confidence was striking, looking firmly into the audience’s eyes like a challenge, to make sure she was the one they remembered.

Aspasia couldn’t help but reflect. She remembered how it was to walk on that stage. Some people fell to nerves, but the confidence was never fake for her. With the blaring lights and rows of awestruck faces beneath her, it felt like the world was at her feet.

As always, she left because she wanted more, but the runway brought a high that no boardroom could ever quite replicate. She wondered how different her life would be if she’d stayed, and if it would be any simpler.

Kassandra caught her eye, waiting dutifully in the shadow of the stage. Model after model passed her by in glimmering outfits, but her gaze was trained on Aspasia. This time, when she noticed, it didn’t waver.

Aspasia was reminded of the first work social. In a room full of high rollers and industry moguls, they only had eyes for each other. No matter where in the room they were, it was only a matter of time before they looked for the other, and the rest was history.

But Kassandra’s expression was different this time. It was placid, contemplative. Boldly, Aspasia winked at her. The taller woman smirked. Slowly, Kassandra raised her hands as if she meant to fix her hair, but then tugged at her ears and slipped her tongue out. It was so stupid that it never failed to make Aspasia laugh, and it didn’t fail again.

Aspasia cracked up, and Kassandra had to look away.

“Stop it,” Anthousa whispered in her ear and pinched her wrist. “It’s high fashion. It’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing at the clothes,” Aspasia said, then crafted a quick lie. “There’s a moth up there, in the lights.”

“You really have lost your mind.”

Once the show concluded and the designers took their bows, the guests were meant to linger and mingle, but she didn’t have the heart for it. She dodged the post-launch event entirely, leaving the company image in Anthousa’s capable hands instead.

When she reached the sanctity of the lift, the unlucky chaperone was already waiting in it.

“Close, close!” Kassandra said, pretending to tap the button with a mischievous grin.

“You’re welcome to take the stairs,” said Aspasia as she arrived at her side. She checked the panel, but the number 8 had already been pressed. It seemed they were on the same floor.

“Aren’t you supposed to be down there?” Aspasia asked. Kassandra played it off.

“I’ve already spoken to most of the organisers backstage. They’re harmless,” she said. “But Alkibiades and Anthousa are there too. I need a breather, told them to call me if there’s any trouble.”

It was fair, she supposed. It was far too public a setting for any kind of harassment. If there was, it was probably subtle enough to wait until the morning.

“Aren’t you supposed to be down there anyway?” Kassandra returned the question. “You know, charming people, picking their pockets, the usual stuff.”

“I have no appetite for that anymore. I’m going to bed.”

Kassandra scoffed. “Finally relatable.”

“Can I ask you something?” Aspasia turned to her. “Why do you take such pleasure in getting under my skin?”

The doors opened, and Kassandra was the first out. She leaned against the frame to let Aspasia pass.

“You’ve not made it easy,” she admitted. “But I like to know that you’re thinking of me.”

“You needn’t worry about that.”

Kassandra made a pleased sound as they started walking.

Sly flirting would only keep them going for so long. It was impulsive, risky, and far too soon, but Aspasia decided to throw her caution to the wind. There was an opportunity here, and she would never forgive herself if she didn’t take it.

“Could I ask a favour of you?” Aspasia asked, slowing as she reached her door. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“Uhhh,” Kassandra looked over her shoulder, but she had nowhere better to be. “Sure.”

Aspasia opened her door and slotted the key into the electrical box, flooding the dark space with light.

“Come,” she waved Kassandra in. “Close the door behind you.”

Kassandra sauntered in behind her and looked around the room. She might have been expecting to find a different, nicer type of suite, but it was probably identical to hers.

“Could you help me unzip this dress?” Aspasia asked.

“Oh,” Kassandra said with a smirk. “Sure.”

Aspasia moved her hair aside. Kassandra’s footsteps closed in behind her.

The zip sailed down the length of her back, stopping at the base of her hips. The air was cold against her exposed skin, until the sudden warmth of Kassandra’s hand broke it, slipping beneath the fabric around her waist to settle at the front of her ribcage.

Her blood ran even hotter. It was tempting, too tempting to lean back and press herself against her, but she had an image to maintain. The chaperone leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

Aspasia smiled. “When have I ever needed to be subtle?

“Just how much do you want me?” Kassandra asked. An open-ended question. Difficult to answer with dignity, but impossible to deny.

“I think you know.”

“Oh, I do,” she purred, nipping at her earlobe. “But I want to hear you say it.”

It was a hard thing to adjust to, her own brand of cruelty being thrown at her like this again. Her willpower deteriorated with every passing second, and she was close to giving in, but her pride stopped the words.

But then she found an idea. The only way out of this was to one-up her with a challenge of her own.

So she pulled free and took a few steps away. Kassandra looked on in astonishment, which quickly deepened as Aspasia dropped her dress to the floor and kicked off her shoes.

“Thank you for your help,” said Aspasia softly, glancing to the exit, indicating she was free to leave.

Kassandra couldn’t keep her eyes up. They flicked between her body and her face, while her expression turned from disbelief to irritation. She turned and made for the exit, and Aspasia thought she might storm out, until she reached for the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign and opened the door only to wrap it around the handle and close it again.

She returned with the same forceful purpose in her stride, and their lips collided. The game was up.

Aspasia clutched at her like a life raft, desperately touching the body she’d missed so much, aching to discover it again. Kassandra, on the other hand, was savouring her, slowly running her hands up from her waist to the back of her head.

They kissed fiercely, both refusing to yield, each trying to overpower the other. It was broken by the rise of the black shirt as Aspasia pulled it over Kassandra’s shoulders.

“If you won’t beg, I’ll have to make you,” said Kassandra.

“So much for being civil,” Aspasia whispered against her lips. She found the button of her jeans, but before she could undo it, her hands were knocked away.

“Shut up.”

Kassandra backed her onto the bed and pinned her wrists at the sides of the pillow. This aggression was a surprise, but far from unwelcome.

She loomed over her, staring down with vain satisfaction. She had her exactly where she wanted her, powerless in her grip.

And she’d certainly gotten stronger since they last met like this. Her shoulders were more rounded, her arms were thicker, and the ridge in the centre of her chest now formed a stark line. She wished she could see her thighs, but they were firmly in place at the sides of her hips.

She suppressed a shiver. Kassandra would take her however she wanted. If this was revenge, Aspasia was more than happy to suffer it.

And Kassandra wanted her to suffer every moment.

She leaned down and kissed her again, catching her lower lip hard between her teeth. Aspasia moaned as she slipped her tongue into her mouth, and the torment continued.

But there was only so much she could do like this. She shifted to the side and swapped hands. She kept hold of one wrist, slipping her arm under the pillow so she could pin the other beneath her elbow. It allowed for the same level of restraint, but with the benefit of a free arm. Clever.

She took full advantage of the new position. She shifted down, trailing kisses from her neck to her collarbones. She gently sucked her nipple, toying with the other in her hand, and before long Aspasia was so aroused that she could barely breathe.

Kassandra noticed her restlessness. She placed her hand on her cheek and brushed her lip hard with the pad of her thumb.

“If you want to be fucked, all you have to do is ask,” she said. “Use your words.”

This should have been a back and forth, if anything, to draw it out longer. She should’ve stood her ground, but she was sick to death of patience. A coil within her snapped, and the words came flying out.

“Please, Kassandra,” she pleaded. “Please fuck me, I want it so badly, I need to feel you-“

And the rest was lost, drowned by the feeling of rough hands over her tender sex.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Kassandra taunted her, but now it was impossible to care.

She slipped into a haze. She thought of every fantasy she had over the past eighteen months without her, how they all led up to this moment.

Kassandra slipped her fingers inside her, and Aspasia whined in a voice she barely recognised. It had been too long since she felt like this, a version of herself reserved only for this woman. With every push of her fingers, her thoughts turned to dust. There was no past, no future, no world outside of this room.

Kassandra quickened her pace and shifted her thumb to rest against her clit, rocking up and down as she thrusted her hand. She both loved and hated it when she fucked her like this. It was dizzying, overwhelming, and never long to last.

Still, she wanted more.

“Kiss me again,” she said breathlessly. She worried that Kassandra would continue her mean streak and force her to beg again, but she knew she would struggle to speak.

So she did. She kissed her firmly, and Aspasia kissed her fiercely back. The pleasure felt twice as strong with her eyes closed. This was how it felt to be hers. It was so intoxicating, so distracting, that she barely noticed her climax sneaking up on her.

Kassandra shot up to see her face, but Aspasia’s body betrayed her. With her hands now free, she clung on to her, doing everything in her power not to shout and wake the neighbours.

Her breathing slowed, her grip loosened, and Kassandra’s face slowly sank into a troubled look as the mist of desire lifted.

“I… should go,” she eventually said. She slipped off the bed, but Aspasia gently caught her hand.

“Stay,” said Aspasia. She wanted to return the favour, but more importantly, she wanted Kassandra to spend the night. She wanted to hold her while they slept, and she wanted to wake up next to her in the morning.

“No, I,” Kassandra fumbled her words. “I need to go. I’m sorry.”

Aspasia didn’t fight it. She watched, slightly stunned, as Kassandra threw her shirt back on and walked out, rubbing the back of her neck.

What was she supposed to make of that?

***

Kassandra did everything not to notice her at breakfast. She was rubbing her eyes, slumped over a barely touched plate of fried food. The girls were with her, caught between mild concern and the distraction of Alkibiades’ prattling. She walked past them to Anthousa’s table in the far corner of the hall.

Anthousa had the foresight to set an espresso out for her. But there was no other greeting from the supermodel. She eyed Aspasia curiously, then leaned forward to look at Kassandra. Her elbow settled on the table.

“Something happened,” said Anthousa. “Tell me everything.”

Aspasia dropped into the chair with a deep breath.

“And how do you know that? Where are you keeping your crystal ball?” she asked.

“You look fantastic. Your skin is clear, your hair is perfect, but you’re anxious. Kassandra, on the other hand, looks catatonic and riddled with regret, or embarrassment, or both. You both left early.”

“You’re wasting your talents here,” said Aspasia. “You would make a world-class detective.”

“The police don’t deserve me.” Anthousa boasted.

Aspasia risked a look at Kassandra, who unlike last night, was looking anywhere but her direction.

“What did you do?” Anthousa probed again. Aspasia lay her hands flat on the table, the way she’d seen in interrogation scenes when she flicked through the crime channels.

“Last night, after the party, I asked Kassandra to help me unzip my dress,” she said. “One thing led to another, and-“

“Ugh. Why do I even bother giving you advice if it goes straight to the bin of your brain?” asked Anthousa.

There was no point in taking advice if it was deemed unnecessary. Anthousa was intuitive, but Aspasia had since decided she knew her ex well enough to make her own calls.

“What?” Aspasia turned her hands up. “Kassandra started it!”

“You did Pilates for years and you never shut up about it. I know you can reach that zip!” Anthousa whisper-shouted. “How did you fasten it in the first place, genius?”

“I’ve built a bridge!” Aspasia argued at a normal volume. The others were were too far away to hear. It was stupid and unnecessary, but now Aspasia was hissing too.

“This isn’t a bridge, it’s a fucking high wire. You’ve both made it clear you can’t keep your feelings in check, and if this doesn’t fix itself, there’s a good chance it’ll push her to leave.”

The other table craned their necks as they noticed the muted bickering. It was even enough to pull Kassandra away from the fascination of her own shoes. Her eyes met Aspasia’s, just for a moment, and then she pretended to take an interest in the chandelier.

It seemed the two Directors had swapped roles in this matter. Anthousa seemed to want a full relationship repair timeline document, with action points and completion dates, where Aspasia was happy to go with her gut.

“Much as I’d love to stay and argue, it’s far too early in the morning.” Aspasia knocked back her coffee and rose from her chair. “And I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Bullshitter. It’s 9AM on a Saturday,” Anthousa laughed.

“Yet it’s true,” Aspasia lied. “You should find new ways to occupy yourself, a hobby that doesn’t involve prying.”

“And you should find one that doesn’t involve-“

Aspasia walked away, knowing Anthousa couldn’t shout the rest after her.

***

With it being the weekend, there were no grounds for a quick return to the office. They left the schedule blank, as a day of rest before the return journey tomorrow.

Anthousa decided to go out with Alkibiades, and after the cagey exchange at breakfast, Aspasia thought it best to avoid her.

She expected the girls to pick up their fun where it left off, but they decided to spend their day shopping. And Kassandra had no choice but to accompany them.

So Aspasia spent most of the day in her room. She tidied up her inbox and took some time to check in with her business connections. In the afternoon she ran her routine checks of the stock market, and grinned when she saw Kosmos’ share prices still plummeting in her absence.

They’d called her so many times to bring her back that she’d blocked their numbers. They even resorted to calling the office to reach her, so she put them through to Alkibiades and told him to have his fun. They didn’t call again.

She had room service bring her food in the evening, then she packed. She’d just finished with her suitcase when a text came through.

Kassandra
Can we talk?

Aspasia
Of course.
You remember where my room is?

Kassandra
NOT YOUR ROOM 😭 😭
Neutral strip-free ground please
I’m on the terrace

Aspasia smiled at first, but it soon fell to worry. She was quick to dismiss Anthousa’s concern, but this really didn’t bode well. It had all the signs of a make-or-break discussion. But whatever Kassandra had in store for her, she had to meet it head on. It was only fair.

***

The terrace was secluded and cool. Aspasia chose the hotel for convenience, since it was the same one to host the party, but it boasted scenic views of the city. She could see the streets lined with grand baroque architecture, crested by cathedral domes, with a gentle blend of modern buildings in the distance.

Anthousa and the others picked a table close to the bar, caught in a heavy debate about whether skinny jeans were truly out of fashion or not.

Kassandra waited with her back to her, taking in the sights at the edge of the railing. Aspasia walked over slowly and joined her by her side.

“When I moved to Korinth, and Anthousa handed me the keys, my family came to help me move in,” Kassandra said. “In my mother’s eyes, nobody is ever good enough for her children, but she took Anthousa into the other room, where she thought we couldn’t hear. She made Anthousa promise that none of the girls were trouble.”

Her only experience with Myrrine was the evening of the fallout, and though she appeared polite at first, she quickly became a tigress. No wonder Anthousa didn’t mention the encounter. She was probably terrified of her.

“That sounds about right.”

“The earful I got when she found out you’d joined the company,” Kassandra shook her head, laughing fondly. “She said things about Anthousa I can never repeat, and demanded that I drive straight home to Athens.”

“But here you are.”

Kassandra nodded. “Here I am, because you are trouble, and it seems I can’t keep away,” she said. “The more I fight it, the deeper it gets.”

“Like quicksand,” Aspasia said.

“Yeah.” Kassandra turned to face her. “Or a very thick, muddy bog. Take your pick.”

Quicksand was preferable, but she couldn’t blame her for comparing it to something worse. If she wanted to salvage this, she had to explain herself before Kassandra asked her to.

“What I did was stupid. I did it because I was scared. I’ve spent years weaving an image for myself, building a character I thought I was,” Aspasia explained. “You were a loose thread, and I was scared that if I tugged too hard it would all unravel.” She crossed her arms over the railing and shifted her weight uncomfortably. “I wish I could say that it was hard to betray you, but it was easy. It was a knee-jerk reaction, one I did coldly, without thinking. I paid the price for months after in guilt. I’m still paying for it now.”

Kassandra took it with somber understanding.

“The truth is as ugly as I thought, but it’s something I can work with,” she said. Aspasia accepted it grimly, although ‘work with’ was promising language. “Thank you for being honest.”

“I stayed, I thought, for the sake of my career. But it didn’t take me long to realise that the only good thing in that place was you,” said Aspasia.

“You were a nightmare to work for,” Kassandra laughed dryly. “You were a prodigy, a champion at getting numbers on the chart, but everybody hated you. Everyone except for me. I stayed because I loved you.”

“I can see why you’d think I didn’t love you, but I swear that I did,” said Aspasia. “When my head and heart are at odds, the latter tends to lose. I was selfish, and I’m sorry.”

“I never stopped thinking about you,” said Kassandra. “Even when I knew it would do me no good. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” said Aspasia. “More than I care to admit.”

“That company was a shitshow, but I’m curious to see who you are without it,” said Kassandra. “Do you think we could start again?”

The directness surprised her. She didn’t expect such a generous chance, and certainly not so early. Kassandra must have been hiding more than she thought.

“I...” Aspasia stuttered, “if that’s what you want, yes. I would like that.”

“It would be a shame not to try,” said Kassandra. “I mean, who are we kidding?”

Kassandra nodded towards their colleagues. They were all watching fixedly now, but Alkibiades was the one to respond. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and wolf-whistled, drawing shoves and chuckles from the others.

Aspasia smiled. She wouldn’t waste this chance. She was already thinking of ways to spoil her rotten, and she would move heaven and earth to make her happy.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” she said.

Kassandra slid her arm around her back, and for the first time in a while, the world felt the right way up again.

“We’ll be alright,” she said. “There are no more secrets here.”

Chapter Text

Taking it slow was never an option.

Three months. That’s how long it took for Kassandra to move into Aspasia’s house. It was a lush seaside villa, not far from where Kleio lived, but the neighbours rarely crossed paths.

It took six months for Aspasia to stop apologising, in her wordless, awkward way. It started with designer clothes and masculine jewellery, then it escalated to games console and tech. Kassandra was thrilled, but far too polite and bashful to accept them upfront, so eventually Aspasia stopped asking. She would come home every fortnight or so to some lavish gift or other.

One day, to top it all off, she bought a week-long trip to the Caribbean for Kassandra and her family.

“I can’t take this,” Kassandra baulked, staring down at the booking details. “Thank you, but I can’t be gone for a week. The girls-“

“I'm sure they can tolerate Ilias for a few days. I’ve already approved your leave,” said Aspasia. She slid the completed form over. “It only needs your signature.”

“I…” Kassandra faltered, then raised a blushing smile. “Thank you.”

Myrrine, naturally, was up in arms when she found out where the money had come from. But six hours in the sun and a Piña Colada later, she mellowed.

“Perhaps the leopard really has changed her spots,” she mused, reclining on the poolside lounger, adjusting her sunglasses over her eyes. “She’s still on thin ice though. As soon as there’s a problem, you call me, understand?”

“Yep,” said Kassandra. It was exactly this kind of attitude that made her mother so unapproachable. The biggest issue in their new relationship was their opposing approaches to loading the dishwasher. Hardly worth a call home.

Alexios jumped in the air from the board, tucking his knees up to his chest to hit the pool like a cannonball. The impact created a tall wave which made one child cry, and another try to swim away from the ripples in her oversized armbands.

The lifeguard blew his whistle and hurried down from the ladder to give him a stern talking-to. Alexios threw his soaking hair back over his head and laughed, offering a grin and a wink at the toned young man. Kassandra ignored it. This wasn’t her problem anymore.

She enjoyed the break, but she didn’t mind when it was over. The villa was a much calmer place to return to. It was far away from the city noise of Athens, the thumping music that polluted the streets every weekend and screeching car horns. The noisiest thing now was seagulls, and the best thing about the beach, in Kassandra’s view, was the stray cats that lingered there.

She began to recognise them as she walked past, and one by one she gave them names. Callista, Spiros, Kostas, Tzatziki and Tax Fraud. But to give something a name was to grow attached. She started putting out food for them. One would come, then a second, and before long there’d be a small cohort of them on the porch.

“Look at this,” Kassandra said with a grin as they swarmed around her ankles. “They love me.”

“Of course they love you. You’re feeding them.” Aspasia sat on the decking with a trade magazine. “It’s transactional.”

“No,” Kassandra cooed, bending down to scratch one of them behind the ear. “You love me. We don’t listen to Aspasia, do we? Aspasia has a very dim view of the world, yes she does.”

The cats mewed in agreement, shouldering past one another for attention.

A week later, three kilograms of high-end cat food and a two-metre wooden cat tower arrived at the door in Aspasia’s name.

She wasn’t the only one to order deliveries, either.

One afternoon, Gelon asked Kassandra for her address with the promise of a memento. She wouldn’t say what it was, only that she would understand when she saw it. Kassandra reluctantly accepted. She found the package two days later, waiting behind the plant pot by the front door. She picked it up and tested its weight. Thankfully, it was too light to be anything vulgar.

She brought it through to the kitchen and dropped it on the countertop.

“What’s that?” Aspasia asked, lifting her eyes from her laptop.

“A gift from Gelon.”

“Gelon?” The old name was enough to pique Aspasia’s interest. She slid down from her stool and stood by her side.

She tore it open and almost dropped it, with grumbling amusement.

“What is it?”

Kassandra pulled out a box of Lindor. The relic of a past life. The world began and ended with these. She gripped the box from the top and lifted it up as though she’d discovered some kind of ancient treasure.

“Chocolates?” Aspasia teased. “You’ve reacted like this over chocolate?”

Kassandra set the box down.

“You have no idea. I used to steal these from Kleon’s desk by way of compensation. It drove him mad.”

“I should have known.” Aspasia gave her a light shove. “All this time I suspected Odessa and Barnabas, but it was you. You’re the reason he had that malakas camera! I hope they’re fucking worth it.” Her words were strong, but her face was light with humour.

“It hardly matters now, does it?” said Kassandra.

So much had changed since then. They met in a place of misfortune. Things changed for the better, for the worse, eventually for the better again, and now they were in a much calmer place. Kassandra didn’t dread her mornings anymore. Aspasia worked just as hard, but her work was truly rewarding, and she always had an open pair of loving arms to come home to.

Most of all, the weekends didn’t feel half as short. Before, they had to treasure their time together, adding an undue sense of urgency to an already precarious situation.

Now, it felt like they had all the time in the world.