Business aside

The silver dome lifted to reveal what looked like an edible art installation. Pan-seared salmon rested on a bed of microgreens, its skin crispy and golden, surrounded by a constellation of roasted fingerling potatoes that gleamed with herbs and olive oil. A delicate sauce traced abstract patterns across the plate like an artist's signature. Beside it sat a crystal decanter of what Alex suspected was worth more than his monthly salary – back when he had a salary that didn't belong to someone else.

'This is Jason's favorite dish?' Alex thought sarcastically, taking in the culinary masterpiece. 'What happened to pizza and beer?' Then again, given everything else he'd learned about Jason Rivers tonight, having caviar taste shouldn't have been surprising.

"What are you waiting for? Dig in!" Sarah's grin held a playful edge he hadn't seen before. "I know you love it."

The wine – a Château something-or-other that probably cost more than his old car – filled their glasses with liquid amber. As the evening wore on and the decanter grew lighter, the weight of secret societies and divine debts seemed to lift slightly from Alex's shoulders.

"Okay, but seriously," Sarah said, gesturing with her fork, "remember that time with the method actor who wouldn't break character for three months?"

"No, but I have a feeling you're about to remind me," Alex replied, grateful that the wine provided an excuse for not remembering.

"He was playing a 17th-century French aristocrat in some period piece. Refused to use modern plumbing. The studio had to install a chamber pot in his trailer!" Sarah dissolved into giggles, the usually composed PA coming undone at the memory.

Alex found himself laughing too, though whether at the story or the way Sarah's eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled, he wasn't quite sure. The wine made everything feel softer, warmer, more possible.

***

Miles away, in her penthouse fortress of luxury, Jessica's perfectly manicured nail tapped against her phone screen as she read Jason's response: 'Is this how bad you want me? Save up your energy for later darling. I'll punish you for making me horny right now' 🔥😈💋

"Now we're talking," she purred, satisfaction curling through her voice like smoke. "My Jason is gradually coming back to his old self!" Her wicked smile reflected in the floor-to-ceiling windows, multiplying across the city lights below like a promise – or a threat.

***

Back in the hotel room, the wine had worked its magic. Sarah's gown had been discarded over a chair, her silk blouse catching the room's dim light. Alex had loosened his tie, the top buttons of his shirt undone. They'd migrated to the plush sofa, the remains of dinner forgotten on the table.

"You never told me," Sarah said, her words slightly soft around the edges, "what really happened that night. At the party."

Alex's heart skipped. "The night of the...accident?"

She nodded, leaning closer. The scent of her perfume – something expensive and subtle, like everything else about her – made it hard to think straight. "You've been acting so different since after the accident. Sometimes I wonder if..." She trailed off, her hand coming to rest on his knee.

The touch sent electricity through him, burning away some of the wine's pleasant haze. 'This is dangerous,' he thought. But he couldn't seem to make himself move away.

"Sarah," he started, not sure what he was going to say. Her name felt different on his tongue now, weighted with something he couldn't – or shouldn't – name.

She looked up at him through dark lashes, and suddenly the space between them seemed both infinite and microscopic. The city lights sparkled beyond the window like distant stars, casting them in a dream-like glow.

Later, neither would be quite sure who moved first. The kiss was soft, tentative, nothing like the theatrical passion Jason Rivers was famous for. Sarah's hands found their way to Alex's hair, and his mind went blissfully blank of everything except the warmth of her touch.

They stumbled toward the bed, a dance of near-misses with furniture and walls. Some distant part of Alex's brain screamed that this was a terrible idea, that he was already in deeper than the Mariana Trench, that adding this complication to his tower of lies would bring everything crashing down.

But Sarah's lips found his neck, and coherent thought became a distant memory.

Alex found himself lost in her eyes, the moment stretching like honey. But then reality flickered through his wine-hazed mind like a cold breeze. He was living a lie, pretending to be someone else. Sarah trusted him – trusted Jason – completely. That trust meant more than any moment of weakness.

He blinked, breaking the spell. Sarah had already settled against his shoulder, her eyes growing heavy. Her breathing slowed, becoming soft and regular. Alex smiled softly, watching her drift off to sleep. She looked peaceful, beautiful in a way that made his chest ache with guilt.

'This is how it should be,' he thought, careful not to wake her as he shifted into a more comfortable position. 'Just this. Nothing more.' The wine and warmth pulled at his consciousness, and his last thought before sleep took him was, 'I am in so much trouble.'

***

The alarm's shriek cut through Alex's consciousness like a chainsaw through silk. 7:00 AM glowed accusingly from the bedside clock as Sarah jerked upright beside him, her usually perfect hair beautifully disheveled.

Alex sat up slowly, his head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton wool, and rubbed his eyes. The morning sun streaming through the window was far too bright, too real, too...

'Oh god.'

Reality crashed back in waves: The warm weight against his side was Sarah. Sarah, who thought he was Jason. Sarah, who knew all of Jason's secrets – well, most of them. Sarah, who was now looking at him with an expression that sat somewhere between mortification and wonder.

"Shit," she muttered, memories of the night before floating back like debris after a shipwreck. "What happened last night?"