Page 123 of Sin

“I’m really proud of Lust, and I think the other models will do just as well.”

He doesn’t press the issue, which I’m thankful for. Mostly because I am not sure how to explain that I look happier because I’ve been sleeping with the CEO. Repeatedly. In multiple states. And offices. Stairwells. Trucks. Apartments. Elevators. Conference room floors…

So instead, I smile like a professional and try not to sway on my heels.

The truth is, I do feel awful.

My head aches. My throat is scratchy. My skin has that too-hot, too-cold feeling that means my immune system has packed a bag and fled the country. But I’ve worked too hard on this presentation to let a stupid cold take me down.

“Ready?” Tate asks.

No. Absolutely not.

“Yes.”

He opens the boardroom door. Every chair is full. There are shareholders around the long table, a few senior executives along the wall, Dante near the windows, Owen looking like he’s about to personally audit everyone’s posture, and Sin at the head of the table.

My stomach does something ridiculous.

Then I remember where I am. And who he is. And who I am supposed to be.

I walk to the front of the room, set my laptop down, and smile.

“Good morning. Thank you for making time. Today I’ll be walking you through the final launch strategy for the Sins line, with a focus on Lust’s market positioning, projected retail performance, and cross-category expansion.”

My voice comes out steady. Thank God.

The first slide appears behind me, and I start with the data. Retailer interest from Amsterdam. Preorder projections. Consumer feedback. International buyer notes. Press language. Feature comparisons. Sensory design differentiators. Launch timing.

I know this product. I know every curve, motor, material choice, pressure point, packaging sample, and very unfortunate early prototype that died in the lab with a sound no adult toy should ever make. By slide four, the room is listening. By slide eight, one of the board members leans forward. By slide twelve, Owen has stopped looking like he wants to object on principle. By slide fifteen, Dante is smiling.

And Sin?

Sin doesn’t move.

He sits at the head of the table with one hand resting beside his notebook, his gaze fixed on me like I am the only person in the room.

It steadies me.

I talk about Lust not as a novelty item, but as a flagship product. I explain why the line works because each model has a distinct identity, not just a gimmick. I show how Envy can follow as a natural companion release, then Pride as a separate category expansion with a more luxury-driven approach.

Questions come. I answer them. Margins. Production risk. Quality control. International compliance. Retail training. Marketing sensitivity.

I answer everything. At some point, I stop feeling sick. Or maybe I just stop caring.

When I finish, the room is quiet for one terrifying second. Then Dante starts clapping. Tate joins him. Then someone else. Then the entire room.

My face goes hot. Oh no. Applause. My worst enemy.

I glance toward Sin before I can stop myself. His expression has changed. Barely. But I know him now. I know what that slight softness around his mouth means. I know what it means when his eyes warm and his jaw loosens like he’s holding back something he wants to say.

He’s proud of me.

My chest tightens so fast it hurts and I look away before anyone can see it on my face.

Tate catches up with me after the meeting, grinning like he personally birthed the product line.

“You crushed that.”