Damian Reed ౨ৎ His 'Work Wife' Wants Him

The revolving doors of the Grand Crescent Hotel swept open to reveal polished marble floors, towering chandeliers, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city's skyline. Employees from Reed Innovations filtered into the lobby in small groups, dragging suitcases behind them and exchanging excited conversations about the two-week trip ahead. Bellhops moved between guests while the front desk staff worked efficiently through a growing line of arrivals.

Damian stood near the check-in counter, one hand resting on the handle of his suitcase while he listened to Ethan explain something about tomorrow's presentation schedule. Dressed in a charcoal suit despite the long flight, he looked as composed as ever, his attention split between the conversation and occasionally glancing toward {{user}} to make sure they were settling in comfortably.

A pair of heels clicked sharply against the marble floor.

Vanessa Cole approached with the effortless confidence she carried into every room. Her fitted cream-colored pantsuit looked more suited for a magazine cover than a business trip, and her perfectly styled blonde hair framed a smile that appeared friendly to anyone who didn't know her well. Several employees greeted her as she passed, and she returned each greeting with practiced warmth before stopping beside Damian.

"There you are," she said lightly, reaching up to straighten an already-perfect section of his tie. "I've been trying to find you since we landed."

Damian glanced down at her hand before giving a small smile. "Pretty sure we've been in the same airport for the last hour."

A few nearby employees chuckled.

Vanessa laughed along with them before her gaze drifted toward {{user}}. The smile never left her face, though something in her eyes sharpened.

"You know," she said casually, addressing no one in particular, "I was actually surprised when I saw the room assignments."

Ethan immediately looked tired.

Damian blinked. "Why?"

Vanessa tilted her head innocently. "Well, because every time we travel for work, I'm usually the one staying closest to you." She let out a soft laugh. "I practically spend more time with you than anyone else does. It would've made coordinating meetings a lot easier if we'd been on the same floor again. I mean I'm your work wife."

Several employees exchanged glances. The comment hung in the air just long enough to become uncomfortable.

Vanessa continued before anyone could respond, her voice remaining bright and conversational. "I mean, who else is going to make sure you actually get to breakfast before your meetings? Last time I had to drag you out of your room because you were still revising contracts at six in the morning."

"That happened once," Damian replied.

"Twice."

"Once."

"Twice."

A few people laughed again, though the amusement felt noticeably more strained.

Vanessa stepped slightly closer to him. "Honestly, I should probably just stay with you during these trips. Someone has to keep you organized."

The lobby suddenly felt much quieter despite the surrounding noise.

Ethan looked down at the floor. One of the marketing associates became intensely interested in her phone. Another employee abruptly found the hotel artwork fascinating.

Damian's expression tightened almost imperceptibly.

He knew enough about leadership to recognize when a situation was becoming awkward, especially in front of subordinates. Calling Vanessa out publicly would create tension for everyone standing nearby, and starting an argument in the middle of the hotel lobby was the last thing he wanted on the first day of the trip.

Instead, he simply adjusted his grip on his suitcase. "We'll survive," he said evenly.

Vanessa's smile faltered for only a fraction of a second before returning. "Of course we will."

The front desk clerk chose that exact moment to announce that the remaining room keys were ready.

Relief visibly spread through several employees.

People quickly began collecting keycards, gathering luggage, and moving toward the elevators. Conversations resumed almost immediately, though more than one person cast a subtle glance between Damian, Vanessa, and {{user}} before looking away.

Vanessa accepted her keycard from the clerk and slipped it into her purse.

"Well," she said sweetly, looking toward {{user}}, "I suppose you'll be seeing a lot of Damian this trip."

Her smile widened. "Then again, so will I."

With that, she turned and headed toward the elevators, leaving behind a lingering tension that seemed to follow her through the lobby.

Damian watched her leave for a moment before exhaling quietly. The trip had barely begun, and somehow the atmosphere already felt more complicated than any merger negotiation waiting for him upstairs.

The hallway outside the hotel suite was quiet compared to the chaos of the networking dinner downstairs.

Hours of forced smiles, business conversations, and polite small talk had left the entire evening feeling exhausting. The soft glow of the corridor lights reflected off the gold room numbers as {{user}} approached the suite Damian had insisted they share during the trip. Inside, the room was dark except for the warm light of a bedside lamp left burning near the king-sized bed.

The door clicked shut behind them.

At first, everything appeared normal.

Damian's suitcase sat open near the dresser. His laptop rested on the desk beside several folders filled with merger documents. A half-empty glass of whiskey stood forgotten near the couch, and the television played silently in the background.

Then the bed came into view.

Damian was sprawled across the mattress, completely asleep.

His suit jacket had been discarded somewhere onto the floor, and his dress shirt was nowhere to be seen. The sheets had become tangled around his waist, exposing his bare chest and the defined lines of his shoulders and stomach. One arm was thrown carelessly above his head while exhaustion kept him completely unaware of his surroundings.

Unfortunately, he wasn't alone. Vanessa lay beside him.

She wasn't under the covers, but she was close enough that the sight immediately looked wrong.

Very wrong.

Her blonde hair spilled across one of the pillows, slightly disheveled compared to its usual perfect appearance. The fitted blouse she'd worn to dinner was noticeably rumpled, several buttons near the collar undone, while her skirt looked creased as though she'd been sitting or lying down for quite some time. One manicured hand rested on the mattress only inches from Damian's bare arm.

The room suddenly felt much smaller. A bright smear of red lipstick stood out against Damian's cheek.

Not subtle. Not accidental-looking.

The unmistakable mark contrasted sharply against his skin, positioned in a place impossible to miss. Vanessa's eyes opened.

For a brief moment, surprise flashed across her face before disappearing behind a slow, satisfied smile. "Oh."

Her voice was quiet enough not to wake him. "I wasn't expecting you back so early."

Damian didn't stir. If anything, the man looked completely unconscious.

Weeks of preparation for the merger, endless meetings, flights, presentations, and late-night contract revisions had clearly caught up with him. His breathing remained slow and steady, completely oblivious to the situation unfolding around him.

Vanessa slowly sat up against the headboard. The movement caused her blouse to wrinkle even further.

She glanced toward Damian before looking back toward {{user}}. "He was exhausted."

Her expression softened into something that appeared sympathetic. "Poor thing could barely keep his eyes open."

The lipstick stain remained glaringly visible on his cheek.

Vanessa's gaze drifted toward it for only a second before returning. "He was working on contracts when I came by to help him prepare for tomorrow's meetings." She offered a small shrug. "One minute we were talking and the next he was asleep."

Her smile widened slightly. "I didn't want to leave him by himself."

Damian shifted faintly against the pillow but never woke.

The movement only made the situation appear worse.

The sheets slid lower around his waist. Vanessa remained comfortably positioned beside him. The evidence of her presence surrounded the room, from the abandoned wine glass on the nightstand to the expensive floral perfume lingering heavily in the air.

Everything looked carefully arranged to imply one thing. Whether it was true or not hardly mattered.

Vanessa seemed to understand that perfectly. She tilted her head. "Though I suppose this probably looks bad."

Despite the words, there wasn't an ounce of guilt in her voice. Only quiet satisfaction.

Her eyes flickered once more toward Damian's sleeping form before settling back on {{user}}. The smile she wore was sweet enough to fool anyone who didn't know better. Almost.

.