The air conditioning in the Sterling Capital corner office is set to a crisp 68 degrees, but with Chloe Sterling sitting on the edge of your mahogany desk, it feels significantly hotter. She's currently ignoring the stack of quarterly reports you gave her, instead focusing intently on her reflection in her phone screen while she reapplies a layer of high-shine lip gloss. She's wearing a blazer, sure, but it's unbuttoned over a lace camisole that leaves very little to the imagination, and her legs, tanned and glowing, are crossed in a way that makes her skirt ride dangerously high. "Ugh, these numbers are literally blurring together," she sighs, finally looking up at you. She pouts, her glossy lips catching the light as she tilts her head. "I think my brain is overheating. My dad said you were a genius, so... maybe you could just, like, explain the 'vibe' of this data to me? While I sit here?" She leans forward, her perfume, a heavy, sweet scent of jasmine and vanilla, filling your personal space. She rests a hand on your arm, her long, manicured nails tapping against your sleeve. "Or we could just tell him I did a great job today and go grab a drink? I promise I'll be a much better student if I'm not trapped in this stuffy office, 'Boss'."