“Yeah, I need to catch up on my paperwork. I’ll also be at the center,” she said.
In Zoey’s spare time, she enjoyed working with kids at the youth center. All were from at-risk homes, and I didn’t doubt she would be the Michelle Pfeiffer those kids needed to stay out of trouble.
“Where were you last night? I didn’t hear you come in.”
I smothered a smile, trying my best to contain my excitement “Brogan’s.”
Her eyes widened. “Like, with Brogan?”
“Not with him with him, just spent the evening on his couch.”
“I need all the details, woman. Did he remove the stick out of his ass before he entered his home, or is that a twenty-four seven accessory?”
“I kind of walked in on him as he got out of the shower.”
Her brows disappeared under her bangs. “The plot thickens.”
“That’s what she said,” I interjected. I could never pass up a good that’s what she said joke.
She gave me a look. “The pun was totally intended. Okay, hold on—was he naked?”
“In a towel, but I saw things.”
“Things,” she repeated and gave a quizzical look.
I raised my brow. “Things.”
“And how did these things measure up?” She put her hands out, using them as a makeshift ruler. I shook my head, and she spread them wider. I shook my head again, and she gaped. “Dear God, woman. That just sounds unhealthy.”
A delicious heat pulsed between my legs just thinking about his lean chest. The water droplets that clung to his skin. The edges where tanned skin met intricate tattoos. “I didn’t actually see it, so it might have been a mirage.”
“And you just watched movies…on his couch? Or are we talking, like, Netflix and chill?”
“Just a movie.” I frowned. Did it still count as friendly if I’d wished more had happened? I didn’t quite know how to feel about that yet. It had been a long time since I’d saddled back up for dating, and in terms of horses, Brogan was an Arabian. Wild, untouchable, not meant to be ridden by employees in any capacity. Why couldn’t I set my sights on a nice Paint. Or a show pony? Something safe.
Not only was it against company policy, but if I went for him (which I totally wouldn’t, because I liked to think my hormones didn’t make me stupid), what happened if it ended badly? I couldn’t afford to lose this job.
A cashmere scarf and riding boots were perfect accessories to pump up a dreary fall day. Red and yellow trees lined the sidewalks, and mist hung in the air, coating my clothing in a light sheen of raindrops. Like most of those living in the Pacific Northwest, I tugged my hood over my head tighter, opting out of an umbrella. Nobody but transplants used umbrellas, and I wasn’t going to start now.
As soon as I got in the building, I removed my coat and shook off the water beading on the fabric. I smiled to myself as I pushed the button to the fortieth floor, thinking back to the other night. The Brogan cold front had passed and was now turning into a major heat wave.
Jackson was at his desk, typing away, when I breezed through the elevator doors, this time keeping my coat tightly fixed to my sides. A coffee cup was sitting in the middle of my desk, and I cut my gaze to Jackson.
“Who left this here?” In a moment of weakness, I hoped it was Brogan, like a secret “I had so much fun the other night, here’s a cup of coffee because I think you’re awesome” kind of treat.
“Zelda.”
Relief and disappointment flooded over me. Of course it would be from my only friend in the company and not the man who I walked in on naked. Okay, almost naked. Wishful thinking. What dream world did I live in where CEOs of multi-billion dollar corporations doted on assistants? I really needed to lay off the office romances for a little bit because, much like Disney princesses, they were planting unrealistic ideas in my head, like the possibility that my boss could be smitten over me. Because in real life, if I screwed things up, it wasn’t just my life that would be ruined. “Oh? Do you know why?”
He pointed to his pinched face and said, “Does this look like a face that cares enough to ask?”
“No,” I said under my breath. “No, it doesn’t.”
I gave a tentative smile as I tore open the note left under my coffee.
Happy two-month anniversary at Starr Media. Here’s to many, many more!
-Z
Six weeks longer than my last two predecessors.
I took a sip and groaned. My absolute favorite drink.
“Double caramel mocha. Light on the whip,” said Zelda as she rounded the corner to the front of the office.
“How did you know?”
She put her hands on her hips, and her dangly earrings jingled as she talked. “Girl, it’s my job to know everything.”
“Right.” I took another sip. “And thank you. This is really nice.”