“There is no me and Cassidy,” Emma said glumly.
Riley gently poked Emma’s cheek. “Really? Because I know orgasm-induced glow when I see it and your complexion is looking quite dewy this morning.”
Emma ignored this. Good—no, excellent—sex with Cassidy was the least of her worries. That had never been their problem.
She leaned down, rummaging around in her bag until she came up with the blue folder where she always kept her in-progress articles. She held it up.
“So what do I do?”
“The story is done?” Grace asked.
“Yup.”
“It’s just Cassidy-free,” Grace clarified.
Emma nodded.
Riley shrugged. “So? Tell him that. He can’t make you write about him. It’d be a repulsive abuse of power, and that’s not what he’s about.”
“And yet,” Grace said, holding up a finger, “he was the one who had her write this in the first place. That right there was a power play.”
“True. But he won’t push it,” Riley said. She glanced at Emma. “Not now.”
“He won’t?” Emma asked hopefully.
“I don’t think so,” Riley said thoughtfully. “I think he got what he wanted.”
“Did you finally think of a word that rhymes with *?”
“No, damn it.” Then her friend smiled. “Look, I’m not going to say that you two haven’t been dripping some sort of strange sexual tension since I met you. But I don’t think that was his goal, either. I think he just wanted you to see him.”
“Naked,” Grace chimed in. “He wanted you to see him naked.”
“Definitely,” Riley mused. “But not just that.”
“Okay, enough with this,” Emma said, waving in a circular motion at Riley’s face. “What’s with the strange oracle vagueness? Just spit it out already.”
“Cassidy wanted to get your attention,” Riley clarified. “That’s why he had you write the article. And now that he has it? I don’t think he’s going to push you to write about him. Hell, he may actually prefer that you don’t. Besides, it’s not like you guys’ history is any big secret around here.”
“Okay, hold on,” Emma said. “You’re making it seem like he and I are getting back together. Cassidy and I did sleep together, but that’s all it was.”
Riley shrugged. “Fair enough. But a word of advice?”
“Oh, no,” Grace muttered.
“What?” Emma asked warily.
“When you tell him that you cut him out of your article while writing about eleven other guys you’ve slept with?”
“Yessssss?” Emma asked, when Riley didn’t continue.
Her friend reached down and quickly flicked one of the buttons on Emma’s shirt, revealing a bit more cleavage.
“There,” Riley said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “That ought to help the matter.”
Emma rolled her eyes and stood, tapping her blue folder against her palm. “Okay. I’m heading up to his office. Wish me luck.”
Grace nodded in the direction of Emma’s boobs. “Keep your shirt like that, and I don’t think you’re going to need it.”
Emma gave them both an exasperated look before she walked out of the office and headed for the elevator.
She did not, however, rebutton her blouse.
Chapter 25
Emma nearly ran headfirst into Cole Sharpe, who was about to get onto the elevator as she was getting off on the Oxford floor.
“Miss Sinclair,” Cole said, managing to grab her hand and kiss the back of it before she realized what was happening. “What brings you up to the forbidden man cave this morning?”
“The man cave? Is that what you call it? Because it looks an awful lot like the Stiletto floor except with sports paraphernalia instead of cosmetic samples.”
“Nope, it’s definitely a man cave,” Cole said. “You’re just blind to it on account of your ovaries. You can’t help it.”