Not that I'm trying to manipulate Sebastian with my appearance or anything.
Okay, maybe I am. Just a little. Sue me.
I tug my wool coat tighter around me as the elevator climbs to the fourteenth floor, the light camel color contrasting nicely with the rich burgundy underneath. The weather report said we're in for another frigid day—typical December in Texas—but honestly, the cold is the least of my concerns right now. My stomach is doing that uncomfortable twisty thing it does before presentations, except this is much worse. Because this isn't about quarterly marketing strategies or client retention; this is about swallowing my pride and asking for a favor that could potentially backfire in spectacular fashion.
The doors slide open with a ding, and I step out into the hallway, mentally rehearsing what I'm going to say for the millionth time.
Hey Sebastian, yeah, it's me. The girl you made orgasm so hard that she forgot her own name and the one who has been actively avoiding you since you started working at TMG. Also, funny story...
God, this is going to be a train wreck. But what choice do I have? Emily's plan has backed me into a corner, and I'd rather face humiliation than admit defeat to Ethan.
"Morning, Charlie!"
I nearly jump out of my skin as Zoe materializes beside me, clipboard in hand and somehow keeping pace with me despite her impractical heels that click against the polished floor. Her bright smile is almost offensive this early in the morning, especially given my current state of emotional turmoil.
"Jesus, Zoe. We've talked about the ninja approach." I press a hand to my chest, feeling my heart hammering beneath my palm. "You're going to give someone a heart attack one of these days."
"Sorry!"
She doesn't look sorry at all, her glossy ponytail bouncing as she falls into step beside me. "I've got your schedule for today. The Apex team wants to move the call to 2 PM, and Amelia asked if you could look over the Q4 projections by end of day. Oh, and marketing sent up the mockups for the spring campaign. They're on your desk waiting for approval."
I nod absently, scanning the office. No sign of him yet. "Is Sebastian in?"
"Not yet." Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. "But oh my god, can we talk about how hot he is? Like, is it even fair for someone to look like that AND be good at his job? The man walks into a meeting and my brain just turns to absolute mush."
If only you knew, Zoe. If only you knew exactly how those blue eyes look when they're staring down at you, or how that perpetually messy hair feels between your fingers, or what that voice sounds like when it's whispering in your ear at 1 AM.
"He's... competent," I manage, desperately hoping my face isn't betraying the highlight reel currently playing in my head.
"Competent?" She looks at me like I've just said water isn't wet, her perfectly shaped eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hairline. "He's a goddamn Greek god who somehow ended up in marketing. Those eyes alone could convinceme to buy sand in a desert. And have you seen him when he rolls up his sleeves during presentations? I swear Janet from accounting nearly fainted yesterday."
"Could you let me know when he gets in, please?" I cut her off before I have to hear any more about Sebastian's eyes, which I'm already far too familiar with, or about his forearms, which are usually featured prominently in my more inappropriate daydreams. "And I could really use a coffee."
"On it. Vanilla latte?" She brightens, already shifting mental gears.
"Make it a double shot please. I have a feeling I'll need it."Or maybe just an IV drip of espresso directly into my veins to get me through this day.
"Coming right up." She turns to leave, ponytail swinging behind her.
"Thanks Zoe." I call behind me as I walk into my office and close the door behind me, leaning against it for a moment. This is insane. I'm about to ask my one-night stand coworker to pretend to be my boyfriend for a week-long family vacation. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Emily's voice echoes in my head:It's either that or let Ethan think he won.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Did you ask the hottie yet?
Lily
I groan, hanging my coat on my coat rack and sinking into my desk chair. Right after dinner Emily had called Lily about this ridiculous plan so she could have reinforcements when I got home to make sure I didn't talk myself out of it. The two of them had spent an hour strategizing as if this were some kind of military operation instead of the most embarrassing conversation of my professional life.
Not yet.
Remember eye contact is key.
And maybe undo an extrabutton
Lily
