A reminder, it says.
A reminder of what?
Underneath the coffee is a printout, a short piece with a familiar title?—
Oh.
I’m glad it’s too early for Bianca to be here because it’s impossible to keep my head from snapping toward Sterling’s desk.He isn’t there.
I stare back down at the article in my hand.My article, from college.The one I submitted with my application.How did he get this?
My heart races as the elevator opens, the chime calling out across the rarely quiet floor.Tim saunters out, yawning large and loud as he complains about the time.Missy is behind him, rolling her eyes behind his back even though her headphones are blaring her usual angry rock—some variation of a band no one’s ever heard of.
I slip the article into my bag.I trust my coworkers about as much as Andy enjoys women’s sports.He really is the most disappointing cliché.
My twin coffees stare back at me while I boot up my laptop.Tasting the one Sterling got me, I have to bite back a moan.It’s incredible.
His desk is still empty.There aren’t many hiding places on the floor, so I take an educated guess and make my way into the break room with his gift.
Even surrounded by printed reminders toWash Your Own Dishes!andTake Your Tupperware Home or Lose It Forever, Sterling is impressive.
I wonder if he owns anything that isn’t black.He looks fantastic, those shoulders and his thighs—sorry, he looks very professional and not at all like someone I want backing me into a dark corner, kissing me until I can’t breathe.
Either.Both.I’m not choosy.
I clear my throat, and he turns his head, acknowledging me.
“Good morning, Mia.”
I think my heart just stopped.
“Morning,” I manage, and it sounds as breathless as I feel.Remembering Alice’s advice, I step farther into the room.“How is your research coming along?You were still here when I left last night.”
He’s standing by the coffee machine, confusing me—because didn’t he stop for coffee when he picked up mine?I watch his gaze drop to the cup I’m grasping in both hands, and maybe I’m imagining it, but I think he’s smiling.
Sterling Ross.
Smiling.
I’m definitely being pranked.
Sterling sighs over the grind of the machine.“It’s frustrating.I’m finding what I want, but not what I need, if that makes sense.”
Not really, but I’m still shocked he’s talking to me, so I nod.
“Look, I want to apologize for yesterday?—”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that?—”
“Yes, I do.I shouldn’t have pressured you?—”
“Pressured me?What?No, you didn’t?—”
“Mia.”His commanding use of my name shuts me up.“I’m sorry.”
It’s clear this means a lot to him.Sterling is a man of his word.Words he has used to great effect.Words he is now blessing me with.
I’ve never had an apology give me goose bumps before.“You’re forgiven.”
