I perched at the edge of Lucy’s desk, fingering my earlobe as she bustled around me. Behind the curtain just feet away, David shed one suit for another. Those long fingers undoing his buttons, hard muscles too big for a dress shirt that fit afootballplayer.
I closed my eyes and heaved a deep sigh.Get it under control.
“What do you feel like?” Lucy asked.
I frowned at her. “Huh?”
“For dinner?” She lowered her voice. “There’s a great pizza spot Andrew and I usually stop at on the way to the cabin.”
“Um.” I rubbed my eyebrow. “Bill won’t want to splurge on eating out.”
“Oh, I’d hardly call it a splurge,” she said.
“Me neither,” I agreed, but I knew my husband. Bill had learned thriftiness from his parents, and he remained careful with every dollar, even though we’d never hurt for money. Especially now that he was making far more than he had in the public sector.
“I’ll convince him,” Lucy said with a firm nod.
David stepped out, closing up his dress shirt, each button swallowing a little more of his tanned chest.
“Oh, David,” Lucy said as he shrugged on the blazer. “You lookdashing.”
David straightened his shoulders in the mirror and tugged on the sleeves. His hair was like black marble, styled into a sophisticated, shiny ripple, less tousled than normal.
My throat dried. I swallowed. Our back-and-forth from lunch filtered through my head. Standing tall in the urbane tux, he looked every bit the refined gentleman.
And gentleman becomes him.
When Lucy was occupied pinning again, I glanced at David’s black American Express on the desk beside me. The invite-only card had monthly fees in the thousands.
Exactly how much do architects make?
The desk vibrated under my thighs. David’s phone lit up, and the nameBrittanybannered across the screen. He didn’t make any effort to move or see who was calling, so I didn’t mention it.Brittanydidn’t exactly sound like a pressing matter if you asked me.
“I brought snacks.” A cheery voice entered the room before Lucy’s assistant did. Kimmie backed into the office and she turned to show off a haphazard tray of items she’d clearly found around the office breakroom. “Goldfish, apples, Go-Gurt, croissants—from this morning but I think they’re still fresh . . .” Kimmie nodded as she named each thing on the tray. With a goofy smile plastered on her face, she set it on the coffee table and turned to David. She cleared her throat, trying to catch his eye in the reflection. “Um, is this all right, Mr. Dylan? Would you prefer something else? Coffee?”
“I can’t move,” he said, nodding his head down toward Lucy.
“Oh, of course—what can I bring?” Kimmie nodded enthusiastically, picking up the tray.
“No, that’s all right,” he said when she started toward him. “I’ll grab a Go-Gurt later.”
I stifled a giggle, wondering if women were always this eager around him.
“Oh.” She set it down again. “Well, if you need anything—”
“I’ll take an apple,” I said.
Kimmie motioned toward the tray on her way out the door. “All yours.”
David grinned, but silence fell over the room in her wake.
“So, Liv.” Lucy glanced at me and resumed pinning. “Do you think you’ll get the promotion? Are you nervous?”
“I’m optimistic,” I said.
“It’s my favorite time of year,” Lucy said. “Liv gets to work with all these hot guys while I live vicariously through her.” She blushed as she smiled. “Don’t tell Andrew.”
“Women, too,” I clarified.
