The line is ridiculous, but I finally get up to order Mr. Bradshaw’s coffee and myself a skinny vanilla latte.
Once I get back to the Bradshaw Enterprises building, I step onto the elevator with a gorgeous, tall woman in a sleek, knee-length white dress. She could be a shampoo-commercial modelwith her shiny mahogany hair. Her perfect face is focused ahead like I’m not even here.
“Fifty-six,” I tell her since my hands are clearly full.
The button has already been pushed. We ride to the top in complete silence.
Once we reach our floor, her steps are quick and purposeful, like she’s on a mission.
Yikes, someone’s in trouble.
Right before the last corner leading into Mr. Bradshaw’s office, she stops abruptly. I nearly crash into her flawless white backside with the coffees.
“Shit,” I curse under my breath, swinging around her just in time.
I pass by her, glancing back to see that her eyes are closed as she takes several slow, steady breaths.
Is she okay?
I almost stop to ask her if she needs help finding someone, but considering it’s only my second day on the job, I doubt I’d be of any assistance.
After setting my to-go cup on my desk, I knock on Mr. Bradshaw’s door.
“Come in.”
I push down on the handle, entering with his espresso drink in my hand. He looks up at me, watching as I walk toward his desk.
Don’t look away. It shows weakness.
I square my shoulders back, setting my jaw as I get closer, and hand him the warm cup. Our fingers brush, but I reject the electric jolt that shoots through me at the contact.
“Thank you,” he says.
Don’t think about him on top of you, groaning with that deep voice. Do. Not. Think. About. It.
I nod before turning to walk out, feeling his gaze burning into me the whole way. After shutting the door behind me, I collapse at my desk. My knees are weak from that tiny little exchange. I can no longer deny that I want the boss man, even with him pretending like we haven’t already been intimate together.
The stunning brunette from the elevator waltzes past my desk just then, straight for his door.
“Umm, Miss?—”
She ignores me, turning the handle and heading right into his office. I stand up, completely at a loss for how to handle the situation.
“Fallon, what a nice surprise,” I hear him say, and my heart drops into my stomach.
“Is it, Luke? Is it anice surpriseto see me here?”
The door slams right after I hear her cold response.
My mouth is wide open, my eyebrows raised to my hairline in shock.
Okay, okay . . . deep, calming breaths . . .
After twenty minutes, which feels more like three hours, I finally find the courage to creep up to the door. I press my ear to it, but all I can make out is mumbling. None of the words are intelligible.
I slowly retreat to my desk, perching myself on the edge of the office chair while I study the door as if my gaze could suddenly increase my hearing ability.
An eternity later, I’ve straightened every stray paper in the vicinity. I really have to pee after downing the latte, but I can’t leave my post and miss her coming out.
