Amy:Was he bringing up sex just randomly?
Ivy:A bit.
Grace:He definitely brought you there to fuck you.
Grace:I told you. He’s offering himself up to be your stress-relief valve.
Grace:Some of us need to experience sex through other people’s hookups please and thank you!
Elsie:Can we please not. The check just cleared, and our business is finally in the black. No sleeping with clients!
Sophie:I’m going to bake you a special cake for showing such self-restraint, Ivy. Good girl!
What if I don’t want to be a good girl? Maybe I want to be Evan’s bad girl.
The thought of Evan fucking me in that one-of-a-kind penthouse was enough to keep me tossing and turning all night, which was not going to work, because I needed to be on my A-game to deal with Imogen the next day.
* * *
He probably doesn’t even wantyou. He was just trying to push your buttons.
Yes, and I wanted him to push another button… with his tongue.
“Get it together,” I whispered to myself as the Uber parked in front of Evan’s condo.
I picked up one of the boxes and shimmied backward out of the car, dragging it with me over the seat. Then my ass bumped into something hard and a bit bulgy. I stood straight up, or tried to anyway, and ended up banging my head on the car door frame.
“Ow!” I yelped and started to sink down to the pavement. A pair of strong arms caught me.
“I knew I’d eventually have you fainting at my feet,” Evan’s familiar deep voice said.
“It’s only because you startled me,” I said crossly. “Why are you even out here?”
“To help you.”
Evan was still holding me in his arms. I should have pushed him away, but I didn’t.
“Don’t you have people to do that sort of thing?” I asked, reaching up to rub my head. Evan leaned over and pressed his lips to the top of my head. I felt a bloom of warmth.
“I’m still trying to impress you with my entrepreneurial spirit.” He released me and picked up the heavy boxes. His biceps bulged under his suit jacket.
Bet you wish you’d slept with him.
It wasn’t as if he’d offered though. I chewed on my lip in the elevator, trying to read Evan’s mind and figure out what exactly his intentions were.
When we walked into his condo, however, I wished I had instead thought about how to handle Imogen. She was standing next to the long wooden table that separated the kitchen from the living area and tapping her foot.
“We’re going to need to have a more productive meeting today,” she said, blinking rapidly. “Gift bags are important. People are going to be Instagramming them, and they’re the last memory guests will have of my wedding. We want to leave a good impression.”
She took a sip of her tea as Evan slid the box onto the table. Mika hovered behind me as Imogen tapped her tablet to pull up the spreadsheet.
“She is on a twenty-four-hour lemon tea diet,” Mika whispered to me. “She’s especially angry today.”
“I looked through the bags and the notes,” I assured Imogen. “And I have several ideas for the gift bags.”
Teddy was slouched at the table, staring at his phone. Camilla stood beside her cousin. She sidled up to Evan when she saw him and slid her arm up his sleeve. I expected him to jerk away, but he just… stood there.
Evan is not your concern. Stop looking at him!
