And maybe to, I don’t know, download Bumble or Tinder or that one app that’s based on MBTI and pairs you with people who are compatible. Someone compatible would be nice. I just need to distract myself from the fact that whatever I’m feeling for Keegan is too close to that crush I had all those years ago.
The organizers obviously thought people might venture up here, but so far, I’m the only one.
I sigh with relief, thankful to be away from the crowd.
Except when I do, a man I hadn’t noticed before pushes away from the pergola column he was leaning against.
When he turns to face me, my breath catches.
It’s Reid Forester.
Holy shit.
Reid Forester.
Dressed in a frickin’ tux. Looking dapper and handsome and like every fantasy I’ve ever had of him. But somehow, although he looks stupidly gorgeous, my stomach doesn’t do that flip-floppy thing it usually does.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m sorry.”
Suddenly, my heart is pounding. Mostly because he scared the shit out of me when I thought I was all alone, but also because—holy shit—what are the odds that I would run into Reid on another rooftop?
It’s one thing to have the occasional sexy fantasy about your hot boss when you rarely see him and almost never talk to him at all. It’s another thing entirely now that I seem to be running into him on every rooftop in town.
What the hell am I supposed to do here?
He didn’t recognize me the other night, but that doesn’t mean he won’t today. So I just stand there mutely—my mouth probably gaping like I’m a fish—wondering what I’m supposed to say in this situation.
“Y-you didn’t.”
I say, lamely. He raises a brow and smirks, wordlessly calling me on my lie.
Damn. Why did I even say that?
Should I offer to leave, letting him have the space to himself?
After all, he was here first.
Or should I strike up casual conversation about things around the office?
I’m tempted to bring up how well the Butler presentation went, but that seems like bragging. I can feign confidence as Sasha, but I’m not ready to brag about my work performance to my boss.
Before I can decide what to do, though, Reid walks over to me. The light on the roof is dim, but I feel him studying me as he walks closer. After a second, he says, “Meg, right? From Teresa’s team?”
I blow out a breath, relieved that I don’t have to decide about whether to lie to him.
Except then, his gaze narrows slightly, and he asks, “Or is it Sasha?”
“Um ...” Oh, shit! Ohshitohshitohshitohshit! “I ... um ...”
Oh, shit!!!
After a second of my fumbling, he chuckles. “Sorry. That was mean of me. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”
Heat burning my cheeks, I press my palms to my face. Head still reeling, I half-moan, half-say, “You recognized me? Last night?”
“Yeah.” He chuckles again. “Not until after you left, though, if it makes you feel any better.”
Peering at him from over my fingertips, I shake my head. “I don’t think there’s anything about this situation that can make me feel better.” I sink into the chair from a nearby table and bury my head in my hands. “I flirted with my boss last night and didn’t tell him who I was.”
