I can’t because something is happening to me.
It’s in his eyes, I think. Dark and steady and fixed straight ahead, like the photographer caught him deciding whether or not this was worth his time. High cheekbones. A hard, clean jaw with a shadow of stubble. A mouth that doesn’t smile for the camera because it doesn’t have to.
He looks rich and bored and also faintly dangerous, like the kind of man that could pick you out of a crowd, decide he wants you, and just take you home and eat you up because he was hungry.
And low in my belly, somewhere deep I’ve never paid much attention to, something tightens.
Wow. Oh, okay. That’s new.
Is this a kink I have that I didn’t even know about until now? Dangerous-looking men?
I’m blushing even harder than her makeup now.
I shift on the couch, my thighs pressing together without even asking. Heat crawls up my throat—a heat so hot even ice water couldn’t cool it.
This is absurd. It’s just a photograph. A man like that has women like Cassi orbiting him in mini-skirts every day of his life. And even then, he probably doesn’t even bother to learn their names.
He wouldneverlearn mine.
Men don’t see you, Hazel. They look right through you.
“Um, hello?” Cassi waves a hand in front of my face. “Did you short-circuit?”
“No,” I reply. My voice comes out squished and wrong. I clear my throat. “And I’m applying because I need the money!”
“That’s true.” She’s grinning at me. “But you’re also drooling over that guy’s photo.”
I’m not drooling. I’m all warm inside. There’s a big difference…
…I think.
I click submit before she talks me out of it. The page blinks, and Dominic Blackwood vanishes, leaving me feeling strangely hollow.
Get a grip. He’s a stranger who runs a hedge fund. And you’re never going to hear from him.
“You have zero qualifications for that job,” Cassi says cheerfully, going back to her makeup.
“Yeah, well I need money.”
She points her mascara wand at me like a mini sword. “That’s a big red flag, babe.”
“You wanna pay my rent for me?”
Cassi frowns. But it’s not like I was really asking.
My folks got divorced when I was twelve. Mom works constantly but doesn’t have anything to spare. And my dad remarried and started another family on the other side of the country. He sends the occasional fifty bucks, which I obviously appreciate, but it’s not enough to make a dent in what I owe.
I go to the cramped kitchen and make tea. Ginger-orange for her and a regular green for me. She takes hers with a queenly nod specifically designed to make me roll my eyes.
She looks like a million bucks, and I look like I haven’t left my apartment in three days. But that’s basically how our friendship is. She shines, and I fade into the shadow behind her. But you know what? I’m fine with it.
I’m nineteen, and I’ve never had a boyfriend. And I’m fine with that too.
The right man is coming. He just hasn’t noticed me yet.
I raise my cup to my lips to take a sip. But before I can, my phone dings, signaling I’ve just received an e-mail. Cassi raises an eyebrow. “You got hired?”
“Yeah, right,” I reply, brushing her off as I open it. “Probably somebody telling me to look somewhere else—”
