5
Savannah
Of all the fucking jobs in the entire city of New York, my dream job had to be forhiscompany. Seriously? Does the universe hate me that much? I can’t do this. I can’t work for the man that I’ve spent the last few weeks fantasizing about every night. Holy crap on a cracker, he looks even better in a suit than he does in swimming trunks.
“Relax, I’m not going to bite…unless you ask me to.” He sounds calm, teasing even, but there’s an underlying energy behind his words. One filled with lust, excitement, and anticipation. He’s leaning against the back wall of the elevator, one foot crossed in front of the other, appearing as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened.
I guess seeing me outside of the pool isn’t as big a deal to him as it is to me.
Meanwhile, I’m over here trying not to hyperventilate, and questioning whether I can actually accept this job. I’m stuck in an elevator that is moving far too slow for my liking, and he’s looking at me like I’m some luxurious dessert he wants to eat. Words fail me. I can’t form a sentence. I shiver, then straighten my spine. Nope, this can’t happen. I will not jeopardize this paycheck for a sexy body.
“We need to keep this professional, Mr. Devlin,” I croak. I clear my throat, and continue, hoping he won’t make this any more awkward than it already is. “I want this job, so if I need to, I’ll find another pool to swim. Or I’ll go at a different time. Whatever it takes. Just, please…” I trail off.
His face has softened, but he’s still staring at me with far too much interest in his eyes. And then he smirks.
“Please…what, Savannah?”
“Please pretend that we don’t know each other. I’ll forget what Ifeltthis morning, and you’ll forget you’ve ever seen me in a bathing suit.” My voice falters at the end, but I force myself to meet his eyes. They burn, and the heat coming from those oceanic depths makes my panties wet in an instant.
“Savannah, stop,” he commands, and goddamn it, my body wilts under the power of that one word.
He moves in closer to me, crowding me against the back wall of the elevator. How long does it take to go down thirty-six floors, anyway? And why the heck hasn’t anyone else gotten on to save me?
“I most certainly willnoterase the image of you in a bathing suit from my mind. That’s the kind of thing a man doesn’t easily forget.”
“Well, I’ve already forgotten the feel of yoursituationthis morning,” I fire back, knowing it’s a blatant lie.
Alex’s hands come up to frame my head on the wall of the elevator. Oh God, is he going to kiss me? No. He can’t.
He slowly leans in so that his hips are lined up with mine, and his rigid outline is pressing into me, obvious even through his pants and my skirt. I bite my lips to keep my moan inside.
“I think you’re lying, love. But you keep telling yourself that.”
Finally, after what felt like the longest elevator ride of my entire goddamn life, the doors open on the main floor. Alex steps back and straightens his tie, but as I walk out, I can’t seem to help myself from looking back. And he winks. Again.
Goddamn that wink.
After the interaction with Alex in the elevator, I’m filled with a restless energy, like I’ve had a few too many cups of espresso. I know one place that will soothe my nerves, and my feet lead me there automatically.
Standing outside the shelter on West Twenty-First Street, I look up at Forever Grey with a smile, and my stress starts to melt away. This is my favorite job. I’ve always loved dogs; my parents rescued many when I was a kid. There was always at least one or two running around the house with me; they were my best friends. When the job posting for the shelter showed up weeks before I moved to New York, I knew it was meant to be. My boss, Suzette, is amazing, and lets me balance working from home with working in her office at the shelter when she’s not in. And I have unlimited access to the dogs, so I can shower all my affection on them, knowing I’m doing a small part of what’s necessary to give these retired greyhounds a new lease on life. They’re beautiful, gentle creatures, and all they want is love.
I push open the doors, and my friend Carlene glances up at me from behind the front counter.
“Hey, Vanny girl! Here to see Molly?”
I nod eagerly. “Yeah, I’m in need of a good long walk.”
Carlene’s eyes scan me with a dubious expression on her face. “Dressed like that? I know this is Manhattan, but…”
Shit. I somehow forgot the fact that I’m dressed for a business meeting, not a walk in the park. My shoes aren’t that high of a heel, but they also are not designed for dog walking.
“Crap.”
“Don’t worry, I got your back.” Carlene bends down and grabs a duffel bag from under the desk. “I always keep spare clothes here in case I get messy cleaning out the kennels.”
I take the bag from her gratefully; I really need some time with the dogs today. One of them in particular.
“Thanks, Carlene. Come over for a glass of wine later in the week and I’ll give them back?”
