His voice rings out with that gravelly, sexy edge that I remember. My body immediately comes to life. He’d seduced me with that velvet tone, whispering in my ear.
Never again.
Pulling my shoulders back, I stand straighter and project a confidence I don’t totally feel. Then I take the chair across from him and cross my legs. His eyes follow the movement before dropping back to his papers, and I can’t help looking him over while he’s not paying attention.
His dark hair is finger-combed back, lacking the slick professional style he wore before. The top few buttons of his dress shirt are undone and he’s not wearing a tie. His sleeves are rolled up, and his entire persona is far from the designer-clad socialite that I remember. He’s more relaxed today, as if he’s digging in deep to this project.
I’ll be damned if he isn’t even sexier now.
“Let’s get started. Please state your name.”
“Brooklyn Moss.” I watch him, waiting for any sign of recognition, but he doesn’t even look up. The muscles in his forearm flex as he writes on the paper and a hot pang of desire hits between my legs. How can I still want him after everything that’s happened? I press my thighs tighter together. No way in hell will he see a lick of want in my eye.
“Is this address on your resume current? Los Angeles?” he asks, glancing at it.
“I have a lease here in Chicago, actually,” I tell him, and when I give him the address in Wicker Park, he writes that down before looking up at me again.
“Ms. Moss, I need to inform you that you are required to answer each question in its entirety, or you will not be considered for this…opportunity. Do you understand and agree?”
What do I have to lose?“I do.”
That gets his attention for some reason. His head snaps up, his eyes searching mine for a beat before he clears his throat and looks back at the page. I realize then that he’s following a script that dictates exactly what he’s supposed to say. Odd.
“Great. Okay. Ms. Moss, have you had any recent or past health conditions which required medication or hospitalization?”
This is unusual, but thanks to the heads-up from the brunette in the waiting room, I’m not that surprised. I roll with it. “I had my tonsils out when I was twelve, my wisdom teeth out last year. I was on painkillers, but obviously it was temporary. Not currently taking any drugs, prescription or otherwise.”
“You’re currently healthy?” he prods.
“As a horse. Do you need me to fax over the results of my last yearly physical?”
He glances up, and the brief moment of eye contact makes my pulse ratchet up another notch. “Ah, that won’t be necessary.”
He seems tense, or maybe just a little embarrassed about all these questions, and it’s hard not to smirk at the effect I’m clearly having on him with my attitude. Serves him right.
“Would you say you follow a healthy dietary and exercise regimen?” he goes on.
I shrug. “I work out most days, take classes with friends. Cardio, cycling, kickboxing. So yeah. I’m mostly vegetarian, but I never turn down bacon. Or dessert. You only live once.”
The corners of his mouth turn up, but he seems to hold back from actually smiling as he scribbles a few things down. I can’t help wishing he’d look at me, like full-on look at me. I want him to remember who I am. I’d love to see the discomfort on his face when he remembers I’m the girl he fucked and ghosted all those years ago. Well, one of them.
“Are you involved in any charities, philanthropy, or other charitable work? Clubs, missionary work, volunteering programs?”
I smile. “Not sure missionary is my thing, to be honest.”
He clears his throat. “If you wouldn’t mind just answering.”
I’m kind of loving this, but I cut him a break.
“Actually, I’ve been part of Heart and Home Chicago since high school, and even though I’ve been in LA for a few years, I’m still active on the committee. We raise funds for area homeless shelters to provide maintenance, expansion, help with the food budget, that kind of thing.”
“Hmm.” His jaw works back and forth. “How active are you, exactly?”
“Very. I took over as the committee co-chair of fundraising last year. My face and bio are on the homepage, if that helps. I also founded a new program for domestic abuse survivors who’ve had to flee their homes and need a place to go and figure out their next steps,” I say, relaxing as I warm to this topic that’s so close to my heart. “Beyond meals and shelter, we offer specialized counseling, daycare, connect them with services. It’s been amazing.”
Luka scribbles furiously, nodding as he does so. I hope it’s a good sign.
“Are you currently using birth control?”
