Page 79 of Pure Abandon

Asher places his hand on mine, and the waitress frowns.

That’s right. He’s mine!

Wait, what? Looking down at our hands, I realize he’s merely getting my attention.

“Let’s have Sex on the Beach,” Asher says haughtily.

My head leaps up. “What?”

His husky laugh penetrates my body. “To drink. Let’s have two Sex on the Beach drinks. Though I like where your head’s at.”

I nod to the waitress, confirming that’s what we’ll have, and she scurries off.

“You’re incorrigible!” I take my hand back.

“God, I love spending time with you.” His smile eases me. “Don’t get mad at me, but I’m going to say something and I have no apologies for saying it.”

I raise my eyebrows in curiosity.

“You look fucking hot in that bikini.”

I am beyond taken aback that my boss thinks I’m hot. Especially since he’s this beautiful, successful, giving man who teaches music to underprivileged kids yet has time to run a multimillion-dollar corporation.

“Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.” I try not give away too much. I want to lick the sweat off his chest, but that would be entirely inappropriate.

Jesus Christ, what is wrong with me?

“I’m glad you approve. And I have to thank the woman who picked out that suit for you. Did you have any trouble with the sizes?”

“Her name is Avalyn, and I’ve already made a mental note to thank her. And, yes, the sizes are perfect. How did you know?”

“Years of practice, I guess,” he says as the waitress quickly returns with our drinks. “Come on, let’s get drunk!”

I lift my files from my lap and hold them in front of his face.

“Work first,” I reprimand.

He lets out a deep laugh. “Yes. I want to hear all the ideas you have in that pretty little head of yours.”

Asher walks us over to a private cabana where we can sit at a table and get some actual work done. It’s beyond bizarre conducting business in a bikini, but when in Rome…

Thankfully, Asher has put his shirt back on and grimaces at my paperwork, confused as to why I’m working without a computer like a Neanderthal. His words, not mine.

I’m pleasantly surprised he likes most of what I’ve completed. If he’s disappointed that I don’t have some things in the final stages, he doesn’t let on. Not surprisingly, he has a few good suggestions of his own. I write them all down with pure anticipation. This concert is going to rock!

When we’re finished, Asher has our private concierge deliver a special meal from Mr. Chow. We spend the rest of the early evening eating sushi, drinking saki, and talking about how we made our respected careers. My career path is shorter and not as exciting, so my contribution to the conversation is short.

The sun starts to set as he tells me about interning at his grandfather’s insistence and learning about buying companies and rebuilding them. I was shocked to learn his first business venture was more about impressing a girl than it was about making money.

“Candy.”

“Candy? Was she a stripper?”

Asher laughs. “No, she was not a stripper.”

“Was she a candy striper?”

“No! She was not a candy striper.” He laughed. “What is it with you trying to ruin the story of my first love?”