P.S. Since you weren’t up to vouch for your safety, I am walking around the streets of Chicago, shoeless.
The biggest grin is on my face right now. He’s funny and charming and hot as hell.
Looking on my nightstand, I see the pastry bag and a to-go cup. I feel like I’ve hit the jackpot with this one.
Jackpot.
My shoulders fall as I blow all the excitement out of my lungs. A jackpot is the one thing Ryan doesn’t have. I won’t lie to myself and say it doesn’t bother me. I really like him.
Fine, I know. I know nothing about him. Yet just the thought of him makes me smile, and that’s gotta count for something, right?
Running the petals of the rose across my face, I close my eyes and think of him. Dark hair, blue eyes, and a mouth that was made for loving…
Yeah, I’ve got it bad.
I get up and start to get ready. In the shower, I think of Ryan’s hands on me. As I blow out my hair, I think of his hands wrapped in it as he kissed me. When I get dressed, I think of what I should wear when I see him later tonight.
I pull out a lavender dress to match the rose. I’m being corny. And you know what? I like corny.
“Why are you smiling?” Meg asks suspiciously from her place at her desk.
“Any calls?” I ask, ignoring her peaked eyebrows from behind the thick red frames of her glasses.
“Uh, yeah.” She fumbles nervously around her desk, her brown ponytail swaying with the movement.
I start to walk to my office.
When she finds the notepad, she gets up and follows me down the hall. Holding up the notebook, she speaks quickly, “Bruce from CAA confirmed the appointment for next Thursday, Sheryl from props wants to talk to you about the budget for the summer fun demo, and Jarrod is waiting for you in your office.”
She says that last line as I open my office door and see the dark skin and lightly salt and peppered hair of the two-timing desire of my yesterday’s affection.
Jarrod rises and holds out his hands. “Heather, you’re late.”
“I know.” I walk past him and around to my desk.
Meg is still standing in the doorway.
I raise my hand and shoo her away. “That’s all.” Then, I turn my attention to Jarrod and shoo him away, too.
He feigns a hurt expression. “Baby, you’re not upset about last night, are you?”
Turning on my computer, I click the mouse, pretending to be intrigued by what is on the screen.
“Let me make it up to you.” He places a hand inside his lapel and produces a long and thin velvet box, probably containing a bracelet.
“When did you get that?” I ask.
“Does it matter?”
I look around and wonder how I was ever attracted to such a vile man. Okay, I know why I was attracted to him, but his utter lack of concern about this situation is making me cringe.
I lean back in my chair and fold my arms. “Do you keep I’m-sorry jewelry on standby?”
He steps backward and appraises me. His eyes crease. “What’s gotten into you?”
I blink a few times, trying to decide if he’s being facetious. “You were fucking Misty Waters on your desk.”
His mouth purses as his head tilts. That rise of his brows, acting like he doesn’t see the problem, makes my eyes bug out.