a gulp.
"I didn't do it." He spread his hands in a show of innocence. "But this is a business party for professionals." He bit the side of his cheek to keep from grinning. "I don't know if you want to go around flashing a red light on your chest like you're trying to be Rudolph in drag."
"Damn it." She yanked the sweater up over her head. "There. Are you happy?"
Oh, yeah, he was. For a second he'd had a perfect view while the sweater covered her face. The white turtleneck hugged her curves exactly like he wanted to. But, by the time she'd shaken out her hair, passed a hand over her neat hairstyle, and folded the sweater onto her arm, he had his eyes fixed firmly on her face.
"I could comment on the granny pants," he murmured, just to see her eyes flash, "but I'll just pray I'm never confronted with them again." He touched her arm. "Let me introduce you to some of the executives."
Amanda had no choice but to go with Logan and suffer through the introductions. She had to meet the staff if she wanted to succeed at this job. But she regretted the outfit she'd chosen. What had seemed inspired in the safety of her apartment was absurd at this elegant party. The other attendees had dressed in festive Christmas attire, with shimmering silks, subtle glitter and snappy shoes all showing up her—she had to admit it—appropriately named, granny outfit. She'd be lucky to make a good impression on anyone tonight.
Logan introduced her to several people, all of whom were polite. Except for one woman, a blonde who would have been pretty if she didn't seem to have a permanent sneer on her face. Amanda recognized her as the woman who'd been gossiping with Rosie when Amanda had arrived for her first interview.
Logan introduced her as Phoebe Cattus.
"Director of Entrepreneurial Services?" Phoebe lifted her thin eyebrows. "That's a new name for an old job."
"You're right," Logan said so smoothly that Amanda wasn't sure if he'd heard the snide undertone. "I'm excited about the new opportunities Amanda can discover for the company."
"We all know what excites you, Logan." Phoebe lowered her eyelashes in an unmistakable invitation.
"I hope you do." There was an edge to his voice now. "Hard work and dedication."
He grasped Amanda's arm above her elbow to steer her away. She managed to step aside without being too obvious. His warm hand was too alluring, and she had no intention of allowing him any familiarity.
"Sorry about Phoebe," he murmured. "She has her good points, but she wasn't showing them off just then."
"Good points?" She shot him a look. "Am I going to run into your jealous exes all over the place?"
"Exes?" He raised an eyebrow. "Phoebe is an employee. As far as exes go, no, you won't run into them. When it's over, it's over."
She shivered. That sounded too much like a warning.
"Hey." Rosie walked up, her gold velvet dress looking medieval, with its crossed corset bodice and deep cleavage. "I see you met the company sniper."
"Sniper?"
"Verbal shots, but they're usually dead on target. She's dubbed me the Fashion Maven of the Homeless."
Amanda almost giggled, even as she cringed. "You look fabulous." She did, too, because the fitted dress emphasized Rosie's hourglass shape. Rosie had an ability to take unusual, even odd, ideas, and craft them into an appealing look.
Rosie grinned. "I like it, and that's what counts." She moved closer and spoke in a low voice. "More on the sniper, later."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Rosie." Amanda turned to Logan. "Speaking of which, tomorrow's a work day." She hoped she sounded like a good employee rather than a boring nerd. "The party has been fun. Thank you."
"I'll see you home." His face revealed nothing, as Rosie melted away.
"That's not necessary."
He shrugged. "It's time for me to go. They can't have fun with the boss around."
"That's up to you. I'll be fine going home alone."
He raised his brows in silent mockery. "Are you afraid I'll make a pass at you?"
"Afraid? Not likely."
He grinned. "Good instincts."
There was an ambiguous answer.
She lifted her chin. "I'll walk out with you. But that's it."
"Excellent." He touched the small of her back once more as they made their way out to the coat check. He held out his hand, but Amanda gave her claim check directly to the tired-looking woman behind the table. Then she dug in her wallet for a tip.
Logan placed a hand on her forearm. "Allow me."
The woman