LINE danced through my head as I woke the next morning, my temples throbbing in time to the imaginary beat. Where had I left the aspirin? Looking down, I found I was fully dressed, lying in bed with the covers over me. What? How? I fought through the sludge clogging up my thoughts. Something about a restaurant? With a really hot guy in it? Horror overcame me as I pieced the jigsaw together, and I slumped back against the pillow and groaned.
I’d done it again, hadn’t I? Committed another crime against common sense. This time, I’d drunk so much I couldn’t even walk in front of my new boss. My extremely good-looking new boss who I’d known for less than a day. Way to go, Lara. No wonder Billy had always grumbled about my behaviour when we went out. I wasn’t even capable of acting like a lady on a simple lunch date.
No, not a date.
Just lunch.
I rolled over, considering whether to drag myself out of bed and get ready for work or simply die quietly. A glass of water on the nightstand caught my eye, and as I propped myself up on one elbow, I saw a bottle of painkillers next to it. And a note. A note written in an unfamiliar scrawl in black ballpoint.
Lara,
Take the Tylenol—it’ll help. When you feel better, come over and we can sort out arrangements for the next few weeks.
Nick.
Why did he have to be so nice? It made me feel even worse. How many men would bother to leave pills out like that? I couldn’t remember Billy so much as asking if I was okay in all the years I spent with him.
I hauled myself out of bed, ignoring the slosh of nausea churning around my stomach, and swallowed the pills as instructed. My arms ached as I filled the kettle. Surely an extra-strong cup of coffee and a shower would help?
“Ohhhh, fudge.”
I caught sight of myself in the cracked mirror above the tiny sink. If my reflection was to be believed, I’d spent the night with my finger stuck in an electric socket before rubbing my eyes with soot. Did the pharmacy at the end of the block sell make-up? Or possibly a replacement head? I’d bet my last dollar Emmy didn’t look a mess in the mornings. She probably woke up fresh as a daisy, all perky and ready to start the day. With Nick next to her, the lucky thing.
How upset was Nick going to be with me about my little performance yesterday? I’d hardly created a good impression, had I? Next time, I’d make triple sure to limit myself to one glass of wine, a small portion of something healthy for my main course, and no dessert. Actually, who was I kidding? It was highly unlikely there’d be a next time.
Once I’d got dressed in my black housekeeping dress and put together a hasty lunch to eat at work, I felt halfway human again, helped in no small part by the Tylenol and caffeine. It was almost midday when I got to Nick’s, but at least I’d still be in time to make him some food.
I got to the door, key in hand, then hesitated. Probably I shouldn’t let myself in if he was home. I’d feel like an intruder, and we’d already had that whole discussion at gunpoint two days ago. I reached out and rang the bell instead, hearing it echo inside the house as I fidgeted on the top step. A few minutes ticked by with no answer. Had Nick gone out? I looked back at the shiny black car parked behind me in the driveway—a Porsche, the writing on the back told me. A silver badge with the words 911 turbo gleamed beneath the rear spoiler. No, Nick was definitely in.
I was debating whether to risk unlocking the door when it swung open. Holy hell! Nick’s tanned body greeted me in all its glory, and the only barrier between me and the best bits was a fluffy white towel wrapped around his hips. I watched, frozen, as a bead of water dripped from his hair and rolled down his torso, skating over his pecs and leaving a wet trail on his sculpted six-pack before it disappeared. Or maybe it was an eight-pack. I was just trying to count when Nick’s voice interrupted me.
“Did you lose your key?”
“What?” I snapped my eyes up to his face and saw the corner of his mouth curve into