his fingers in a Come on motion. “Keep this coming, all good stuff. Very helpful to know who I want to sleep with, and when.”
“Lincoln, shut the door,” Cassidy said.
Lincoln rolled backward, still refusing to get off the chair.
“I can’t imagine why Penelope chose me over you,” Cole muttered. “You’re so mature.”
Cassidy cleared his throat. “Our boy Cole here’s put us in a weird position by hitting on one of our colleagues. And I know you all respect Penelope as a co-worker as much as I respect her as my employee.”
Everyone nodded, even as Cole tensed for what Cassidy’s next words were going to be.
“But for the next five minutes, all discussion of Penelope Pope is as our friend, and Cole’s girlfriend—”
Cole’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not my—”
Cassidy cut him with a glance. “Save it, Sharpe. After those five minutes are up, we go back to thinking of her as co-editor of the sports section. Understood? Respectful-like.”
“Roger,” Lincoln said. “Copy that.”
“Okay, so here’s the deal,” Jake said, leaning forward. “Penelope has an, um, friend coming into town this weekend.”
Cole’s head whipped around. “What?”
How did Jake know this, and he didn’t? Also, this weekend? That was supposed to be their time to, well…get naked.
And what friend? She’d mentioned a handful of girlfriends from back in Chicago, but why would these guys care about that?
“It’s a former co-worker,” Cassidy added.
“And you knew about this too?” Cole said, unable to hold back a glare at his boss.
Lincoln spun around in a circle in his chair. “Penelope had lunch with Julie. Julie went back to the Stiletto office and filled in Grace, so Jake knows, and Emma, so Cassidy knows.”
Jake, Cassidy, and Cole all stared at Lincoln. “And how do you know this?”
“Because I was also in the Stiletto offices,” Lincoln said, as though it were obvious that he’d been hanging out in the offices of a women’s magazine.
“Explain?” Jake asked Lincoln.
“I’m hooking up with one of the girls in the Beauty department. I saw Julie and Riley whispering, and they filled me in.”
Cole scratched his nose. “You know this whole thing is fucked up, right? Jake being married to a Stiletto gal, Cassidy being almost married to one…Lincoln sleeping with everyone who’s left over…”
“Yes, well, you’re hardly one to talk about mixing relationships and the workplace,” Cassidy said. “But back to the point—”
“So there is a point?” Cole asked.
“Can I be the one to tell him?” Lincoln asked, raising his hand.
Cassidy nodded and muttered Your funeral under his breath.
“So,” Lincoln said to Cole. “Penelope’s friend is of the male variety.”
Cole froze. “Don’t tell me it’s Ivan. No, Eric. No—”
“Evan,” Jake said.
Cole felt a flash of rage followed by a stab of glee that the man who’d stolen Penelope’s job was going to be within arm’s reach so that Cole could kick his ass.
But immediately following the rush of masculine protectiveness was a surge of jealousy.
Cole thought back to his and Penelope’s first conversation about this Evan guy. It hadn’t just been about the job. She’d had feelings for him.
Back then, he’d barely known her, and hadn’t really cared.
But Cole sure as fuck cared now.
“When?” Cole ground out. “When does he get here exactly?”
“Friday,” Lincoln said. “And according to Riley, who talked to Grace, who talked to Julie, she’s freaking out about it.”
“Which is where you come in,” Jake said.
Cole gave them all a wary glance. “Am I going to like this?”
“Well, now, that depends,” Cassidy said, giving a quick study to his cuticles. “Exactly how serious were you when you said Penelope isn’t your girlfriend?”
Chapter 22
Other than meetings where they’d both been in attendance, Penelope hadn’t seen Cole all day.
She told herself it was no big deal. That it was the way things were supposed to be.
Colleagues only from Monday through Friday, remember?
But at six o’clock, just as she was loading up her laptop and preparing to head home for a quiet night with takeout and Edgar the goldfish, Cole appeared in her office doorway.
And call her crazy…but her heart flipped over.
Once. Twice. Okay, fine, her heart flipped over and over and over again for Cole Sharpe.
Crap.
But Penelope refused to take full accountability for her fluttery reaction. Cole was at least 80 percent responsible, especially when he had his suit jacket slung over his shoulder all sexy-like, looking at her with a combination of heat and affection.
“Hey!” she said.
His smile was slow and intimate. As though he knew exactly what she was thinking, and that the thoughts weren’t particularly pure. “Hey back.”
“I thought you’d