for you. Take your mind off things here at the office.” Monica tries to blink in Lucia’s direction without Lucia taking notice.
“Not interested.”
The phone rings and saves me from being hounded by Monica.
“Lucky—I mean, Lucia,” I correct myself at Monica’s glare, “come in and take some dictation.”
“Sir?” Lucia says. We’ve never done dictation before because we aren’t in the sixties and I’m not Don Draper. I can actually type for myself, but, dammit, I want to look at Lucia’s legs.
“Dictation. My office. Now.” Why does everything in life have to be so fucking hard?
“Yessir.” She practically salutes me.
“Wait!” Monica yells. We all freeze. She holds up a finger as she finishes her conversation. Face flushed, she hangs up the phone and then claps her hands. “Variety wants to interview you about the viral moment! This is good press. Should I say yes?”
“No.”
“It’d be good for the O’Hare image,” Monica presses.
“No.” I point to Lucia. “Office.” I jerk my head.
She hurries to her desk and then joins me. Monica tries to follow but I slam the door in her face. I’m not trying to harass anyone. I just want to look at my future wife’s legs. Is that so terrible? No, it’s not.
“Sit,” I bark as I take my own seat.
Lucia startles and then drops into the chair in front of the massive desk. My whole plan goes to shit when I realize that my view of her is only from the waist up. I can’t even see her lap. This is utter bullshit. Who designed this moronic desk anyway? It should be glass! Fuck this.
I shove out of my chair and storm around the acre of wood until I reach Lucia. She backs away as I loom down.
“I’m not touching you,” I growl. You’d think she heard I ate babies or some shit. I’m going to have to talk to Monica about this. I pick up the chair and Lucia and carry it to the side where I can see her—face, legs, lap and all. “There.”
I resettle into my seat and stare. This is perfect. In fact, this is where Lucia should sit at all times—not out in the pool with Monica and Cesar but in here with me where I can look over at her slender legs, her ugly black flats, the sack she calls clothes, her gorgeous brown hair that the sunlight kisses from the windows, and her beautiful face with those pillowy lips.
She rubs said lips together before parting them. “Did you have something you wanted me to take down?”
I heave out a sigh. “Yeah. Why haven’t you said I can call you Lucky yet?”
Chapter 10
Lucia
“You can call me Lucky if you want.”
“I do.” He leans back in his chair with a big smile on his face like he’s won some prize. I think he gets weirder by the day. Which is not working out so well for me. It only makes me watch him more.
“Okay.” I tap my pen on the top of my notepad, staring right back at him. It’s hard not to with the suit he has on. I mean, it’s so pink. It’s the same color that has been popping up all over the office recently. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I told him it was my favorite color and now I’m surrounded by it. The suit he’s sporting today tells me he will pretty much go to any lengths to get what he wants. He’s the only man I know that could pull off wearing that suit and still look hot.
“Why do people call you Lucky?”
“Why are you in a pink suit?”
“You don’t like it?” He looks down at his suit, his eyebrows pulling together. “You said you like pink,” he reminds me, making me laugh.
“I know I like pink. I’m not so sure it should cover a whole suit though. Maybe try just a tie next time. It’s hard to pull pink off sometimes.” I want to tell him the truth—that he could wear a damn sack and I’d still be attracted to him—but I don’t. I also don’t care much for all the attention the pink suit is bringing him.
“You could pull off all pink.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “I haven’t come across a pink suit that was in my price range. I’m on a budget.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Handle it?”
“I’ll get you one.”
I shake my head. “You can’t buy me a suit.”
“Why?” For the first time he actually looks offended by something I’ve said or done. Which is nuts because I’ve