built into the ventilation system in the wall. “What did Dickman want to talk to you about anyway?”
“Something about the supply closet being left unlocked. I kind of tuned him out after a minute.”
Carrie snorts as she comes back behind the desk. “We all do. He’s such a douchebag.” She opens a pack of gum and offers me one, but I shake my head. “Everything about this place is awesome except for him. I feel like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
“Tell me about it.” I reach into my pocket and pluck out my tube of bubble gum lip gloss and apply it while Jesse answers the phone.
“Hey, Izzy,” Carrie teases, angling her head. “Your man is here.”
“Shut up.” I laugh nervously, knowing exactly who she’s talking about. “He’s not my man.” Although I wish he was. A girl can dream. And boy, do I ever. I dream a lot about what it would be like if we were together even though there never will be an us.
She leans over the counter to peek out the front window to see him getting out of his blacked-out Escalade and fans her face dramatically. “I’m pretty sure he gets hotter every time I see him.”
She’s not lying. Damien Hill is every woman’s fantasy with his sharp jawline and coppery brown eyes that get a shade darker when he talks to me. He’s almost six and a half feet of pure muscle with slim hips and powerhouse thighs. His arms are corded, and the strength in his shoulders is clearly visible in the way they bulge and flex when he so much as lifts a pen. I haven’t seen him shirtless, but there is no doubt in my mind that he’s sporting at least a six-pack… and I’ve imagined plenty.
“Stop staring. He’s going to see you, then he’ll think we’re weird or something.” I grab Carrie by the back of her scrub top and pull her away.
“But I am staring,” she whines and pretends to pout. “I might be married, but I’m not blind.”
Jesse has finished her call, and she’s now in the back area regarding herself in a mirror, fluffing her hair and pinching her cheeks. I’d make fun of her, but I’ve done the same thing when I know I’m going to be close to him… just not when people are around to see me act like a thirsty bitch.
The outer door dings as Damien pulls it open, and then Carrie quickly backs away and shoves me closest to the side he’ll be coming to. I stumble a little bit but manage to stay upright by clutching the counter as the interior door opens. There’s no time for me to glare at her because he’s walking in.
I swallow the drool in my mouth when he smiles at me. “Izzy. Ladies.” He nods, but his burning eyes keep a hold on me.
“Hi,” I pull my shoulders back to try to display confidence, but it only looks as if I’m shoving my boobs at him. Shit. The thought I should slouch my shoulders again comes to mind, but when his attention sweeps to my chest, I decide not to. “How was your trip?”
He drags his gaze up to my face, moistens his bottom lip, and then shrugs. “Glad to be home. How was my Judy girl?” He asks with such sickening love, I’m almost jealous of his dog. No, not almost. I am jealous.
I wish he was talking all sweet about me like that, but alas, he’s not. He’s talking about his dog, which is another thing that makes him so amazing. He treats her like a princess. “She was perfect as always.” I pull up his account, and before I can even tell him the total, he’s handing over his platinum credit card. “She made a new friend this weekend.” I swipe the card through the reader and mark his invoice as paid.
His fingers close over mine when I hand him a pen, and the contact sends a chilling warmth through my entire body that I’ve never experienced and will never, ever forget. My neck involuntarily arches, only to find him watching me intently. “Yeah?” He lifts a brow and prompts when I don’t say anything else, releasing my hand, somehow managing to get the pen without me even feeling it.
I duck my head and swipe the invoice off the printer, then rip the receipt off the credit card machine. “Yeah. A little pug named Pepper.”
“Thanks, Izzy.” He hands