Office Grump An Enemies to Lovers Romance - Nicole Snow Page 0,56

I’ll rent a stretch so the whole team can go together with another driver. Enjoy Phoenix, Armstrong.”

“Aw, sweet. Thanks, Mr. Heron!” he belts out. “You’re a nice guy. I think it’s good for you to get away from Chicago.”

I glare at him. “You know better than to call me nice.”

A couple hours later, most of the team is gathered in the hotel foyer, ready to leave.

I’m decked out in a full suit, bow tie, the works. All the tailor-fit sartorial armor any knight with a tie needs to ride into battle.

The limo driver comes to the door.

“Transport is here for the Heron party,” he says.

Dave the Sales Director looks at me. “I think we’re good to go, boss.”

“Not yet. We’re waiting on Miss Bristol,” I say, watching the elevator for her arrival.

“Angie hasn’t come down yet either,” Hugo says, wearing a sweater vest that makes him look like a professor.

“Angie?” I repeat.

“Angelica Raynette,” Ruby says. “My lead designer?”

Shit. I should know my employees’ names.

“I thought Hugo was the lead,” I whisper.

“Hugo’s your creative director, Mag. Angie’s the lead on his team. Don’t worry. We’re used to you not knowing the names of the people who work for you,” Ruby says with a flippant hand wave.

Her eyes stay on mine.

“Why are you still staring?” I snap.

“No reason.” But her tone says there’s definitely a reason, even if I can’t pull it out of her.

Hugo points to the staircase. “There they are!”

Sabrina looks like a sugarplum fairy coming down the stairs. The dress hugs her body like a Siren and it sparkles in the low evening light. I wonder if she skipped the elevator on purpose to make a grander entrance.

Goddamn.

It works.

She looks so delectable my appetite surges back from taco time, but it’s nothing that can be quenched with unpronounceable, fancy snacks.

“You’re late,” I say.

She bites her bottom lip. “Sorry. Angie had to help me with my hair.”

My gaze follows the dip in her neckline. I hadn’t noticed her hair yet.

It’s carefully braided, and those braids are twisted into a neat bun with two tendrils hanging down in front of her face. How did I not notice?

It’s only after her statement when I see another woman behind her. Angie—I recognize her now from meetings—and make a note of her name.

“You guys go ahead,” I tell the others.

I walk out beside Sabrina, and when we get into the stretch, I make sure I’m beside her.

“Your tardiness was worth it. I like your hair,” I say, kicking my own dumb ass for being tongue-tied.

Right. I mean, I do like her hair.

Even though it’s the first thing out of my mouth, it’s the last thing on my mind.

She smiles wide. There’s a small dimple in her cheek I don’t think I’ve noticed before. Unfortunately, now that I’ve seen it, my dick won’t relax the rest of the night.

I swallow a bearish growl.

It’s a festive mood in the limo. Everyone’s laughing and Dave pops a complimentary champagne bottle, whetting their appetites for booze before we’re even at the formal’s bar.

Miss Bristol laughs herself red, making conversation with the others, so she probably doesn’t notice how I can’t extract my eyes from her.

It’s not fair.

I already know she’ll be the gorgeous center of the ballroom, a star wrapped in sugarplum no red-blooded man could ignore if he tried. Yet the thought of a single asshole ad exec thinking they should try their luck with her makes me want to punch something.

I’m wondering if I can squirrel her away somewhere until the party ends, without raising eyebrows, when I catch Ruby. Alert as ever, watching me, a warning in her eyes.

Shit.

Believe me, I know.

I shouldn’t be losing it, let alone in front of a friend who’s always had my back.

Even though it feels like ripping a bandage off a wound, I inch away from her so our thighs aren’t touching. So I can think without her heat, her scent, her sight burning me alive.

I strike up a conversation with Ruby about her genealogy hobby. She’s taken one of those mail-in DNA tests, and since she was adopted, it’s been one surprise after the next tracing her family tree.

I lend her a tight smile, wishing I could ever share her amusement.

When your family’s as marvelously fucked up as mine, the only shockers are bad ones.

Before I know it, we’re pulling up to the front entrance at the glitzy resort in Scottsdale hosting our event.

The ballroom looks like an old-world palace. Not the sleek, modern conference room it resembled