do anything to jeopardize that. At least, that’s what I’d told my vagina last night.
Panic danced its way down my spine. If he walked in here and demanded to see me, I didn’t trust myself to not do something stupid. It was fifty-fifty on whether I’d punch him in the face or just go straight for his zipper with eager hands.
Fortunately, salvation arrived in the form of my supervisor. Zara was hustling down the aisle between the rows of cubicles, sticky notes in one hand, Sharpie in the other. “I need a volunteer to go out and—”
“I’ll do it!” I shot out of my seat like I was spring-loaded.
Zara looked at me like the weirdo I was. “You don’t even know what the assignment is.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said desperately. “If it’s out of the building, I’ll take it. I’ll take all of the out of the building tasks.”
“It’s ten degrees and sleeting outside,” Gola said, appearing behind Zara. She looked concerned. I didn’t blame her.
“I like the cold. Love it,” I insisted. Words I’d never strung together in my entire life.
“Well, that makes my job easy,” Zara said. “I didn’t even have to bribe anyone with lunch.” She handed me six sticky notes and then snatched her hand back when I ripped them out of her grasp.
“What’s the hurry? Is there a sale at the soup kitchen?” Malina sniffed, giving my outfit a judgemental once-over.
I wasn’t head-to-toe in designer labels, but I looked good. You know, in case I accidentally ran into a certain someone who ceased to exist.
I was wearing a swingy plaid skirt over ribbed tights. Solid thrift store finds. Linus had liberated my last season thigh-high boots from “the closet” for me. My turtleneck was a leftover from my Colorado life when I’d actually had more than thirty-two dollars in the bank after bills.
Come on, Payday Gods, and smile your blessings upon my bank account.
“Mal, soup kitchens are free,” Gola sighed.
“What’s the matter, Malina? Couldn’t find any small children to kick on your way to work this morning?” Zara asked, rearranging the rest of her notes.
Malina made a hissing noise and primly returned to her chair.
I picked up the bag I’d dumped on the floor and started for the elevators. I didn’t really think Dominic would come looking for me. He was more of a summoner. But I also wasn’t willing to take that chance.
“What’s going on with you?” Gola asked, her long legs eating up the distance between us as I yanked the glass door to the elevators open. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s great,” I said. I felt the tell-tale red flush creep up my neck. I was a shit liar. “I’m great.”
She looked unconvinced. “By ‘great’ you clearly mean ‘about to lose your damn mind.’”
I frantically stabbed the down button on the elevator. Three times. “Ha! You look so pretty today,” I said.
The stairwell door opened on the far end of the hallway, and the man who didn’t exist stepped out. His eyes went straight to me.
I turned my back and stabbed the button again.
“Ally, I say this with love,” Gola said. “You need a massage and a facial.”
I could feel his gaze on me. It felt like wildfire licking its way over my skin. I had to get out. Now.
The merciful god of high-rise elevators shined his divine love upon me, and the doors opened on a dignified ding. I stepped inside, hurling my body into the already crowded car. I couldn’t afford to wait for another one.
“I’ll call you later,” I promised Gola frantically as I jabbed the close button.
Stubbornly, the doors refused to close.
Dominic was closing in, stalking toward me with murder in his eyes and—was that a fucking vest? That son of a bitch!
I let go of the button, ready to take a stance against him, against the vest. Just then, the damn doors began to slide toward each other.
His blue eyes were icy and troubled. He looked the same as he had last night, except he wasn’t, you know, violently masturbating and rasping out my name.
Was it weird that the sexiest moment of my life hadn’t actually involved having sex?
I went weak in the knees with a desire so carnal I worried I might die on the spot.
“Can I help you with something, Mr. Russo?” Gola squeaked as he charged forward.
I glared at him, channeling all of my angst and maybe a little bit of the heat emanating from my below-the-waist region through the sliver of space between the doors until they