I tuck a few behind my ear when I feel a sudden touch on my back.
“Holy shit.” I jump.
Karina backs up. “Sorry.”
I close the boardroom doors. “Think you might want to give me a heads-up before you scare me shitless? There’s a really important deposition going down and I don’t want to interrupt.”
My newest colleague crosses her arms. “Of course you don’t. All that delicious-looking David…and one Violet. Must be tough…being around such a fuckable man.”
I shrug, walking past her. “You act like it’s my fault the firm hired a good-looking guy.”
“Just because he’s good-looking doesn’t mean you have to get his coffee. You’re a junior partner, for crying out loud.”
“Key word: junior. And I’d like to be senior someday.”
“You won’t. If David sees you as his coffee girl.”
I groan, leaning my head back. “I’m just trying to be nice. Any other advice you want to throw to the tired junior partner, two inches from diving out the window?”
“Yeah,” she says, standing. “Stop ogling the man and get your own.” She points at the boardroom’s floor-to-ceiling windows. “I can see through glass, you know.” She grins. She grabs a brown paper bag I hadn’t seen until just now, sneaking into another boardroom without making a sound.
My fingertips are running hot and cold from the drinks, and so are my emotions. I stalk into the main floor’s kitchenette where I find myself leaning against the counter.
It’s been a hell of a day. Made more hell-ish by the office shipments that never arrived and my faulty computer keyboard. Not to mention the night classes that have been wreaking havoc on my nerves or the fact that my job has made any sort of dating life almost impossible.
I stood up another Internet date again last night.
And even after my several attempts at apologies, he practically shrugged off my texts, giving me the virtual cold shoulder.
I sigh, stirring up my own cup of now-cold coffee.
Yup. I was going to be sex-less for another year.
I tap the stirring spoon against the edge of my coffee cup when I feel a tap on my lower back. Actually, less like a tap. More like a caress.
I turn.
“Well, hello, Violet.”
Fuck, I hate the way he says my name, as it were a dirty word. Every time Steven Randall comes around, I feel the need to fall out of my skin and replace it with a new one. Anything to get his touch off me. Our local delivery man is a creep if I ever saw one, and the last person I want to see so early in the morning. I step away from his touch.
“And goodbye, Steven.” I grab my coffee.
“Wait, wait,” he says, blocking my path. “Leaving so soon? You just got here.”
“I’ve been here since five o’clock this morning. And I’m no good to anybody until my tenth fix of caffeine so if you’ll excuse me…”
He steps in front of me again, and I want to splash my cold drink in his face. If I didn’t want the coffee so bad, I would have faked tripping, just to toss it into his lap.
But I wasn’t lying. I need the caffeine. If I’m going to survive another day of that high-stress position that sometimes I think I would only wish on the bitterest of bimbos that went to high school with me.
Being one of the few female lawyers at my firm is no easy feat. And neither is keeping my cool while Steven tries to stop my escape.
Why was it always the shitty guys who liked to pretend they had the biggest balls?
From the way he swaggered through the halls, you’d think Steven owned the place. Contrary to what I’d seen earlier with David, Steven’s lack of bulge in his too-tight overalls is a tell-tale sign that he’s not the boss of anything, and I consider commenting about it when he pipes up again.
“There are other pick-me-ups besides caffeine, you know…” He smiles knowingly.
“None that I care to talk about.” I reach back for a second tray of filled coffee cups. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
I can see the word “No” forming on his lips, but then someone grabs me. A female someone. Cold brown liquid goes splashing sideways, and I curse as a wave of caramel macchiato goes flying out of my hands and towards the table. “Shit!” I scream out loud. “Dammit, Emily.”
“Sorry,” she yelps quickly, though she looks anything but. “We’ve got an emergency on our hands.”
“What?” I snap. “Did David or someone else not receive enough whipped cream on their frappe-whatever or something?”
She shakes her head. “No. We have a visitor. Boy, do we have a visitor.”
From the way she spits out the words, I can tell she’s in shock. Her eyes widen with nervousness…or maybe it’s excitement. I can’t tell.
I take a deep breath, my chest literally heaving. “And?”
“Problem is,” she interrupts, “he has no identification, no appointment. He wants to come on the floor. But I can’t let him. Not without ID. Not dressed so casually, in an outfit tight enough to make my tongue twist ten different ways.”
I sigh, setting the rest of the coffee cups down. “Why don’t you just tell him ‘no’?
She gapes as if I asked her to strip naked and do the Hokey-Pokey. “Are you nuts?” She glances over her shoulder, lowering her voice. “He is way too fucking hot for me to make out my name, let alone the word ‘no’ to.” She grabs for me again. “Come on. You need to see this for yourself.”
And just like that, I was stolen from Steven’s grasp. Saved…by the scatterbrained secretary. But I have to admit: I am curious.
Emily’s fingers are still wrapped around my wrist, and as she pulls me into the front lobby to meet the strange man, I turn the corner, feeling as if I’ve walked smack-dab into a wall. The stranger that stands there, suited in a white button-down shirt and black slacks, is debonair, despite the flakes of snow on his broad shoulders, and though he looks annoyingly heavenly, his brown hair slightly mussed, I know better than most…that the man standing before us both is the devil.
I place my hands behind my back, holding them there, my fingers interlocked…and every single one of them shaking. He glances over at me, ignoring Emily completely, his smile wicked and wide—showing everything I hate about him.
Heath Sparrow.
My heart almost stops at the sight of him, and suddenly I’m forgetting all about my hot-as-hell boss, all of my focus going to him. I swallow.
“Hi, Violet,” he says quietly to me, his voice smoother than silk. “Bet you never thought you’d see me so soon.”
Dammit. I rotate towards Emily, trying to prevent my heart from beating out my chest. I take a deep breath. “It’s okay, Emily. He’s a…friend of the firm.” I swallow. “Unfortunately, for us, this isn’t fiction, and unwelcome blood-suckers can come in without an invitation after all.”
Chapter Nine
VIOLET
“What’s that slice of beef doing in a place like this?”
It’s a question I can’t even answer.
Emily glances suspiciously between us, and Heath moves on, his white long-sleeved shirt catching a hint of the sun streaming through a nearby window.