One more inhale, and I’m at the elevator. It dings, and I cram myself inside with about ten other people. It stops a few times before reaching the twelfth floor.

I head straight to the granite desk, smiling at the same blonde receptionist who was working the other day. “Good morning, Lila. Are you ready to begin?”

I’m taken back. She remembers my name. Who does that? “Yes.” I pause, looking at her nameplate. “Ms. Dwyer, I am.”

She motions to the waiting area with a bright smile. “Call me Jane. Take a seat. Someone will be out in just a minute to get you.”

I do as she says, setting my breakfast on the table so I can pull off my jacket. I want to look ready to work when they come out to get me.

“Here, let me take that.” I turn around, seeing Jane behind me with her hands extended.

“Oh, thank you.”

She walks to a hidden closet, wrapping my coat around a hanger. “When you’re ready to go, it’ll be in here.”

I nod, taking a seat in one of the leather waiting chairs. I cross my legs and nervously clasp my hands in my lap. A few people whiz by without giving me a second glance. It’s torture—being shut inside a box with a bunch of strangers.

“Lila.” My eyes shoot up, taking in the view of Pierce Stanley in a charcoal suit and black tie. His suits obviously don’t come off the rack; they’re made to fit every part of his strong body.

“Hi,” I reply, standing on unstable knees to offer him my hand.

He obliges, enveloping my small hand in his. “Follow me to my office. I have a few things I want to go over, and then I’ll hand you over to human resources.”

As I follow, I can’t help but wonder if he meets with all of his new employees on their first day. It doesn’t seem a guy like him would have the time.

He ushers me into the same oversized office he’d interviewed me in. “Have a seat,” he says, rounding to the other side of his mahogany desk. “How was your weekend?”

My vision fills with a naked Blake, and my cheeks burn red. “It was good. How was yours?”

He chuckles, deep and throaty. “Not too exciting, but I’m hoping this one will be better.”

“Big plans?”

“Actually, Lila, I was hoping you’d accompany me to a benefit. There will be lots of people from our industry you can mingle with. Networking is an important part of the big picture.”

I was expecting a ‘Welcome to the company’ or something along those lines. “Isn’t fraternization against company policy?”

His lips curl as he leans across his desk. “Not necessarily. Besides, it’s a business meeting, not a date.”

My cheeks flush, the product of being caught jumping to conclusions. I’ve spent time with Pierce. I know we can carry a conversation, but this is a lot to take in on your first day of work. Besides, there’s this whole thing with Blake. It’s not exclusive, and he doesn’t have any hold on me . . . it just feels weird. “Okay,” I finally answer.

“Good, my car will pick you up at seven-thirty. Leave your address with Jane, please.”

“Is there anything else, Mr. Stanley?”

He smiles. “Yeah, call me Pierce.”

I smile back; his is contagious. “Anything else, Pierce?”

“No, I’m leaving for New York, but have a nice week, and I’ll see you Saturday.”

I nod, standing from my chair. “Thank you. You too.”

When my hand curves around the doorknob, I look back one more time and see Pierce staring—actually, more like drinking me in. I do what I’m good at when things get uncomfortable . . . run. Too much intensity. Too much risk.

The rest of my day isn’t quite as interesting as the first few minutes. It’s filled with paperwork and boring videos, thinking about Pierce and replaying his words every chance I get. By the time five o’clock hits, I’m more than happy to walk out the door, but I take my thoughts of Pierce with me.

AS I SLIDE MY TIRED, achy body into the warm bath water, all I can think about is how I’m going to hold two jobs. One day at Stanley and I’m wiped. Just thinking about going from there to Charlie’s two nights a week exhausts me.

The lavender bubbles cover my breasts as I lay back against the porcelain claw foot tub. I’ve wanted to sink into it since I moved here, and now with Blake gone, I need a distraction.

He said he’d be home this afternoon, and even though I have no claim to him, I’ve been worried. I wanted to text him, but that’s not possible since I don’t have his cell phone number. What kind of person does that make me? I fucked a guy—twice—and I don’t know his number, his middle name, or much of anything about him besides what he likes for breakfast and that he can be a pain in the ass.

Closing my eyes, I seek my happy place—wherever that is. It’s been buried underground for the past few months, but I’ll find it again. I have to.

Human resources promised I’d get to do some actual work tomorrow. That should help—get me back in my element and meet the people I’ll be working with. I just hope my apprenticeship means more than professional coffee fetcher and copy runner.

I sink down a little further, covering my bare shoulders with the fragrant bubbles. This is definitely the beginning of my rainbow.

Just when I’m finally settled in, I hear the faint sound of the door clicking and pry my eyes open. Footsteps follow, then silence again. “Lila!” Blake yells.

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Bathroom.”

More footsteps, then the bathroom door swings open. He walks in looking exhausted—dark circles, blood shot eyes—and leans back against the vanity. His jeans are covered in colorful paint stains, and his red flannel is unbuttoned, showcasing an old Nirvana T-shirt. Even with all that, desire pools between my legs. I adjust my position in an attempt to chase it away, but that only makes it worse. It’s been two days, almost three, since he’s been inside me. I thought it was okay, that I had absolutely no attachment to him, but my body remembers exactly what he’s capable of.

“You’re home,” I finally say, unable to find any other words.

He rubs his palm against his forehead, staring down at my covered body. “It’s been a long day. I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

I narrow in on him. He’s not acting like himself—no snide comments or teasing. I don’t like it. “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” he answers, connecting his eyes with mine. They’re a window to something much darker. I don’t know him all that well, but I don’t need to in order to recognize it.

This is new territory for me because if Blake were mine—really mine—I’d pull him in my arms and hold him tight until all the darkness disappeared. There has to be another way to make this better.

“Do you want to join me?” My voice shakes. Sharing a bath seems so intimate, but I can’t watch him stand there like that for much longer.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he assesses the bubbles again. I close my eyes because I can’t watch. One more second of this and I’ll be climbing out of this tub and wrapping myself around him.

“I can’t,” he murmurs right before the door opens and closes again.

Without any way to argue, I sag even deeper into the water. My chest tightens as I realize that I want to know more about him. I want to know what made him the way he is, why his moods shift like the blade of a windmill.

When my skin prunes, I grab a towel from the hook and climb out. It appears the only way I’m going to make this day better is to climb into my nice warm bed and drift off to dreamland.

I pull on a light blue camisole and matching pajama pants and run through my nightly bedtime routine before falling onto the pillow top bed.

Sleep doesn’t come as easily as I’d hoped. I’m tired, I feel it in every single muscle in my body, but my brain won’t shut off. It shifts from work to Blake then starts the cycle over again.