“Come, now, Drea, you know that isn’t what I meant.” He was chuckling nervously. She rounded one corner of the desk, and his chair disappeared behind another. The soreness between her legs was reflecting the ache in her chest.

Honestly, Andy’s feelings had just gotten hurt, big time. That was one of the meanest things anyone had ever said to her, and she’d worked for Max Ellis, for Pete’s sake. If she were being honest, she’d say it hurt so badly because Blake was someone she was starting to care about, whereas Ellis had never mattered to her. Screw honesty, though. It was much easier to give in to her anger and cover up the hurt.

“I think you meant exactly what you said. And I also think I really missed an opportunity earlier to show you exactly how much I meant it when I told you not to cross me.” She leaned over the desk to brandish his beloved Montblanc in his stupid inside-ugly face before stuffing it down her cleavage. She was fairly certain he wouldn’t go after it there. Lunchtime was over. No fooling around during office hours after all.

“Andrea. Please. We can discuss this. May I have my pen back?” A note of desperation had crept into his voice. It gratified her just a little.

“I don’t want to discuss anything with you, Mr. Donovan. I want a sincere apology.” They stared at each other for a few moments. The silent game of chicken ended incredibly quickly when Blake stood up and strode to her. His hands gripped her upper arms as his eyes blazed into hers.

“I am sorry. I never meant to make you feel cheap, or bought in any way. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t know how to talk to you. All I know is that what just happened meant something to me. It even means more than my pen. I think. No, I know it does. I just don’t really understand how we proceed from here.”

That total butthole.

Now she couldn’t be mad even if she tried. How did he do that? It wasn’t fair at all. Just because he “never apologized”—suddenly when he did, she got “weak in the knees” like a swoony romance heroine. She wanted to scream. Who wants to be a romance heroine?

Still, his sincerity was undeniable, and so was his scrumptious scent. She pulled the pen out of her boobs. “Look. I appreciate your apology. Even though I’m not totally ready to forgive you. Us having sex? That isn’t work, that isn’t my job. That’s because we just had really good sex, and if it helps you behave on dates, even better. There will be no change in my pay, because I am not a whore. Got it?”

He stared into her eyes for a bit longer than necessary. Again. That seemed to happen between them.

“Understood.” He released her arms, which immediately grew cold without his touch. “Now, you said you had things to show me?”

“I do. Here’s your dumb pen.” She stomped away from him, easy to do in her sneakers, and sat in her seat. “Slide your chair this way, will you? We’re working from my desk today.”

She waited until he was sitting across from her before she pointed at him with the end of her Bic pen. “I’m still charging you for a new pair of Prada heels, by the way.” She let that sink in. “So, with Lia, I think there might be a couple of issues, but she’s prettier than Alice…”

They started flipping through the stack of folders on her desk, both of them studiously ignoring any topic that hinted at their earlier frolicking or the conversation that followed. Andy stopped on one particular girl, an attractive brunette with the unfortunate name of Gertrude. She studied the profile for the umpteenth time—this chick was great, but the name combined with “celeb blogging” listed as a hobby made Andy unsure.

A prickle on her neck made her glance up. Blake was staring at her. She gave him a smile. He grinned back.

Oh, yeah, nothing was going to be the same now.

Chapter Thirteen

“You did what.”

Andy knew that when Lacy’s questions began to sound like statements, things were not going well. If she wasn’t in such a good mood, Andy would be irritated by the chastising that was likely about to commence.

But she was in a good mood. A very good mood. So she let her sister continue.

And continue Lacy did. “After he turned you down last night? You went ahead and fucked him today?”

Andy cringed at Lacy’s vulgar choice of words. Then she lost the cringe because fucking was exactly what she and Blake had done.

And it had been awesome.

“Am I the only one who remembers you crying yourself to sleep after that one? He humiliated you. He forced you to practically beg for him. This wasn’t a seduction. It was creepy and weird and I don’t like it.” Lacy was not letting the matter go as easily as Andy had hoped.

“He apologized, I told you.” Maybe there was good reason for her sister to worry. It had been less than twenty-four hours since the horrible failed seduction. Things had changed so quickly. But they’d changed for the better. Couldn’t Lacy see that?

“Look, it’s fine,” Andy insisted. “We made rules and stuff.” She topped off her sister’s wine up. So nice to be able to afford wine again for moments like these.

“You made rules. Rules. And stuff. Did one include not treating you like a scorned escort, by chance? Rules. Yeah.”

More statements that were really questions. Andy wasn’t sure how to respond so she merely nodded.

“You’re going to do it again, then.” Lacy’s eyes were narrowed over the rim of her mason jar as she promptly gulped down everything Andy had poured.

“We’re going to do it again,” she confirmed. “But never in a bed, no sleepovers, nothing like that. It’s fine, sis.” She did feel a tiny bit sorry for causing the concerned look on Lacy’s face. That was concern, right? Or was it criticism?

“No beds. You just made rules to govern your boss’s hideous sex addiction. After he treats you like trash he deigns to eventually pick up.”

Criticism it was, then. Andy sighed.

“So you can bang, where? In bathrooms? In, like, the office?” A few drops of wine sloshed over as Lacy slammed her jar down on the table. She wiped them up with her finger and licked it. Clearly, Lacy wasn’t yet used to being able to afford the wine.

“We don’t bang in bathrooms. But that wasn’t a rule.” Which meant they could bang in bathrooms, if they decided they wanted to. Maybe tomorrow …

She decided she should rummage for snacks to go with their alcohol, before Lacy accidentally got too liquored up in her fury. Andy was only trying to take the edge off with all the refills, not get her drunk. Although it had worked before to calm her sister down. She poured a bit more, in case that would recur.

“So you are having sex in the office? You sicko!” Lacy’s voice rose in equal measure to the blazing in her eyes. “Can you even help but self-sabotage every opportunity that comes your way? This was a good one. It’s a temp job. It gives you a prestigious reference. You’re even making decent money for the first time in almost a year. But that isn’t enough for you?” She grabbed a handful of the chips Andy had pulled out and crunched angrily.

“It’s not that it isn’t enough for me. It isn’t tha—” Andy began to rebut.

“Oh, my God.” Lacy covered her mouth to finish chewing, eyes wide. “You don’t think you deserve this. That’s why you’re ruining it. You poor thing. How did I not see it before? Your self-esteem is shot, so you no longer even recognize your own potential. Honey, I’m so sorry.”

She stood and wrapped her long arms around Andy before continuing her consolation. “We need to look at your benefits package. Many employers offer counseling as part of a standard package these days. The stigma that used to be attached to depression really isn’t there anymore. He humiliated you, and you didn’t have the strength not to crawl back. It’s like a country song. Why are you laughing? Dear God, are you bipolar now?”