Looking up at the building of the address Dylan gave me, it looks like housing. I check the address I wrote down again and it’s correct. He better not be doing all this as some ploy to get me in his apartment. Maybe I’m just meeting him here so he can take me to the new office? We could grab coffee on the way. I skipped my coffee this morning. I was so nervous about this whole scenario. There were butterflies in my stomach and I didn’t think drinking coffee was a smart idea. I don’t have a car here in Chicago so I mostly walk everywhere or take the L. Occasionally, I get an Uber, like today. With all my office supplies I wouldn’t have been able to walk. Luckily, this address is not too far from my studio so I can walk here from now on and save myself the money. It’s a much nicer area than Lake View.

Making my way through the lobby, I ask the doorman if I can leave my stuff with him. I hit the elevators and punch the button for the sixth floor. As I ride up I think about my conversation with Cindy last night. She thought it was great Dylan offered me a job. Then I asked her if she’d been present the last two years in our office. She’s all for this new position. I know she doesn’t say it, but she likes Dylan. Cindy thinks under that rough exterior he’s actually a good guy. She’s crazy. I think she just tries to see the good in people. She’s really the good person. Cindy hasn’t found a position yet, but she said she’s okay and for me not to worry. See what I mean about good? Cindy’s the best. I can’t imagine how difficult this change will be for her. I just hope she can find something quick.

The doors open and I go to number 601. There are only three doors on this floor, so this space should be large. This is promising. I straighten my pencil skirt, adjust my bag, blow my bangs out of my face and knock lightly on the door. There’s no answer. I knock more forcefully.

There’s shuffling on the other side and the door unlocks. I’m stunned to see a woman half-dressed answer the door. I glance down at the address again. It’s correct.

“Sorry, I must have the wrong address. I’m looking for Dylan Ryder.”

She yawns and gathers the too big dress shirt wrapped around her. The woman’s long dark brown hair is hanging over one shoulder. Her legs are bare and I’m sure she’s just wearing panties under that shirt, at least I hope she is. She waves me in. I look around the door quizzically. A large hand grabs the top of the door and moves it open wider. Dylan’s face comes into view, and that’s when I notice he’s not wearing anything. He’s covered with a sheet around his waist and nothing else. I give him daggers and turn on my heel to walk away. I knew it. I fucking knew it. He played me.

“Hold up, Andy, just a sec.”

I make it to the elevators and jam down on the button multiple times to release some anger. The nerve of him rubbing whatever that was in my face. I’m the stupidest woman alive to have fallen for his job offer. He’s lucky he still has his balls right now. Desperation, that’s what I’m blaming this on. I had a weak moment and he offered me an out and I took it. Now, I just need to organize and prioritize, make some lists. I’ll be on the up and up in no time. The douche nozzle makes his way to me, almost tripping over his sheet a few times. “I slept in. I forgot to set my alarm last night. I know this makes a bad impression, but I have everything set up and waiting for you. I just need . . .”

“Some pants,” I deadpan, not giving one iota what the hell he did last night. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. I move inside and he follows me. Wow, the jerk really doesn’t want to keep his balls. Dylan’s basically naked in the elevator with me. I look up at the floor numbers and try to keep my eyes from wandering. He looks really hot in a sheet. Even though he’s a dick. I wonder what he’d look like in a towel?

“Andy, I know this looks bad, but I swear it’s all professional. I just overslept.” Yeah, right.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I give him an encouraging smile. He looks a little terrified by this, which he should. “Why are you sleeping at the office, Dylan?” I say in my sweetest voice. This should be a very easy question for him to answer. It better not be that he was breaking in his desk.

He squints his eyes, as if he’s about to get slapped in the face. Which, I may oblige him. “It’s my apartment.” Ding. The elevator doors open. I huff and walk out toward the lobby. “But it’s completely legit, Andy. I swear. You’re annoying, but I wouldn’t lie to you. I just need to get dressed and we can put this behind us.”

I turn around to tell him off, when I see some type of fluid on his beard that looks like . . . “Oh, my God. Is that cum on your beard?” I gasp, pointing at it. Disgusting.

“What?” His tongue comes out and licks around the spot. “No, it’s whipped cream.”

“Ugh! Funny how you had to taste it first to make sure.” What the hell was he doing with whipped cream? I don’t even want to know.

He sighs. “I don’t go down on one-night stands. Anyway, I’m sorry how this played out this morning. I’ll get what’s her name on her way, put some clothes on, and we can start over. What do you say?”

I turn to leave and escape this big fiasco. I mean, who does he think he is? This is no professional atmosphere. He was probably thrusting Miss Sunday Night in my face to show he can get a girl to spread her legs for him. Despicable!

“Please, Andy. Please. I really need you.” Damn. He actually sounds sincere.

That please literally kills me. He’s never uttered that word to me, even when he was trying to get two weeks off at Christmas last year. I can check out his “office” and see if everything is in order, and then make my decision. I turn around and face him. He looks ridiculous standing in the middle of the lobby with just a sheet hung around his waist. I’m sure passersby would think this is some lovers’ spat.

I stare at his chest like a creeper. He’s covered in tattoos. There are too many to concentrate on just one. Flanking his chest I see swallows in bright colors. There’s a heart, a moth, a few skulls and stars, a wolf, a bear, coy fish, a lion, some arrows, and an owl just to name a few. Dylan is gorgeous. He’s still breathing heavily from chasing me down here. My eyes travel down to where he clasps the sheet on his hip. I have to look at his crotch. I’m a woman and I’m curious. Since the sheet is white, I can see through it a little. There is definitely an outline of a large package down there. His hand comes into view and motions for me to look up with two fingers. I blush and jolt my gaze back up to his face. His hair is tousled, his eyes bright, and he has that smug grin on his face. Jerkface. He knows he looks good.

I march on over to him. He looks somewhat afraid of what I’ll do. That makes me smile. He instinctively covers his dick. I cross my arms and give him another once-over. “This will not be happening again. If I am to work for you this needs to be a professional atmosphere. I don’t want to work around some half-naked hipster who uses natural deodorant. You’re on probation, Ryder.” I walk to the elevator and he shuffles after me.

He chuckles. “Natural deodorant?” He raises his arm in the elevator and sniffs his armpit. “I smell fantastic. I use Gillette.”

I shake my head. “You smell like sex,” I say with disgust. He actually doesn’t smell, which makes me hate him more. Dylan’s so cocky he drives me crazy.

“Are you jealous, princess?” He moves to stand in front of me. My jaw drops at his insinuation. Jealous of what? I’d never want his bearded ass.

I poke my finger in his strong, well defined, tattooed chest. He’s like walking sex right now. “Let’s get one thing straight right now. We will not talk about my sex life and I don’t care to know about yours. That’s final,” I say with venom.

“God, I have a hard-on right now.” He laughs. I punch him in his arm and get off on his floor.

“Ouch!”

“You probably do get off on this don’t you, you Neanderthal.” Swinging my purse back over my shoulder, it grazes him and he lets out an “Oof.” We head back to his apartment/office. I was so tempted to check to see if he was hard. I smile to myself, because I didn’t give him the satisfaction. One point for Team Pink!

“Okay, how can I be a hipster and a Neanderthal?” He gives me a side glance as he opens the door to his apartment.

“You’re a Neanderthal trying to be a hipster,” I say gruffly. He just sighs at me.

“That makes no sense, Andy.” Dylan moves over to the kitchen where the half-naked woman is perched on a barstool eating a banana suggestively. I grimace at her ability to swallow the whole thing in one go. Damn, she has skills. I have a high gag reflex. “Babe, I gotta work now. I’ll walk you out.” Smooth, very smooth. She doesn’t even realize she’s getting the boot. She follows him to what I figure is his bedroom.

I’m left alone in his space. It’s huge. This would be a great office, if not for the big screen TV, couch, and beanbag chair in the corner. He has windows all on one side that look out over the city. Chicago looks great from here. I spot a desk near one of the windows, with a lamp and some paperwork already piled on top. I walk to the desk and notice he does already have work for me.

The woman walks out of Dylan’s room all dressed in a slinky dress. He follows her to the door. He has a pair of jeans and a black Smashing Pumpkins shirt on today. I hate the Smashing Pumpkins. The lead singer’s voice sounds like a goat crying. He gives her a quick kiss at the door and shoos her out, oblivious to the dismissal she just received. What a jerk. Looking back to the desk, I notice something . . . there’s only one.

“Are you ready to get down to business?” Dylan says as he grabs a box of Frosted Flakes cereal.

“So, there’s just one desk.” I motion to the one behind me.

“Yeah, I don’t need one.” He takes a handful of cereal and munches on it while simultaneously chugging a carton of milk. He’s like a child, a big man-child. He’s also barefoot and kind of sexy like that. Wait, no he’s not sexy. He’s a Neanderthal. I go back over to the desk and look over the paperwork. Everything seems to be in order. I notice a few things though.

“Dylan, these are some of our clients at Johnson and Banks.”

“Yes, princess, they are.” He doesn’t offer up more than that. This sounds fishy.

“Are you working for the new company?” I start to pace the floor in front of the desk. He’s relaxed at a barstool two fisting his breakfast.

“In a way, but I work for myself. Whatever it is you’re thinking, don’t. It’s completely legal. I can show you the paperwork if you’d like.” He seems annoyed. Dylan’s a smart guy and I know he’s intelligent enough not to do anything illegal. I still nod my head. He huffs and picks up a piece of paper under one of the many files on the desk. “Here. Just think of me as an independent contractor for them.”

The document says the name of the new company, P. Revere Accounting Firm. Dylan Ryder is listed on the forms and he seems to be working for the new company but not under anyone. Everything seems to be in order.

“Okay, what would you like me to do first? Oh, and one of my conditions was that I would have my own office away from you. I’m basically on top of you here.”

“Yeah, you are.”

Rolling my eyes, I set my purse down next to the desk.