“Oh my fucking God!” Danica whispers. “That was him? How did I not see him sitting over there? And you were talking to him?”

“Yeah, he lit a cigarette and I told him—”

The phone rings and the display screen tells us it’s the guest in Penthouse A.

“It’s him!” Danica squeals. She grabs the phone before I can even think to reach for it. “Hello, sir, how can I help you?” She pauses. “No, this is Danica. The one with the dark hair who was standing behind the front desk.”

I bristle. Of course, Danica wants Lucas Ford to know she’s the hot brunette behind the front desk and not the dirty-blond plain-Jane kindergarten teacher who berated him about the freaking Colorado Clean Indoor Air Act of 2006. Because, as Danica knows full well, any man in the world—including a world-famous rock star—would be attracted to her over me. Because unlike me, Danica Reynolds is just plain sexy, no matter what she does or wears or says. No impersonation of a femme fatale in a James Bond movie required.

Danica continues talking into the phone, a smile plastered across her face. “I’d certainly be thrilled to help you with whatever you require, Mr. Ford.” Her smile vanishes. “Oh. Sure thing.” She holds the phone out to me, her eyes like daggers. “Mr. Ford says he wants to talk to ‘Abby the Ass-kicker.’”

My heart lurches. I grab the phone from Danica, my heart in my throat. “This is Abby.”

“Is this Colorado’s foremost expert on the Indoor Clean Air Act of 2006?”

My heart skips a beat. “Yes, it is. Actually, I’ll be teaching a seminar on the finer points of the statute in the fourth-floor conference room later. Oh, and I’m going to close out my lecture with a reading of Goodnight Moon.”

I can hear his smile across the phone line.

“You should come down and check it out, sir,” I add. “It’s going to be a fantastically good time.”

Lucas chuckles. “I’ve actually got a much better idea. Why don’t you come up to my suite for an even better fantastically good time? You can teach me about any Colorado statute you like, one-on-one.”

Blood whooshes into my crotch. I open my mouth and abruptly close it again, incapable of replying. Did Lucas Ford just invite me up to his room for sex? That’s what he meant, right? “I’m, uh, working,” I say lamely.

“Ah, that’s right. A working girl. Well, is the kitchen open? Consider this my call to order room service. Actually, that’s a good idea. I’m starving.”

I shift my eyes to Danica. She’s staring at me like I have three heads.

I clear my throat. “Yes, sir, a limited version of the menu is available during off-hours. Would you like me to connect you with room service so they can tell you what’s available?”

“No, I’d strongly prefer to have an ass-kicker order a bunch of different things plus a bottle of Jim Beam and bring me everything herself.”

I think I’m going to have a heart attack. “Sure. I’d be happy to assist you with that, sir.” I glance at Danica again and she looks like she’s about to have a stroke.

Three women enter the lobby, laughing at the tops of their lungs, and one of them beelines to Danica and begins asking her something about bus routes.

I turn my back on Danica and the woman and whisper into the phone. “What would you like me to bring you, Mr. Ford?”

“Lucas, remember? Just bring me whatever you like and make it two. It’s time for you to take your lunch break, Abby.”

Oh, jeez, I feel like I’m going to pass out. I know I talked a good game earlier when Lucas was acting like a douche, but now that he’s seemingly hitting on me, I’m feeling like I might be in over my head here. I haven’t gone fishing for a bad boy in five years, and I’m quite certain I’m waaaay out of practice. And waaaay out of my league. I mean, seriously, this guy’s not a bad-boy fish, he’s a freaking whale. “What about your friend?” I whisper into the phone, my back still facing Danica. “Would he like something to eat, too?”

But I’m talking to no one. The line is dead.

I stare at the phone for a moment in disbelief and finally return it to its cradle.

“What’d he say?” Danica asks, her eyes as big as saucers.

I glance across the lobby and locate the trio of women heading toward the elevators.

“Uh, nothing much,” I say. “He said he’s hungry.” I tell Danica a watered-down version of what Lucas Ford said to me and she pouts.

“Why’d he ask you to bring his food?” she says. “No offense, but you look like you’re going to sit him down and try to sell him insurance.”

I chuckle. She’s right. I totally do. “I have no idea why me. Maybe he just wants to tell me off for making him put out his cigarette?”

Danica practically stomps her foot with frustration. “Why couldn’t I have been the one standing here when Lucas Ford came in? One look at me and my body made for sin and he’d have known right away I’d suck his dick. I mean, no offense, honey, but if he wants a woman who’s going to help him blow off a little steam after a hard night at the arena, and not one who’s going to sit him down and try to sell him an annuity, then clearly I’m his girl.”

I chuckle. “Don’t worry, Dani. All’s right with the world. There’s no way Lucas Ford is going to hit on me, even if he wanted to—which he doesn’t. His friend is still up there with him, remember? Nothing too exciting could possibly happen with that guy still there. I’m just going to bring Mr. Rock Star a sandwich and tell him how amazing he is and that will be that.”

“Yeah, I know, but still, I’m totally jealous.”

“Don’t be. Nothing could happen with Nerd Guy still—”

One of the elevator’s doors open and Lucas Ford’s handler enters the lobby…

Frozen, Danica and I watch him stride past us and straight out the front door of the hotel without a backward glance.