Chapter Three

ISABELLA

With the exception of a few stolen glances and the arousal that comes with our secret, Adam has stayed true to his word about nothing changing at the office. In fact, if it wasn’t for the ache between my thighs and his masculine scent still on my skin, I might think I dreamt the whole thing.

I’m preparing to leave for lunch when the door to his office swings open, pulling my eyes to his.

“Margaret, would you mind sending these out on your way back from lunch?” he asks, handing her a small stack of envelopes and thanking her as she agrees. “Miss Baxter?” he says, finally meeting my gaze, his voice low and even. “I need a word with you in my office.”

“Yes, sir,” I nod, shutting off my monitor and moving toward the door after him, the faint yet delicious smell of his cologne making me heady once more as I step inside.

“Close the door, please,” he says quietly as he takes a seat at his desk, returning his eyes to his work as he scratches his beard in thought.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, moving toward the edge of his desk, his eyes meeting mine as he nods.

“Of course,” he answers, setting the papers to the side and turning his chair. “Come here.”

I move around the side of his desk, silently appreciating the sight of him leaning back into his chair in a suit that probably costs more than what I pay for three month’s rent. Worth every penny, I think to myself as I take in the way it fits him just right.

“Are you on your way to lunch?” he asks as I come to a stop in front of him, his fingers brushing the back of my waist as he taps a few keys and returns his eyes to mine when I nod my reply. “Where will you be?”

“We usually meet at Moxies,” I say, settling on the edge of his desk.

“Where is Moxies and who is we?” he asks, his eyes moving back to mine.

“It’s that little café about a block up and my best friend, Christie,” I explain, tracing the edge of his lapel. “She works in the next building over. I think I’ve mentioned her.”

“I remember,” he says quietly, his thumb slowly moving over my waist before he drops it, resting it low behind the inside of my knee. “Will it just be the two of you?” he asks, pulling another nod from me. “Okay,” he says with an affectionate squeeze, warming my chest. “Make sure you let me know when you’ve returned.”

“I will,” I promise, my lips turning up slightly at the corners. “Would you like me to bring you anything back?”

“No, thank you,” he shakes his head, finally turning to give me his full attention. “But there is something you can do for me while you’re gone.”

“Sure,” I shrug, resting my hands on his chest as he rises from his seat, towering over me. “What’s up?”

“I know this, whatever it is, is still very new,” he starts, his eyebrows scrunching together slightly as he studies me as his palm falls gently to my waist. “I know you might feel like talking about things with a girlfriend, but I think discretion is best right now and not just at the office.”

“Okay,” I nod, biting the inside of my cheek to fend off the emotion heating my cheeks as I begin to pull away.

He holds me in place.

“I’m sure you remember how invasive the press was when I arrived,” he continues, pulling a nod from me. “I can’t imagine the uproar of an interoffice relationship revealing itself seemingly overnight wouldn’t warrant a frenzy of even more ridiculous proportions,” he sighs, brushing my hair away from my face and tucking it behind my ear. “If there’s anything you’d like to discuss, you can always come to me. I know that’s not the same and it won’t be this way forever,” he offers, his expression softly stained with apology. “Unfortunately, any relationship with me will warrant speculation, media attention…” he trails off, still studying my face. “I don’t think either of us want that. Especially so soon that we’re not even sure of what this is. Everyone deserves privacy. I want to be able to give that to you, to both of us, but this is the only way I can. Say you understand that.”

“I understand,” I say quietly, giving him a nod as I hold his eyes. “I won’t say anything to anyone.”

“Hmm,” he hums, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Good girl.”

“Hey, you,” I greet Christie with a smile as I approach our usual spot near the sidewalk of the café.

“Hey,” she smiles back, finishing her text as I pull my chair out. “How was your…” she starts as she glances up at me but stops midsentence as her eyes narrow before going wide. “Oh, my God! You had sex!”

“What?” I ask, freezing in place as my cheeks flare, my movement seeming to suspend in time for a split second. “No, I didn’t,” I lie, setting my purse down and falling into the seat. “Shut up.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s so obvious,” she argues with a scoff, her voice louder this time, bringing attention to our small table. “So, who is he? Tell me everything.”

“Nothing. It was no one,” I stammer, reaching for my water. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Why are you lying to me right now?” she demands as I reach for my menu, ignoring her harsh gaze as I open it and pretend to look it over. “Don’t pretend to look at the menu. You get the same thing every day,” she pulls it away. “Who was it?”

“No, I don’t and no one!” I huff, shaking my head as I retrieve the menu from her hand, creating a barrier as I hold it up, blocking her view from my blazing cheeks and feigned anger. “God, you’re so pushy.”

“Oh, don’t make a wall. You look ridiculous,” she snorts. “Just tell me.”

I don’t have to retreat from my laminated fortress to know she’s shaking her head. I’m about to reply when our server approaches, giving us a bright and unknowing smile.

“Hello, ladies. What can I get for you today?”

“Umm… I’m not sure I’m ready to-”

“She’ll take the veggie wrap with a side of fries and I’d like the Rueben melt, medium well with no sauce, please,” she cuts me off, her lips curling up as she pulls the menu from my grip and hands it to the waiter, keeping her eyes on me. “Now start talking.”

“Jesus,” I sigh as I begin shaking my head, unable to fend off my amusement. “When did you become such a pain in the ass?”

“Now, that’s really hard to say, but I think it’s important we not get hung up in those details,” she shrugs, taking a sip from her tea and leaning back against the seat. “We only have an hour and I’m ready when you are.”

I stare back at her, chewing on the inside of my cheek while I search my mind for ways to not spill my secret, but also not keep lying to my best friend. When I find her eyebrow cocked in my direction, I give up and shake my head.

“Okay, something happened,” I confess, my voice low. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh, God!” she grimaces. “You didn’t take another booty call from that jackass, did you?”

“What? No!” I shake my head, my own face contorting at the thought of my ex. “Are you crazy?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time!”

“One time, Christie! I did that once!” I huff, ignoring her chuckle. “Anyway, no. It wasn’t him. It’s just really early and I don’t want to jinx anything. Can you please just be reasonable? Give me a little more time before you force me to talk about it?”

“Aww, honey,” she begins, her eyes soft as she leans forward, giving my hand a friendly squeeze. “Of course not,” she says, snickering when I roll my eyes. “This is why you have a best friend, to harass and torture you when you - oh!” she stops midsentence once more, this time pulling her hand away from mine and covering her mouth in shock. “It was him, wasn’t it? You slept with Ada-”

“No!” I cut her off, waving my arm in front of her in a childish effort to silence her. “Shh! Christie, no!”

“You are such a slut!” she shakes her head, my reaction only fueling her maniacal laughter. “I knew it!”

“Would you shut the hell up?” I demand, making her laugh harder, although it’s obvious she knows my secret. I swallow hard and collect my nerves before I face her again, this time more composed. “Although I’m flattered you have such a high opinion of me,” I roll my eyes. “I’d never be so unprofessional as to begin a personal relationship with my boss,” I lie meekly, the mistruth in my words making it impossible to meet her eyes. “You remember how crazy things got? How scary it was when he first took over?” I trail off. “Imagine if the press caught wind of anything,” I explain, holding her eyes, her smile fading as she finally gives me a small nod of understanding “That would make things really complicated for everyone,” I explain. “I’d never want to subject the people around me to that. Especially not people I love.”

“Yeah,” she nods, her features softening. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”

We sit silently for a moment, the awkward air between us that comes with my secrecy setting in before she chases it away with the shake of her head.

“So, I’m pretty sure my boss is stealing office supplies and selling them out of the trunk of her car.”

ADAM

When I hear the muffled ringing coming from the lower level of her apartment building as the door swings open, I turn to find her flying inside, out of breath. Lowering the phone from my ear and sliding it into my pocket, the incessant ringing from the bottom of her gym bag ceases and she rushes the steps, taking them two at a time.

“I’m here! I’m here! I’m here!” she calls out on her way up, panting as she finally comes to a stop in front of me. “I’m sorry. My class ran late, I hit traffic and I had a cop riding my ass the whole way here, so I couldn’t call you,” she explains, leaning against the doorframe beside me. “I also don’t have your phone number,” she pants. “Jesus, my lungs are on fucking fire right now,” she bends in half, leaning on her knees. “I just… please just give me a second to catch my breath.”

I nod silently, my throat going dry as I run my eyes over her scarce attire. Her black sports bra is slightly damp with sweat and the lowcut matching shorts she’s wearing barely cover her ass. As she stands, my gaze moves from her long, tanned legs up the length of her body and back to her eyes, I can’t help the smirk as I find her cheeks crimson.

“Hello, Isabella,” I smile.

“Hi,” she blushes, reaching up on her toes to kiss my jaw. “Come in,” she says as she pushes the door open and tosses her bag onto a chair before moving toward her bedroom, yanking a dress from the closet and tossing it onto the mattress. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Take your time,” I offer, sliding my hands into my pockets to hide the twitch in my palm.

“Really?” she asks, surprise written all over her face.

“No,” I smirk, glancing at my watch. “We have reservations in twenty minutes.”

“That sounds more like it,” she chuckles, winding her ponytail into a bun on top of her head and tossing her clothes to the side before stepping into the shower beneath the spray.

I glance around me, taking in her apartment and the small details I’d missed before. Her bedroom is neat, the Bohemian flair I’d noticed before making a little more sense now that we’ve spent more time together. I notice a door at the end of the hall that’s shut tight, unusual only because everything else is open.

“Do you have a roommate?”

“No, why?”

“I just didn’t notice you had a second bedroom before,” I reply. “Where is your phone?”

“Oh. Yeah, I just use that room for relaxing. It’s kind of an escape…” she trails off. “My phone is in my gym bag on the table. If you want anything to drink, make yourself at home,” she calls out. “I swear I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

“Okay,” I answer, probably too low for her to hear me as I program my number into her phone and lean against the doorframe, admiring the outline of her body behind the curtain. “You have my number now. Next time, you’ll call.”

“Well, there was a cop,” she argues as she steps out, thanking me when I reach for a towel and wrap it around her shoulders.

“I’ll pay the ticket,” I insist. “Next time call.”

“Okay,” she says, my dominant gaze unrelenting as it holds her. “Next time, I’ll call.”

Despite my unrelenting desire to blow off dinner altogether and devour her instead, we slip into my car twelve minutes later.

ISABELLA

“How do you like your steak?” Adam asks from his place across the table from me.

“Grazing in a field,” I reply, smirking at his confused expression before understanding reaches his eyes. “Hopefully like the happy ones in those cheese commercials.”

“You’re a vegetarian?”

“I am,” I nod. “Is that weird for you?”

“Not at all,” he shakes his head immediately. “I just had no idea.”

“I have been since I was twelve,” I admit, holding his eyes. “I spent a summer at my grandparent’s farm in Italy and befriended a calf who later disappeared following a particularly memorable craving my Nonno was having for veal saltimbocca.”

“Ah,” he nods his understanding, giving me a sad smile.

“Yes, it was quite traumatizing. I’d named him and everything,” I admit, smiling sadly at him when he cringes at my story. “Anyway, I’ve been a dedicated herbivore ever since.”

“I can’t say I blame you,” he offers, shaking his head as he glances back up from the menu at me. “I may regret this later, but what did you name him?”

“The calf?” I ask, pulling a nod from him. “Ravioli, ironically enough,” I admit as I push a long breath out of my chest, resting my chin in my palm, smiling at his sympathetic chuckle.

“Isabella,” he sighs, biting his lip as he holds my eyes. “That’s a terrible story, darling.”

“Yeah, probably not great first date material,” I scrunch my nose up and give him an apologetic smirk. “I’m sorry.”

“To Ravioli,” he sighs, making me giggle before reaching across to his glass and tipping it in my direction. “May he live in our hearts forever.”

“Yes,” I nod with a wide smile, clinking my wine glass to his. “Lunga vita ai Ravioli.”

The waiter approaches, offering to go over the evenings specials with us.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you,” Adam shakes his head as he hands him our menus and clears his throat. “We’ll both have the eggplant.”

Our conversation remains light over dinner, never ceasing as I answer his questions about my family, friends, interests and various pieces of my life before he came into it.

I’ve never been what I’d call an open book, but there’s something about the depth of his hazel eyes, his warm smile and dominating presence that makes it impossible for me to deny him.

I ask plenty of my own questions, finding out basics like he’s an only child and had been on his own since he’d lost his mother in college. He’s short with his answers and doesn’t volunteer much, but he doesn’t deny me, either.

Once our plates are cleared and the check is settled, he ushers me out of the secluded dining area he’d reserved for us, leading me toward the valet stand.

“Thank you for dinner,” I say quietly as we wait for his car to be retrieved. “Will I see you in the morning at the office or will you be in meetings all day?”

“You’ll see me,” he replies, his voice low to match mine. “Are you so eager for the night to end?”

“No,” I shake my head, glancing up at him. “No, I just thought…”

“Spend the night with me,” he cuts me off, the words more of a statement than a suggestion.

Not that it matters.

In the amount of time it takes the attendant to hand him his keys, I’ve already said yes.