“I need help, Wren,” I told her that day at lunch. “Because I’m seriously thinking about taking him up on his offer.”

“Of course you are,” she said, and I rolled my eyes. “I mean it,” she continued, like she didn’t know I was mentally flipping her the bird. Trust me. She knew. “You’re thinking about it because it’s the sensible thing to do, and you’re always sensible.”

“AKA boring.”

“There’s nothing boring at looking over all your options before making a decision. That’s just smart.”

I nodded toward the folder Tenor gave me before I left his office. I’d only had a chance to flip through the pages. “I wish his proposal wasn’t as good as I think it’s going to be.”

“What an odd thing to wish for.” Wren shook her head. “Why would you want it to be worse?”

“Because then I could file him away forever in the asshole box and leave him there permanently. It’ll be so much harder to do that when I get a chance to read this in detail and realize it’s not that cut and dry.”

“Little in life is.” She thumped my shoulder. “Besides, the world needs fewer assholes, not more.”

“I’m fine with fewer assholes, I just like it better when he’s one of them.” But as soon as I said it, I remembered how hot he was and how genuine he sounded about having me on his team, and I wondered if I really wanted him to be an asshole.

“It makes it easier for you, doesn’t it?” she asked with a tilt of her head. “When everyone acts the way you think they should based on the box you have them in?”

“I don’t know. You make it sound bad.” And it made me feel bad.

“You don’t like surprises.”

I snorted. She got that part right at least. I hated it when things didn’t work out the way I had them planned. Or, in the case of Tenor, when people didn’t act like I thought they should. It was nicer and things ran better when everything and everyone behaved the way they were supposed to in my mind.

“Which means Tenor should act like an asshole because that’s what you’ve labeled him as,” she said and it sounded grossly unfair even to me.

“It sounds even worse when you put it that way,” I said.

“Good.”

“Good?” I asked. “It’s good? What about it is good? And why are you sticking up for him all of a sudden? You know how I feel about him.”

“You’ve judged Tenor based on nothing at all. You’ve met him all of one time and you’d already made up your mind about him before that. And I’m willing to bet that judgment was made from the fact that you didn’t like the way he ran his matchmaking business.”

I hated it when Wren was right about me being the asshole. I couldn’t deny it. She was right. I’d painted Tenor to be an ass based solely upon the fact that I didn’t like the way he ran his business and not on the man himself.

Thinking back to our brief meeting, there hadn’t been any part of him that screamed asshole. On the contrary, up until I thought he’d propositioned me with sex, he’d been charming. Talking with him had been rather nice.

Was it possible I’d been wrong about him? Thinking about it made me feel itchy. But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed possible. I glanced at the folder to the side of my plate. The proposal would be very telling.

Wren, of course, could just about read my mind. We’d always been that way with each. Today was no different. She tapped on the folder. “I’m going to leave so you have time to read. Keep an open mind, okay?”

I nodded and stood up to hug her. “Thank you, Wren. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’m sure you’d do just fine.”

I didn’t believe that for a second and I shook my head. “I don’t ever want to find out.”

She laughed and cocked a hand on her hip. “Lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, sister.”

I grinned even though I saw the sadness and truth she kept hidden inside. If she truly had her way, she wouldn’t be here in Boston. And she most definitely would not be working as a journalist.

No, for as long as I could remember, Wren only wanted to do one thing and that was dance. She took class after class after class of ballet as we were growing up. She danced before school and she danced after school. She didn’t get into the ballet company she wanted, but she didn’t let that stop her. She worked teaching classes for kids and filling in when needed anywhere else she could find.

About three years after graduation, she decided to take a few business courses and as it turned out, there were several people from our graduating class at the same school. They would all get together on weekends to party and such. Wren went out with them frequently. She would often beg me to join them, but Mom and I were new business owners and more times than not, I’d turn her down.

I don’t regret much in my life, but I do regret that I wasn’t there to support Wren during that time. To this day, I’m not sure what exactly happened, but a group of them all went to Italy together and when she came back, she was no longer able to dance due to a skiing accident.

She didn’t talk about it then and she still doesn’t. I’d learned over the years that it’s just one thing I’d have to deal with: not knowing what happened in Italy. I’ve long since given up trying to get it out of her, but I think there was a man involved.

So, when she looked at me with that sad smile she tried to hide, and told me I was stuck with her, I smiled back. “We’ll say that, but only because we both know it’s because I’m never leaving your side.”

We said our goodbyes and she went back to not dancing and I picked up the folder Tenor gave me and settled in to read.

Later, when I finally put the pages down, I was surprised because his offer was much later than I’d thought. I glanced at my watch. I’d spent hours going through everything. Because, as I’d just learned, Tenor is nothing if not fastidiously thorough.

The packet he’d put together for me contained not only his offer of employment, but terms and conditions on the forgiveness of the loan, a detailed perspective of Bachelor International, and the bios of all of his current employees, as well as a good number of those no longer with the company.

He noted in the documents that I was free to talk to any of them and ask questions about the job, the company, or him. He’d also indicated that he would pull together information on past clients if I would like to talk with them, but that it would take some time due to confidentiality.

I felt shell-shocked, for lack of a better word. Not only was Tenor nothing even close to an ass, but from all appearances he was hardworking, generous, and honest. In fact, he was so far away from the man I had pictured that I almost wanted to go dig up some dirt on him, just to prove he wasn’t perfect.

I pulled out my phone and glanced at the number on the top of the paper. Was it wrong that the way he perfectly wrote his numbers annoyed me? Without allowing myself to think about what I was going to say or ask, I punched the digits of his cell phone into mine.

I told myself it was late and more than likely he was out with friends or on a date or something. He was almost certainly not sitting at home or in his office, waiting for his phone to ring.

Which is why it took me longer than average to respond when he answered with, “Hello?”

“Tenor?” I asked because I still couldn’t believe it was him. His voice was just as deep and commanding as I remembered and an unexpected warmth began to grow in my lower belly.

“Yes,” he answered and then added, “Is this Mia?”

I closed my eyes in embarrassment. Damn, the way he said my name. “Yes. Sorry, I didn’t expect you to answer.”

He chuckled. “I have to question the type of people you hang around if they normally don’t answer their phone when you call.”

“It’s not like that,” I stopped myself before I blurted out that it was just him I didn’t expect to answer. “Besides, you didn’t know it was me until I confirmed it.”

“True.”

“And,” I continued. “Now that you know what my number is and you made that comment, you’ll always have to answer my calls.”

“Also true,” he said and I heard the smile in his voice. “Although I have to confess, I would have always answered your calls even if I hadn’t made that comment. I assure you, it is no hardship.”

Was he flirting? I was so stunned I didn’t say anything.

Finally, he coughed. “Is there something I can help you with, Mia?”

Right. Right. Right. “I had a chance to read through the proposal.”

“Ah, good. Did you have any questions? Anything I can clarify?”

Why do you have to be so nice? But I couldn’t ask him that, so I answered with, “Not really. Nothing specific anyway.”

The silence between us hummed and I closed my eyes, as if that would make it go away. But of course it didn’t. Why had I called him again?

“Should we get together to discuss everything?” he asked and was it intentional that he used ‘get together’ instead of ‘meet’?

Did I care?

No.

“Yes,” I told him. “That would be great.”

There was a smile in his voice when he spoke again. “Excellent. I’m in meetings almost all day for the next three days. Are you free for dinner either tomorrow or the next day?”

Dinner? Why dinner? “Umm…” I started and then stopped because I didn’t know what else to say.

“I know it’s an odd request,” he added. “But as I said, I have all-day meetings for the next few days and dinner is the only time I have free. We could always wait until they’re all finished, but to be perfectly honest with you, I can be an impatient man when I see something I want.”

Two hundred butterflies should not have taken up unexpected residence in my belly at the way his voice grew low and rough as he said that last line. They should not have. This man was a potential employer and I had no business getting butterflies at anything he said.

But I wasn’t about to turn him down. I wanted to discuss his proposal and truth be known, I wanted to see if I could get to the bottom of why everything about him affected me the way it did. “Tomorrow night would be perfect.”