To celebrate my new job, I meet up with my friend Crystal for drinks at our favorite local bar, The Watering Hole.

Her jaw drops as I recount how I got hired at Blackwell Industries.

“So let me get this straight. You told him off, and he hired you?”

“Yeah,” I shrug. “It makes no sense to me either.”

“You know what else makes no sense? How a billionaire could be that hot.”

I nearly spit out my drink. “You’re talking about Sebastian?”

“Oh please,” Crystal rolls her eyes. “Don’t act like you’ve been living under a rock. Here.”

She pulls out her phone, pulls up the instagram app, and shows me a picture.

“See? Look at those abs.”

I take her phone and swallow. The photo is from a year or so ago, and he’s with a woman who looks like if you looked up the word ‘sexy as hell’ in the dictionary, you’d find her picture. She’s got a perfectly proportioned body. Sebastian compliments her well. If you looked up ‘tall dark and handsome’ you’d probably find his picture. His eyes are mocha-colored, and his body is wet in the picture. He’s got a slight happy trail and a few hairs on his chest, but that doesn’t take away from his six pack abs.

“That’s...him? Holy shit,” I swallow. “I only saw him in a suit. He’s going to be the perfect muse for my romance novel.”

“Um, what?” Crystal does a double take as I stare longingly at his picture, still puzzled over why the man chose to hire a girl like me. My skin flushes, and I wonder what it would feel like to run my hand along those abs. “Did you just say romance novel? You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

I nod, but I’m in some sort of a trance looking at Sebastian’s toned body.

“Stare much?” Crystal jokes. “I mean, you’ll have plenty of time to stare at work. In person. Right?”

I shake my head.

“Dick!” I blurt out, my blood suddenly boiling as I remember how he tried to get me to sell my family property the other day.

“Dick?” Crystal takes her phone and examines the photo more closely.

I take a swig of my drink, still remembering how much of an uncaring asshole he seemed yesterday.

“Hmm,” she says. “Yeah, now that you mention it, I think I can see the outline of his...you know...in that swimsuit. Wow.”

“Crystal! I meant, ‘he’s a dick!’ Not ‘look at his dick!’” I throw my head back in laughter.

Crystal shrugs and puts her phone away. “Well apparently you are tongue tied when talking about him. Understandably.”

“But it’s true. He’s an asshole.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t sleep with him?”

“You know my rule.”

Crystal rolls her eyes. “No more assholes after Patrick,” she says, imitating my voice.

“You mean after the one of whom we shall no longer speak of. Besides, this guy is dating models. It’s such a ridiculous hypothetical question. It would never come up. Obviously, he likes willowy model types. I’m a curvy little blonde.”

Crystal trails off and bites her lip. “Speak of the devil. The man enters like he’s God’s gift to women. Sad thing is, I can’t say I blame him.”

I turn my head to the front door and watch. To say Sebastian ‘walks’ in is not accurate.

He struts.

He’s wearing jeans, a blazer, and has these boots on that are somehow as stylish as they are rugged looking. He looks like he could crossover from an office meeting as easily as he could head out into the cornfields and jump on a tractor.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing him with his shirt off, heading into the fields for some hard labor,” Crystal jokes, and I chuckle.

Inside, Sebastian is barraged by an array of service staff, asking if he needs anything, making sure the owner of the place and the one who pays their salaries is taken care of.

Figures--he’s a hot shot.

The hostess leads him toward a booth in the corner.

As he walks past us, I realize something I didn’t in the office today, or when he came out to my place the morning before.

His shoulders are broad enough that I wonder why he didn’t just become a professional athlete instead of Blackwell’s most notorious deal-maker. Sure, maybe his blazer makes them a little broader, but not by much. And maybe it’s the dim bar-light, but the way his dark features come out has me wondering reinforces that I’ve found some romantic inspiration for my book that I have yet to start writing.

He looks in my direction and he must see me. Though he doesn’t even make eye contact with me. I certainly catch a whiff of his cologne as he walks by. It smells like the woods mixed with fresh mint.

Crystal sniffs the air. “Smells like Hugo Boss.”

“What a dick,” I mutter under my breath.

So he hires me in the morning, but outside of work he won’t even say hi to me?

He passes me and he’s already heading to a booth in the back of the bar.

“Um,” Crystal coughs, turning her head back toward me. “Isn’t he your new boss? He didn’t even acknowledge your existence.”

“No. He didn’t.”

“Maybe he didn’t see you?”

“We’re in the first two seats at the bar. How could he miss us?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Why don’t you find out?”

“Find out how?”

“Go talk to him. I mean he looks lonely, sitting in the corner booth like that, doesn’t he?”

“I guess he does.”

She shrugs. “Just go ask him. I’ll get us a couple of new drinks. Sound good?”

“Alright.”

I watch as the bartender comes back from talking to Sebastian, presumably to take his order.

“Hey Mason,” I ask as he muddles the drink.

“What’s up?”

“You mind if I bring that drink over to the gentleman in the corner?”

“You want to bring Sebastian Blackwell his drink? Why?”

“Because he’s my new boss. And he’s a dick.”