Quinn is burned into my brain.

Friday morning at the Pierce Industries building, and it’s time to move into my new corner office on the eighteenth floor, where the entertainment division is headquartered. My assistant brought down most of my things yesterday before she left for the day, so all there is to do now is to look through my desk and make sure I haven’t left anything behind.

I open all the drawers.

Empty. Every one.

Not a single trace of me remains in this office.

“Feeling sentimental?”

My father leans against the doorway, his Italian suit tailored perfectly to his lean frame.

“For this old place?” I say with a grin, standing up from behind the desk. “Not at all. Bigger and better things.”

“That’s my boy,” he says wryly, but there’s an undercurrent of approval there. A hot spike of resentment burns through my chest. All those years that he thought my brother walked on water…

To cover it up, I smile even wider, meeting him at the doorway. “Monthly board meeting?”

“Business as usual,” he says with a little sigh, even though I know he loves board meetings. The board of directors at Pierce Industries is largely decorative. It’s a private company, but my father thought it would give his decisions more legitimacy if he could collect opinions from the board before he announced them.

Not that they ever sway him. He likes to throw his weight around. Dear old dad is a devious bastard like that.

You’re not much better.

And then another thought, hard on its heels:

What would Quinn Campbell think?

To cover it, I smile wider at my father, let him clap me on the back, and then walk with him to the elevators. “Meetings of my own,” I say, and then a car arrives, going down. I step in, but my father steps back. He’s going up.

Isn’t that always how it is?

The door slides shut behind me, and I put a hand to my head.

Why the hell would I possibly care what Quinn Campbell thinks? She’s some woman I met for twenty minutes in the rain yesterday, not the love of my life.

There’s never going to be a love of my life.

It’s not in the cards for Christian Pierce.

Not now, not ever.

Because that would mean…

I shake my head sharply. I’m not going to think about it.

What I need to do is focus on my job. On my friends. I have plans for a group to go to the Swan tonight. I’m bringing Melody. She doesn’t work for Pierce Industries. Partners have been known to bring women who are “temping as assistants” with them to the gala to liven things up.

It worked.

But the main thing I care about is that when I end things with Melody—and I will end things, in three dates or less—it won’t become an issue at the office. She gets what she wants. I get the distraction I want. No workplace drama.

Except in my own head.

I don’t want to go to the Swan with Melody. I want to go back in time and ask Quinn Campbell if she’ll be my date instead.

I’d break the rules for her.

No. I won’t.

The thought chills me to the core, and for the hundredth time today, I wonder how the hell a woman I saw for twenty minutes has such a hold over me.

It’s not love. I’m not in love with her. I want her. I’m intrigued by her. I want to know more about her. I want to know what made her decide to drag that massive suitcase through the rain in SoHo. I want to know what made her flinch when I touched her arm. I want to know why she was more worried about her things becoming litter than about saving any of them. Where did she come from, that when her life was splattered all over a New York City intersection, she didn’t even cry?

Maybe she’s tough.

Or maybe there’s more to know about her.

I could look her up. I give Stephanie, my assistant, a nod as I go past her and into my office. No. I dismiss the idea. I’m not going to go chasing some woman all over the city to…

To what? Take her on three dates, and then leave her behind like all the rest?

Something tells me it won’t be that easy.

But I can’t afford for it to be difficult.

I absolutely cannot allow those kinds of complications into my life, because if I were to fall in love…

I could fall in love with her.

I take a deep breath and let it out through my nose. This is crazy. This kind of thinking—it’s going to get me into trouble.

Those captivating green eyes have sucked me in. The confident way she stood, the way she spoke, imprinted itself on my mind, and I can’t forget her.

Quinn Campbell.

“Stop,” I say out loud, bringing my hand down on the surface of my desk, and moments later Stephanie appears at the door.

“Did you need something, Mr. Pierce?”

“No, Stephanie. Actually—” I wrack my brain for a plausible request, something to hide the fact that something is bothering me, hide the fact that I’m not my usual carefree cocky self. “Give me a rundown of my schedule today.”

“Absolutely,” she says, looking down at a notepad nestled in the crook of her arm. “In fifteen minutes, there’s a department update meeting. At lunch, you’re scheduled to go out with…”

I’m looking at her, trying my damnedest to pay attention, but those eyes…

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, desperate for a distraction. “Give me a minute, Stephanie.”

At first, I don’t understand the message on my screen.

It’s from Carolyn.

Why didn’t you tell me you met my new roommate? ;)

She had mentioned a new roommate, someone moving in this week from out in Colorado. A college roommate. I can’t remember the name, but…

It hits me like a Mack truck.

The suitcase.

The rain.

Carolyn’s neighborhood.

Quinn Campbell is Carolyn’s roommate.