The meeting finished half an hour ago. I was dressed in a clean shirt and suit. Thank God I keep spares in my office. Never thought I’d need them for that reason though.

The announcement about Morgan and me was made, and Morgan stood up to introduce herself to everyone. I’m pretty sure she told everyone where she was from and regaled her previous job history to them along with what she hoped to achieve here, but I didn’t absorb a word because, honestly, I was stuck in my head, silently fuming over the shirt incident.

I swear, it’s like someone has it out for me.

I mean, who in the hell writes a note about how great the sex was? Granted, it was great because, hello, this is me we’re talking about. But, writing that and her phone number on the back of my shirt, it’s just crazy behavior.

Whatever happened to just slipping a guy your number on a piece of paper? Is writing on the guy’s clothes a new thing? I hope to fuck not. Thank God I won’t be seeing that chick again.

I could really have done without that happening the first time I saw Morgan after all these years.

She looked at me like I was the same piece of shit that she’d thought I was in college, and I can’t blame her.

I didn’t get a chance to explain, not that my explanation would have had me coming off sounding great, because my mom ushered her out of the office, leaving me with Chrissy and my dad, who thought it was highly fucking amusing. I bet he won’t be laughing about it to my mom though.

I know for sure that I’m in for a lecture from my mom.

Aside from the side-eyed stares she kept giving me during the meeting, I was treated to the look right before she and Dad left to go to their meeting with their broker.

But I’ll deal with Mom later.

Right now, I need to speak to Morgan.

I wanted to talk to her after the meeting was done, but I couldn’t get her alone for a second. Then, I had to take a business call on my cell, so I stepped out of the conference room, and when I came back, she was gone. I asked Chrissy if she knew where Morgan was, and Chrissy told me she was up in her new office, checking it out.

So, here I am, on my way to her office. Tail between my legs. Figuratively. Because my actual tail is very keen on getting between her legs.

But that’s never going to happen.

A: Because she probably still thinks I’m the same prick that she thought I was nine years ago.

And B: We work together now. She might be on my level managerially, but ultimately, this company is going to be mine one day, so in an indirect way, that makes her an employee.

The door to Morgan’s office is open when I approach. She’s got her back to me, staring out the window.

Her office used to belong to Dennis Walsh. He was Deputy CEO. He died suddenly a year and a half ago of a heart attack. My parents never refilled his position, and his office has stood empty ever since. They just distributed his work between themselves and me. He’d worked for them forever, and he’d been a good friend to them, so it hit them hard, losing him. It hit us all hard.

So, it’s a little weird to see Morgan standing in here, in his office. I half-expect to hear the sound of Dennis’s big, booming laughter.

The office is bare, except for Dennis’s old desk and chair.

She’ll need new furniture.

“You like the view?” I say in a soft voice so as not to startle her.

I see her back stiffen at the sound of my voice, which isn’t a good sign, and then she looks at me over her shoulder before turning to face me.

“It’s stunning.”

So are you. The thought pops into my head out of nowhere.

But I’m right. She is stunning.

“You’re going to need new furniture.” I gesture to the sparse space.

Her eyes move around. “Yeah.”

“I’ll get my PA, Chrissy, to email you the link to the website of the office supplier we use. Just pick out what you need and let Chrissy know, and she’ll have it here for you when you start on Monday.”

“That’ll be great. Thanks.”

There’s a brief lull of silence between us.

“Has my mom mentioned anything about hiring a PA for you?” I ask her.

She nods. “Yes. Your mom lined up some interviews for me, so I should be sorted soon.”

“Good…great.”

We slip into that goddamn silence again.

I just need to say what I came here to say and then get out of here.

“Look, Morgan…” I rub a hand over my hair. “What happened earlier in my office…what you saw on the back of my shirt—”

“Is none of my business,” she cuts me off.

“I know, but I just want you to know that’s not the norm for me. I’m never usually late or unprofessional in that way. It was just…” I can’t exactly tell her that I was out, drinking at a bar, because I was freaking out over her starting work here and taking half of my job.

“Honestly, you don’t have to explain, Wilder.”

The way she says my name, it’s like hearing it for the first time. Sure, she must’ve said my name to me in college, but it never felt like this. Like a cattle prod to the spine, sparking my dick to life. Well, not that he seems to be asleep in her presence, but you know what I mean. Seriously though, I would have for sure remembered if hearing her say my name back in college made me feel that way. I’d have found a way to get her to like me, so I could have screwed her. Shallow bastard that I am.

“I think I do.” I take a breath. “I know that we didn’t get along great in college—”

“Didn’t we?” She tilts her head. The amusement dancing in her eyes surprises me.

I let loose a smile on my lips. “Come on, Morgan, we both know I wasn’t your favorite person back then, and you didn’t exactly make that fact unknown to me.”

She laughs, and the sound runs through my veins like alcohol in my bloodstream.

“Okay,” she concedes, “I didn’t like you. But you didn’t like me either.”

I cock my head. “I liked you just fine—well, in the beginning until you incorrectly decided that I was an overprivileged prick and started hating on me.”

The humor fades from her eyes, and I know I said the wrong thing and took us back a step.

She presses her lips together, like she’s holding back from saying something, and before whatever words she’s fighting back can get out, I jump in.

“Look, this isn’t coming out right.” I rub a hand over my face. “What I’m trying to say is, whatever happened back then or what we thought of each other doesn’t matter. We’re different people now. College was forever ago. Neither of us knows the 2017 versions of each other, and I would really like for us to wipe the slate clean and start fresh from here.”

“When you say ‘wipe the slate clean,’ do you mean, forget the sex note on the back of your shirt, too?”

“Jesus.” I shake my head. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

Her lips twitch, like she’s fighting a smile. “Probably not.”

“In all seriousness, I just want you to know that’s the first time anything like that has ever happened to me. It was just one of those screwup kind of days that happened on the worst day.”

Her brows knit together. “Me starting today is your worst day?”

“No!” Yes. Kind of. “No, I mean—”

“Wilder.”

“What?”

“I’m messing with you.” She smiles.

“Oh. Right. Okay.” I jam my hands in my pants pockets. “Well, anyway, I just want you to know that I am sorry for what happened before, and I do always keep my personal life away from work. I’m all business when I’m here.”

“Me, too,” she says.

“That’s good then—that we’re on the same page.” I free my hands from my pockets and walk toward her. My heart rate picks up, the closer I get to her.

She smells feminine, floral and sweet. Like a bouquet of flowers. I want to bury my head in her neck and taste that scent on the tip of my tongue.

I put my hand out to her. “Clean slate,” I say, staring straight into her big doe eyes.

She blinks once and then glances down at my hand before looking back up to meet me. She slips her hand into mine. Her hand is soft, and I’m desperately trying not to wonder how that hand would feel around my cock.

“Hi, clean slate. I’m Morgan Stickford.”

“Wilder Cross.” I grin and shake her hand, thinking that Morgan working here might not be the worst thing in the world after all.