Kaylee stared at her computer, not seeing it. A little box sailed across the screen, leaving a rainbow-colored trail in its wake. The screensaver blacked out the Big Dick Escort Service website, in which the contact form had been pulled up.

“This is ridiculous,” she said under her breath, leaning back.

Her phone sat on her organized desk, between the report she’d just finished and the task list for the next day.

Thursday.

The day of the company dinner.

The image of Noah swam into her head. Extremely attractive, delicious body, preppy, and from good stock, Noah would fit right in. He’d tell the right kind of jokes, laugh when he needed to even if the joke wasn’t funny, and sell the image of them as a happy couple. She knew for a fact he could do it, and it wouldn’t matter that she had to wear shorter heels.

But for some reason, it just didn’t feel right. Something about pairing with him seemed off.

That was ridiculous. It had to be. But she couldn’t shake the feeling.

She tapped her mouse. The screensaver cleared and a handsome man filled her monitor. So tall he almost looked lean, though that powerful body had been pressed against hers, and it was all muscle. Smooth, easing from one place to the other like a wave. Relaxed in any setting.

His smoldering green eyes stared at her through the screen, making her squirm a little. That tiny smile, hinting at a joke shared between the sheets, set her body on fire.

She blew out a breath and looked away.

The man was as hot as sin, and entrancing as all hell. He’d drawn her in after one short dinner. Drawn her in and made her lose control of herself.

She had walked out of a restaurant and hopped into a prostitute’s car an hour after meeting him.

Then she’d endured someone else’s crazy family. She had a hard time with her own family, and had flaked on meeting the families of past boyfriends, but she’d stayed. Then the after-party…

A smile interrupted her thoughts.

That had been a pleasure. She liked those people—their vibe, their priorities, and how they treated her and each other. If she’d met Ethan in any other way, she would have asked if they could hang out with them again.

To top off the rather pleasant night, she’d tried to drag a prostitute into her house.

Her face burned and she minimized the website’s window.

How mortified could one person be? He’d had to push her inside and close the door on her. It was her house, and he’d shut the door in her face.

She wiped her forehead of the sudden sweat, embarrassment turning her stomach.

There was no way he’d want to go. No way. He’d probably worry he’d wake up in a bed somewhere, tied down.

“You still working?” Ben poked his head in the door of her office. His comb-over was a little frayed and his white five o’clock shadow gave his face a grizzled look.

He was another director. One who had been passed over for a promotion for years upon years. Clumsy, nerdy, and chubby, he was the office scapegoat. Yet he stayed. Kaylee had no idea why. His unkempt appearance aside, he was intelligent and insightful, often turning a clunky process into an efficient one.

He should’ve been rewarded ten times over. And when she became VP, she’d make sure it happened.

She leaned back in her chair and turned toward him. Ben was also the only person in the company she let herself relax with.

“Not really,” she said. “I’m stalling.”

“Oh yeah?” He took a step forward and leaned on the doorframe. Brown splats dribbled down his white shirt. Probably a coffee accident. Ben was known for his propensity to stain his white dress shirts. “What’s keeping you?”

She smiled. A man with a lovely wife and two daughters in their twenties, he was pretty good at reading subtle signals. “Nothing. A man. You know the song and dance.”

“You women created the song and dance.” He spread his hands and offered up a kind smile. “Men are simple creatures. If you think we’re keeping up, you’re wrong. My advice—just tell him what you want. It’s that simple. Tell him what you want, and be prepared to walk away if you don’t get it. You’re too smart to stick around with someone not worthy of you. As soon as my wife learned that, my days of sitting peacefully on the couch while she did everything for me ended.” He twisted his mouth and shook his head. “I sure miss those days.”

Kaylee laughed.

“Unless he’s a fool—and I can’t imagine you’d have that twinkle in your eyes for a fool”—he straightened up—“he’ll come around. Believe me.”

“I think you’ve forgotten what it is to be rejected and embarrassed, Ben.”

“I’m embarrassed in this job at least twice a day. And that’s on a good day.” He pointed at his stained shirt. “Trust me. Just tell him what you want.” He smiled once more and headed off down the hall.

Ben’s advice was great…if this were a normal situation in which she was dating someone rather than paying him to chaperone her.

“Tell him what I want. What do I want?” she said softly, glancing at the clock.

The VP job. And a partner to help her get it.

She pulled up the website for BD.

---

Three hours later, Kaylee’s phone vibrated.

She slowed down on her elliptical, one of a few pieces of exercise equipment in her house, and pulled her phone out of the pouch in her hoodie. Her screen was lit up with the song, but she hadn’t received a text message.

After getting back to the home screen, she saw a red two over the email app. OCD about emails, she tapped the icon as the song changed, a fast hip-hop tune that egged her on.

The email was from BD Escort Services.

Her heart started to pound. Possible rejection and extreme embarrassment were mere seconds away.

We sincerely apologize, but we are not able to accommodate you for your event. Please try back at a later date, or add yourself to the wait list.

Her heart sank and tears came to her eyes. Clearly he was worried that he’d wake up in a bathtub full of ice, missing an organ. Or in a well, shivering while she yelled down at him about lotion and baskets.

She shook her head and stuffed her phone back into the pouch. It didn’t matter. It had been a long shot, anyway. He was too relaxed. Too blasé about everything. He’d make the wrong impression—maybe even get her fired instead of promoted. She would be fine on her own. She always had been.

Tears still pressing at her eyes, she resumed her workout. Her phone vibrated again, but she ignored it, pushing harder, trying to work through the pain.

On the faux-date, he’d seemed so sure she would call him for the company dinner. That his weird surprise and supposedly creepy antics wouldn’t dissuade her from contacting him again.

He’d been right. The problem was, he hadn’t expected her to get handsy. She’d put no contact on the initial form, after all. She’d agreed not to touch him. Yet she’d wrapped herself around his neck like a human necklace and tried to drag him into her lair. He was probably so tired of women throwing themselves at him. With a face and body like that, he would need to fight off waves of female admirers every day.

She pumped the pedals faster, past tired and still close to crying. It was completely irrational, but her heart ached. She felt horribly, unbearably lonely.

Her phone vibrated again and she rolled her eyes. The clock on the machine read one hour and fifteen minutes. She’d gone fifteen minutes longer than normal. She’d be sore for the dinner.

Super.

She staggered off the elliptical and brought out the accursed phone so as to pull out the cord for her headphones. The screen lit up and two text messages waited from an unknown number.

She frowned and swiped one to the side, pulling it up.

Dear Miss Kick-Ass Lady, I would love to help you lock down that VP position. Her stomach flipped and air filled her lungs. Her smile probably lit the whole room. But you’re delusional if you think you’re paying for it. Text me the details. Or call. Anytime.

Her heart attempted to break through the cage of her ribs. She felt like she was having a cardiac arrest.

The next message made her smile so hard her face might’ve cracked. I’m at Colton’s. If you want, come over. The girls want to talk strategy as an excuse to work on your alcohol tolerance.

Kaylee was outside and locking her front door so fast that she had to check if she’d remembered to grab her purse in the process of rushing out. It wasn’t until she was in front of Colton’s door, her finger poised over the doorbell, that she hesitated.

Her makeup was probably halfway down her face. Her gray men’s sweats, the only ones that fit her long legs, lumped around her body like a potato sack. Hair fell around her face, but not because it was down. Several tendrils had just escaped the bun and hairspray, dangling in a stiff sort of way. She didn’t have a mirror, but she knew the score. She’d seen herself after plenty of workouts.

“Shit.” She looked around like a burglar. But really, where would she find a mirror on the outside of the house? Bringing her phone up, she saved Ethan’s info, then texted him. Knock knock. Who’s there? A girl that needs another girl to answer Colton’s door. Thx.

Biting her lip, she waited for a moment, hoping he had his phone handy. It had been half an hour since he’d sent the text message, after all. Maybe he had set it down and wandered away.

A moment later, the door swung open without warning, making her bend her knees into a crouch, ready to sprint away. Her flight reflex was strong.

A smile spread across Madison’s face. “Had a few parties busted up by the cops, have you?”

Kaylee straightened up with a laugh. “Am I that obvious?”

“Oh yeah.” Madison’s gaze drifted down Kaylee’s body. “It looks like you’ve been running.”

“Uh…yeah. I was working out when I got Ethan’s text.”

“Like…” Madison’s brow furrowed and she looked out at the quiet street. “You were running at nine o’clock at night? In the dark?”

“No. I have an elliptical machine. Although…” Kaylee looked behind her. “I certainly have run at nine, or later, around here. Who’s going to get me? A pudgy, middle-aged guy ready for a heart attack?”

“A young guy looking to rob rich people?”

Kaylee shrugged. “I have training.”

“Technically so do I, but all I seem to do is fall backward with karate-chop hands. I should really do those classes again.”

“No joke,” came from within the house.

Madison glanced behind her before turning. “Really? You were too lazy to answer the door on your own, but now you get up?”

Janie appeared in the doorway, shoving Madison to the side. A smile drifted up her face. “Holy shit, look at you. If you weren’t so goddamn pretty, you’d look like a wreck.”

“She’s prettier looking like this,” Madison said.

Janie tilted her head to the side and her eyes went distant. “She is. Very much so. Huh.”

Madison frowned at her friend before shaking her head and turning back to Kaylee. “What do you need? Dirt on Ethan? Because we’ve got it.”

“No—” Kaylee narrowed her eyes, and tried with all her might to ignore the offer. “No—” She clenched her jaw, but it didn’t help in the end. “What dirt?”

Janie pointed at Kaylee’s face and looked at Madison. “She likes him! She wants to know what she’s getting into. So that means she likes him.”

Madison put out a straight arm and pushed her friend into the wall in a sudden show of violence. Janie bounced off, unscathed and clearly unaffected. “Ethan is weird, strangely irresistible, and he’d cut off an arm for a friend in need…but only after he annoyed the shit out of them while simultaneously making them smile. I wouldn’t go there. His OCD would drive me batty.”

“You’re with Lionel. You wouldn’t go anywhere,” Janie said.

“Wait…” Kaylee racked her brain. “Lionel? I thought his name was Colton?”

Madison rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same.

“Never mind. It’s Colton, yes.” Janie went back to staring vaguely at Kaylee.

“Anyway…” Madison gave her a firm look that had Kaylee’s back straightening. The woman was in slippers, yoga pants, and a loose sweatshirt, yet she looked effortlessly commanding.

“Teach me,” Kaylee said without meaning to. “I could wear flats with that look.”

Madison’s brow scrunched, and Janie’s eyes tore away from Kaylee’s face to focus on her friend. “Oh. That,” Janie said. “That’s her business look.” Back to looking at Kaylee, she said, “But seriously, what do you need?”

Kaylee waved her hand in front of her face. “Do I have makeup all over?”

“Yes,” they both answered.

Kaylee stared at them for a moment. “Well? Where?”

Madison looked behind her. “Let’s sneak her into a bathroom. I am not about to lick my finger and fix this mess.”