I spend the next few days burying myself in work to get my mind off Reagan. She’s away on a two-day trip with my mother, so not seeing her has helped me concentrate. Even though it’s killing me since I haven’t seen her or heard her voice. It doesn’t even matter because each time we were together she was giving me her normal hell.

I look out onto the streets of Chicago, shifting in my seat, wondering if there’s any way to get her out of my head.

My phone vibrates on my desk, grabbing my attention, and when I look at the message from Skylar, I quickly open it.

Skylar: I’m in town for a few days. Let’s grab dinner.

Skylar and I have a friendly relationship. She understands I don’t want anything more, and in turn, I give her what she wants.

One night whenever she’s in town.

Me: Meet you at Catch 35. 7 p.m.

Skylar: Always the romantic. See you then.

Since Jennifer has Dawson on Thursday nights, it gives me time to take Skylar out.

The rest of the day goes slow, and I leave the office a few hours early, hoping to get work done when I’m in my home office rather than being here.

I step into the elevator of my building and wait for the car to reach my floor. As I step out of the elevator, I open the door to my apartment and head straight to my office. Before rebooting my laptop, I head to the bar and pour a glass of scotch. Once at my desk, I open the report I need, and an email from Reagan pops up.

To: Andrew Powers

From: Reagan Halloway

Good afternoon, Andrew.

Miranda would like me to remind you about dinner tonight at Alinea. It’ll be at 6:30. Our flight will be landing at 4:15pm. Vincent will be picking us up. See you tonight.

Have a nice day.

Reagan Halloway

Assistant to Miranda Powers, CEO of Powers Financial

I read the email and send her a response.

To: Reagan Halloway

From: Andrew Powers

Reagan,

Thank you for the email. I will meet her there promptly at 6:30. Hope you’re enjoying California. Have you gotten a chance to walk on the beach? Do any sightseeing?

Andrew Powers

CFO of Powers Financial

To: Andrew Powers

From: Reagan Halloway

California is lovely. The first day we were here, Miranda showed me around. But, since then, we’ve been non-stop busy so I haven’t had too much of a chance to sightsee.

Reagan Halloway

Assistant to Miranda Powers, CEO of Powers Financial

To: Reagan Halloway

From: Andrew Powers

Maybe, next time, I can take you, and we’ll have a chance to explore. I’ve always loved California, especially the beaches.

Andrew Powers

CFO of Powers Financial

There’s no immediate response from Reagan, and I push her silence out of my head. After all, we’re not friends or acquaintances. She’s an employee of the company, and I shouldn’t mix business and pleasure. It always ends badly.

I check my email again for safe measure before going back to the report that needs my attention. After going through the numbers and making comments to have Remy check my research, I veer to Outlook, and there’s still nothing from her.

What the fuck’s wrong with me? Why can’t I get this woman out of my head?

Her long auburn hair and pouty lips flash in my mind. Those intoxicating eyes and that damn smile. Images of her full lips wrapped around my cock gets me semi hard.

“Fuck,” I mutter, pushing myself away from my desk.

I take my glass of scotch to the sofa in my office. While taking a slow drink of the caramel-colored liquid, I pull out my phone and let Skylar know we’ll need to reschedule for a different time.

Skylar: Too bad.

I don’t respond.

I leave my glass on the table and stand, walking out of my office and to my bedroom.

“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath.

My head’s a fucking clusterfuck mess of auburn hair and pouty lips. I think about her expression each time we’ve talked. The way her breathing accelerates when I’m near her or the way she confidently stands up to me.

I groan when my body hits the bed with my full hard-on. After I unbutton my pants, I slide my hand down beneath the waistband of my boxers and grip my hard cock. I’m thinking about Reagan’s soft tits pressed against me and her creamy skin touching mine. The desire in her eyes when I tell her I want to fuck her until she moans my name and forgets about all the other men she’s been with.

My grip tightens, and I imagine her lips wrapped around my cock. The warmth of her mouth sucking me off while she massages my balls, letting out little moans, as she looks up at me with heat in her eyes. In my mind, she’s giving me the best blow job. When I bring her naked body up and flip her onto her back on my bed, I slide my hard cock inside her, feeling her cover me as I’m filling her wet pussy.

“Fuck,” I let out as spurts of hot cum land on my shirt, releasing my pent-up sexual need for Reagan. My breath slows, and I look for the closest thing I can use to clean myself up.

It’s perfectly normal to jack off in the middle of the afternoon to my mother’s personal assistant.

Fuck me. I’m a mess.

* * *

The cab drops me off at Alinea, and I walk in, letting the hostess know the reservation. She guides me toward the back of the restaurant, in the corner, and I immediately notice Reagan in her cream-colored dress and deep red heels. The images of her beneath me with her long legs wrapped around my waist fill my head.

“Reagan,” I say, getting her attention. Our eyes lock. “Where’s my mother?”

“She said she was coming with you and for me to meet her here.”

“Um, no. I haven’t talked to her since this morning, and she never mentioned anything about tonight until you emailed me.”

“What the hell?” she mutters under her breath, followed by a curse word.

“Now, now. No need to get bent out of shape. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. I’ll call over our server. What kind of wine do you like?”

“I don’t drink.”

“At all?” I raise my brow, remembering she mentioned this very thing once before. I truly thought it was her way of being difficult, but here we are again, revisiting the same topic.

“Nope, not at all.”

“Okay then. I’ll stick with water tonight as well.”

She waves off what I said. “Don’t do that on account of me.”

“It’s okay. I had scotch before coming tonight, so I’m fine. Since we’re sharing dinner without any other distracting company, tell me more about yourself.”

“There’s not much to tell. After graduation, I did some traveling until I reconnected with my best friend, Aimee, and landed a job at your company.”

Arching my brow, I stare into her beautiful eyes. “You seem very closed off, as if you have a wall to block off who you really are.”

“Nope. No wall. This is me. Simple and nothing extraordinary.”

“I disagree.”

“With?”

“I think you’re full of surprises. You certainly keep me on my feet, and I enjoy our daily arguing.”

She checks her phone and watch, taking slow sips of her water and looking everywhere but at me. The uncomfortable demeanor she carries has me letting go of wanting to know more about her. Instead, I remain cool and collected.

Our first course, a salad with the chef’s special soup, comes out, and I silently watch her as she eats.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“No reason,” I tell her. “You seem like you’re in a rush. Am I keeping you from someone?”

She eyes me and puts down her fork. “There’s no someone in my life.”

An internal sigh releases. I’m glad there’s no one. No boyfriend. No fiancé or husband. But then I wonder how someone as beautiful and smart as she is doesn’t have a man at home, impatiently waiting for her to crawl into bed with him.

Before either of us says anything more, I see Jennifer and Dawson walking to our table with the hostess.

Immediately, I get up and walk the few steps to them. “Jennifer? What’s going on?”

“I got called for an important show. I have no other choice but to leave tonight in order to arrive on time to prepare,” she explains. She looks at Reagan. “I thought you had a business meeting with your mother.”

“She canceled.” I look at Jennifer and then back to Reagan. I should introduce them, but really I’d like Jennifer to leave. “Reagan, this is my ex-wife, Jennifer. Jennifer, this is my mother’s new assistant.”

Jennifer eyes Reagan and doesn’t say anything. She can eye her all she wants, but it stops there. Her venom will get nowhere near Reagan; I will make sure of that. If she starts anything at the restaurant, in front of Dawson, I’ll end it.

“Nice to meet you, Reagan.”

“You as well.”

Jennifer turns to me again. “I’m sorry to do this.”

Her voice sounds sincere, and I bite back my annoyance.

Her job is just as important as mine, I remind myself.

“Okay. Keep me updated.”

“Thanks so much, Drew.” She leans over to kiss my cheek before kneeling down and hugging Dawson, whispering that she loves him and will see him soon.

I hold back my eye roll. This is all for show. She never considers Dawson’s feelings or cares about thanking me.

Once she leaves, Dawson sits next to Reagan and looks up at her with a smile.

“Are you and my dad on a date?”

She smiles. “No, sweetie. We’re talking about work.”

“Oh. Well, you should date my dad. He’s really the best. I overheard my mom telling her best friend that Dad’s the best she ever had.”

I nearly choke on my water and see Reagan’s cheeks blush from Dawson’s admission.

“Dawson,” I warn him.

“What?” he asks innocently.

I choose distraction instead of trying to explain why he should leave the topic alone.

“Have some soup, and please stop talking about what your mother has said about me.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. He turns to Reagan and tells her about his day. She intently listens and says all the right things at all the right times. Something between them pulls me closer, and if I’m being honest, seeing her with my son brings me a weird sense of comfort.

I watch the way Dawson’s with Reagan and how she’s actively listening, taking in everything he’s saying. Some women pretend to show interest in children or to show off but not Reagan. She’s genuine, and she’s enjoying the conversation with Dawson.

“You know, I also like learning about animals,” I try to interject myself into their conversation.

Both stop and turn to look at me.

“What? I do.”

“Dad, you hate the zoo.” Dawson laughs.

“I do not,” I try to defend myself.

I observe the way Reagan is with Dawson. The fact that I want her to talk to me the way she’s talking to him is bothering me. I’m positive she hates me. With the shit I’ve put her through, I’m sure she’d love nothing more than to see a semi truck run me over.

I continue watching her and notice the way her body tenses, as if she knows my eyes and attention are solely on her. I’ll give her credit; she knows how to stand on her own feet and handle herself. Most women would push their way and make it known they wanted me.

When she turns and sees me smiling at her, staring at her, taking her all in, the blush in her cheeks deepens and she hides the smile from me. I’m used to this reaction from women, and usually, I pay it no mind. When women hear my name or know where I’ll be, they make it their mission to impress me so I’ll take them home. They only want me for what I can do for them. They want sex, money, and status.

Not Reagan. She’s rare, something precious, and once I have her, there’ll be no reason to go back to fake and plastic.