Cassandra swiveled in her chair at the agency headquarters, staring blankly at her computer screen. She’d opted to work from the office today because Veeda and Nasir were scheduled to meet for dinner. Without the inquisitive glances of her coworkers and boss, she might not be able to stay on track at home and left to her own devices. Most Fridays, working from home wasn’t a problem.

But today? She’d had nerves as jumpy as a cat. Mind sliding back to Nasir’s date with a morbid curiosity, wishing these things could be live streamed. Just so she’d know: did they hit it off?

By seven p.m., she wondered if his and Veeda’s date was taking the same turn hers had. Warming conversation, a surprise plate of oysters, and then a furtive dance of seduction. Sadness rippled through her. She wanted Nasir. But it was too late now. Between her job, the ethics, and the very sorry way she’d wrapped things up with him…there was no hope.

The way he’d treated her at the meet-and-greet made it more than obvious. She’d ruined any chance with him, which should have been a relief, but instead, it was a puddle of regret.

Her phone dinged with a new text message, and she scrambled to get it, breath catching in her throat when she saw the message came from Nasir. Was he in her head somehow? Could he tell she’d be desperate to know about his date?

“I’d like to schedule a meeting with you. Please let me know when you’re free.”

She sank into her office chair, letting the phone slip away. Veeda—they must have matched perfectly. Or it had been a horrible match and he was ready to view more options. Hope sparked to life. She leaned forward to consult the planner splayed open on her desk and typed out a fast message.

“I have Monday evening free, or next Friday.” Though what she really wanted to suggest was NOW. It would be wiser to give it some time. So she could let the news of this pregnancy sink in, and find her footing when it came to the future.

Nasir’s response came lightning fast. “Monday. Where? Dinner?”

Anxiety made a bilious knot in her stomach. Or maybe that was just the pregnancy. His baby. She gnawed at the inside of her lip, debating her response. On the one hand, she’d love dinner with him again. On the other, where would it lead? “Maybe something less formal.”

A few moments passed before he wrote back. “There’s a business bar near my building. We could meet there for a drink once we’re both off.”

She grimaced. Not with a growing baby inside her. “No, I’m not sure I’m in the mood for drinks.”

Her phone was silent for a few more moments, and she could almost see him tapping his fingers on a desk somewhere, contemplating a suggestion. “Let’s do my apartment building. I’m tired of running around lately, to be honest. There’s a meeting room there, so please don’t read into it.”

She nodded, liking the way this idea settled into her. A perfect bridge between work and indulgence. She’d get to see him in his natural habitat—or close enough to it—and she could claim it was within bounds of a typical client follow-up. “Sounds fine. What time?”

The following evening, when Cassandra packed up her things to head home for the weekend, she wished she’d made the meet-up a bit sooner. Waiting until Monday would be agonizing. She wanted to see him now. Even if all she got to do was absorb that serious energy, or bathe in the luxurious sweep of his gaze.

Nasir was easily the most gorgeous man she’d laid eyes on…and for the briefest time, she’d felt like maybe they could fit together. That was before discovering the truth about what he wanted in life, so she should be glad for that knowledge.

Not mopey and regretful.

They never would have even stood a chance together long-term. And she’d do well to remember that.

* * *

Nasir spent the whole weekend buried in work, the only recourse he had against impatience for Monday to arrive. By Sunday night, he couldn’t sleep for anxiety—imagining what he might say to Cassandra, how he’d ease into relaxed conversation, practicing it all in front of a mirror as he got ready on Monday morning, as if he were a teenager again.

Somewhere in the fits and starts of light sleep the night before, he’d decided to leave work early and prepare the penthouse for her arrival. A special touch. He’d promised the meeting room, but actually he’d make dinner for her. Himself. He fussed over his hair for a long time in the morning, working out the menu. When he strolled into the tenth floor of his office building that day, his secretary Brenda arched a brow.

“Good morning.” She scrambled to her feet, scooping up a pile of papers at the corner of her desk. “My, you look different this morning.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, receiving the stack of papers. “Do I?”

She nodded, flushing. “You look…more handsome than usual.”

He sniffed, nodding. “Good.” He strode into his corner office, sunlight streaming in from both window-covered walls. It was toasty in there, just how he liked it, and he settled behind his desk to listen to voice-mails.

The first one was from Asim. His smooth tenor reverberated through the office on speaker phone. “Hey brother, call me when you can. I’ve got an update on the newest investor. Elena and Eleanor say hello. Well, Eleanor not really, because she’s still learning, but you know what I mean.”

Nasir smiled, sad that the message ended, making way for something more business-oriented. He hadn’t seen his first and only niece since she was three months old. The child changed and grew at an alarming rate. He’d have to work in a visit to Beirut very soon.

Cassandra and Elena would get along so well.

The thought shivered through him like a scandalous whisper. He and Cassandra might have had a sizzling connection, but it didn’t mean he needed to start introducing her to the family. Even though mother already loved her…

Nasir shifted in his seat, realizing he’d missed the entire second voice-mail. He restarted it, leaning closer, like maybe the higher volume would drown out his thoughts. The monotonous voice of an executive from the Middle Eastern office rang through with some new complaints about Basri. Nasir sighed, burying his face in his hand—his youngest brother was always dropping the ball, and he’d received that office simply because it was the easiest. Father had known his youngest brother wasn’t cut from the same business cloth as the rest of them, which was precisely why he’d left the easiest branch to Basri before he passed.

The morning snowballed from there, small emergencies cropping up like ornery weeds one after the other. By lunchtime, Nasir had smoothed over everything to the best extent possible, and he poked his head through his office door to look at Brenda.

“Cancel my appointments for the afternoon. I’m taking the rest of the day off.”

Brenda’s eyes widened as if he’d suggested he was dissolving the company. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I’m taking the rest of the day off.” He paused. “And so should you.”

“Are you okay? Are you ill?”

Nasir narrowed his eyes at her. “Why would you suggest that?”

“Because you never take off work. Or let me go early, for that matter.”

Nasir smiled briefly. “Well, enjoy it. I’ll see you back here tomorrow morning.”

He strode back into his office to collect his phone and briefcase before locking up for the day. His hand stilled over the phone, realizing the salmon-and-potatoes dinner he’d been planning would be impossible without groceries. His pantry was a desert. He snatched up the device, swiping to the personal grocer app, scrolling through the options.

“You know…” Brenda’s voice cut through his online grocery shopping. He swiveled to face her. “Whatever made you look more handsome today, you should keep it up.” She winked at him. “Sounds like maybe you’ve got something good going in your off time.”

He grinned, and she gave him a little side-eye at the unusual expression. “Just trying to reach that work-life balance they’ve been talking about for years.”

Brenda waved at him, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I hope you find it. See you tomorrow.”

Nasir made quick work of submitting the grocery request. The app estimated a delivery time in just a few hours. Enough time for him to get home and get things ready for her arrival.

It was perfectly natural to want to receive a business meeting with a fresh-cooked meal and a well-prepared penthouse. He had to be careful to toe the line between business and personal. Not to overstep her boundaries, but also to make it plain that he desperately wanted this to become personal again.

Back at his penthouse, Nasir took a shower and changed into more comfortable slacks—on the side of business casual—and a polo shirt, making sure the top buttons hung open. He spritzed on his favorite cologne, taking the extra time in front of the mirror again, and then assessed the penthouse from the farthest corner.

While the décor was cutting edge—jagged, black swipes of paint framed by repurposed steel pipes, everything illuminated by industrial-chic lighting—the place was decidedly lived-in. His maid only came once a week anymore to tidy up and clean the bathrooms, since he was here so infrequently.

The couch was a mess of pillows and scattered papers. Folders and coffee mugs completely consumed the coffee table, which was a cross-section of an enormous tree trunk, rescued from a northern California wood-chip processing company and shellacked. Nasir liked his home space to be an interesting and tidy reflection of himself, somewhere between up-scale hotel and primly organized board room. But looking at it all now, he couldn’t imagine what Cassandra might think of it all. If it would entice her, or maybe be so foreign and strange that it became unappealing. He should probably do something about the clutter, though.

The front door jiggled and then opened; he turned with a creased brow to demand who would enter his apartment so brazenly, until he saw his maid, Nilda, step through. He relaxed; it had been so long since they’d run into each other at his penthouse, he forgot she came on Mondays around noon.

“What a surprise!” Nilda beamed at him, shutting the door behind her. “Or maybe there’s bad news, if you’re home from work so early. I hope it’s nothing bad.”

He went over to her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “Nothing bad, I promise you. I’m actually here to prepare for a dinner.”

Nilda arched an eyebrow, setting her purse on a chair in the foyer. “What sort of dinner requires this much preparation?”

He blinked. “Well, I’ll be cooking it.”

Her eyes widened. “You cook?”

“Yes, of course.” He went back to the living area, collecting the scattered folders. “My mother taught me. I used to be at her side constantly in the kitchen.”

Nilda chuckled, heading for a closet door where the majority of the cleaning supplies were kept. “I can just see that. You at Safiya’s side.” Safiya had been around enough to get to know Nilda quite well. The two had a fondness for each other. “Always the mama’s boy.”

Nasir laughed, taking his coffee mugs to the sink. “It served me well. I know how to use a knife and make tabbouleh. What more could a woman ask for in a man?”

“Ah.” Nilda clucked her tongue, bringing the mop bucket into the kitchen to fill at the sink. “So this isn’t a business dinner tonight; you’re wooing a woman.”

Nasir stilled his tongue, wondering what he should even say about the dinner that night. I invited the first woman I’ve fallen for in years to my house under the ruse of a business meeting. “Something like that.”

Nilda winked. “If you need my help with dinner, just let me know. You’ll know where to find me…and then I’ll be out of your hair before she gets here.”