I tried not to take it personally. Though most people liked to talk about themselves, it became immediately clear that Jack had literally no interest in discussing anything that wasn’t related to the work. And he was happy to talk about the work.

Which might have been fine if I understood a fraction of what he was talking about. As the day went on, I began to piece things together. Jack was the brains behind an eco-friendly tech company that specialized in transportation, specifically cars. In addition to Celero, he had a driverless car in the works, the details of which were very hush-hush.

“We need to perfect it before we start sharing any details with the press,” he told a meeting full of his engineers. “People are of two minds when it comes to technology like this. They like it but they’re terrified by it. We have to make sure it’s completely safe before we start rolling out anything official. One bad accident can set an advance like this back years.”

I followed him around all day, looking up articles and profiles on him whenever there was a lull between meetings or when he stepped away to talk one-on-one with his employees. From that I learned a lot more about Jack as a person.

He was a graduate of MIT – top of his class and valedictorian. He was known for his obsessive attention to detail and his inventive problem solving. He was thirty-two – which made him one of the youngest self-made millionaires in the country.

But more personal details were harder to find. At least it was difficult to find consistent details. Even Wikipedia was unable to confirm much about Jack’s life before MIT, and the current information out there seemed like a mix of exaggerated tabloid fodder and just plain fiction. For example, I was pretty sure he had not been in an orgy with several supermodels after the Oscars last year. Pretty sure, but not positive.

I glanced over at Jack, who was talking with Mrs. Reynolds. My gaze traveled down his broad, strong back to a really, really nice ass. There was no doubt in my mind that he could have an orgy with supermodels if that’s what he wanted, but from what little I had seen about his work ethic, it seemed unlikely he had much time for models or orgies. It stood out in stark contrast to the millionaire playboy image that was touted in the press.

“Getting all you need?” he asked me, gesturing for me to join him in his office.

“I think so,” I told him, sitting down in the same chair I had been sitting in hours ago. Amazing how that day had flown by. And how much had changed since that meeting. “But I would like to talk to you about what your expectations for the book are. That way I can get a better idea of who I need to talk to. Employees obviously, but are there family members I can interview?”

Jack held up a hand. “No family members,” he said.

“But–”

“No,” he repeated, his mouth set in a firm, unfriendly line.

Clearly I had unwittingly stumbled upon something he’d rather not discuss. Which made me curious. But I didn’t say anything. After all, he was the one paying me.

“Ok, so if I can’t talk to your family, are there any particular employees or colleagues that I should reach out to?”

“I’ll have Mrs. Reynolds give you a list,” he told me, glancing at his watch. “I think we’ve done enough for today.” The statement was brusque.

I might have learned a little something about Jack and his company, but I still had no idea what he wanted me to write about. Or what the schedule and deadline was.

“When are you expecting this book to be completed?” I asked.

“By Celero’s launch,” he told me.

I coughed. “But that’s in a month!”

He fixed me with an intense stare. It was one I was already becoming quite familiar with, and it continued to unnerve me. I squirmed under his gaze. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“It might be,” I told him, knowing full well that I wasn’t giving him the answer he needed. “Publishing is a slow process.”

“Don’t worry about publishing,” he said, flipping open his laptop. “All that concerns you is writing the book. Can you do that in the next three weeks?”

I wanted to say no. Because it was an insane, unreasonable deadline.

But it was also twenty thousand dollars. Followed by another forty thousand dollars. There was a lot I could do with that money. Such as pay off my student loans, not stress about rent, and get my cat the veterinary care he needed without sacrificing my own need to eat on a regular basis.

“Ms. Hanson?” Jack startled me out of my thoughts and I realized that I had been standing there, mentally going over all the ways the money would help me, all the while actually counting it out on my fingers.

“Are we going to have a problem?” The question and the look Jack gave me was the same one he had given to his employee that afternoon. And my answer was going to be the same as that young man’s.

“No,” I told Jack. “We aren’t going to have a problem at all.”

“Are you crazy?” Georgia asked me.

“Probably,” I confessed.

She was staring at me, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open. After my long day of following Jack around (and trying to keep myself from drooling over him), I needed a night out with my best friend. Or a mini-night out since I had agreed to meet Jack at 7:00am the following day to get a tour of his newest factory. So even though I had to be home and in bed by ten, I could still have one drink with Georgia and tell her that I had agreed to write a book in three weeks for a hunky millionaire.

But by the look on Georgia’s face, it was obvious that she was going to need more than one alcoholic beverage to process the insane day I had just had. If I hadn’t committed to getting up early tomorrow, I would be doing the same.

“Ok, you need to start at the beginning,” she told me.

“You mean the part where my best friend set me up for a job interview without providing details on who or what I was interviewing for?”

I wasn’t really mad at her. It was impossible to be mad at Georgia. We had been friends for years, and I knew she had my best interests at heart.

“I had no idea it was for Jack Willis!” She held up her hands.

“You know who he is?”

“You don’t?” She was agog. “Libby, you need to get your head out of the arts once in a while and see what is going on in the rest of the world.”

It was a common discussion between the two of us. Georgia appreciated my artsy-fartsy nature (her words, not mine), but she was the pragmatic one between the two of us. It was the reason she was still working at a well-paying job that she hated, living in a nice apartment with nice clothes, while I scrimped and saved but was generally happy with the work I did.

Part of me wondered if I was selling out a little by taking this job. I wasn’t particularly keen on large corporations, even ones as eco-friendly as Jack’s appeared to be, but I really, really, really needed the money. And even though Georgia – being the good friend that she was – had offered to loan me money on more than one occasion, I never felt comfortable taking money from friends.

I also didn’t feel comfortable starving or not being able to take care of my cat, so any fears about losing my “artsy-fartsy” street cred was going to have to take a back seat to basic necessity. And it was only three weeks. I could put aside my dislike of corporations for three weeks. I could also donate some of the money to my favorite charities.

If anything, it could serve as just another reminder of why I shouldn’t be lusting over Jack, no matter how strong his biceps were. We were too different. Something I was sure was blindingly clear to him.

I took a sip of my drink, disappointed to find that my glass was already empty. Dammit. I had planned to nurse it for at least an hour.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know who Jack Willis is.” Georgia threw up her hands again. “He’s only the most influential voice in tech right now. He’s a star. And a total fox.” She fanned herself dramatically.

“Well, I did notice that,” I told her, and her eyes widened.

“So he’s as beautiful in real life as he is in his pictures?” She leaned forward eagerly.

“More so,” I confirmed, thinking again of how well he filled out his suit. His dark hair and smoldering stare. Maybe some people found it intimidating but I just found it hot. Really, really hot.

Which was not my usual reaction at all. I never went for the aggressive, take-charge type. I tended to gravitate towards nice men. Quiet, polite men. Jack was nice but he certainly wasn’t quiet, and he wasn’t polite.

I had a feeling he wouldn’t be polite in the bedroom either. And I had a feeling that I wouldn’t mind that at all. I shivered just thinking about it – that intense stare of his, looking down at me as he pressed me into the bed. Or against a wall.

Georgia let out a sigh, interrupting my very inappropriate fantasies. “You are so lucky,” she said. “He’s the most sought after bachelor in New York. Everyone wants to be him. Or sleep with him. I fall into the ‘sleep with him’ category, obviously, and I’m very jealous that you’re going to be spending so much time with him.”

“Don’t be,” I took a deep breath. “Because nothing is going to happen. Beyond writing the book.”

“Maybe not.” She gestured to the bartender for another drink before I could tell her about my one drink limit. “But a girl can inappropriately fantasize, can’t she?”

Another martini was placed in front of me. Maybe I’d just nurse this one. After all, what was one more drink?

The bartender didn’t even look at me, but gave Georgia a dazzling smile. It was always like this when we went out together, so I was used to it. But it wasn’t always easy. I watched her glossy dark hair falling over one shoulder, and self-consciously touched my wild curls. Georgia always looked so put together in her skirts and blazers. She wore heels every day and never seemed in danger of falling over like I would if I ever attempted to walk around Manhattan in those stilettos. If she weren’t my best friend, I’d be totally jealous of her gorgeous hair and trim physique.

But today, it seemed like I was the one inspiring jealousy.

“Jack Willis is a damn sexy man. And you get to look at him all day. Every single woman in Manhattan would mow you down to get a chance to spend time with him,” Georgia was saying, downing her gin and tonic, and immediately gesturing for another one. “Lucky bitch,” she said with a smile and no venom.

“Yeah,” I winked at her. “That is a nice perk. The sexy man part, not the inspired jealousy of millions of women.”

“Both are pretty good perks, if you ask me,” Georgia clinked her empty glass against mine. “Ok,” she leaned in, “now start at the beginning. And don’t leave out any details. Physical details, that is. Start with his hair and just work downward. Slowly. Very, very slowly.”