Page 20 of Baby Bombshell for the Boss

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“There’s really nothing to tell,” Elliot told his friends forty-five minutes later over the first of what seemed likely to be many beers. “I hired her to design the office. That’s all it is.”

“I think she sounds hot,” Jacob said.

“You don’t even know what she looks like.” Elliot was increasingly exasperated by this. “How can you think she sounds hot?”

“Well, what does she look like?”

Elliot threw his hands up. “She looks like a regular woman! She has blond hair. She’s on the short side. Nice figure.”

Tucker whistled and Elliot glared at him.

“What color are her eyes?” Jacob asked.

“Green. Kind of an emerald color.”

The men all burst out laughing. “Yeah, you don’t have any feelings for this woman,” Jacob said dryly. “I couldn’t tell you what color my own wife’s eyes are!”

“Well, that tells me more about you than it tells you about me,” Elliot said. “Why don’t you know what color Monica’s eyes are?”

“Nah, you’re not changing the subject that easily,” Jacob said. “All right, blond hair and green eyes. Do you have a picture of her?”

“No, I haven’t got a picture of her! I’m not creeping on this woman, Jacob. She works for me.”

“All right, all right,” Tucker said. “He says there’s nothing between the two of them, so let’s drop it.”

Elliot was surprised, but grateful for his friend’s interference. “Thanks,” he said.

“No problem,” Tucker assured him. “And if you really want to put this whole issue to bed, I think the best thing for you to do is to prove you’re not interested in your designer by hooking up with someone else.”

“What?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jacob agreed. “You work so hard, Elliot. It must be ages since you’ve gotten any.”

“I do fine, thanks.”

“You’re trying to tell us you couldn’t go for a little action?”

“Okay, is it my birthday or something?” Elliot asked. “You’re all hyper-fixated on me, and it’s weird. Why don’t we try to hook Harris up with someone, if you’re looking to play wingman?”

“Because Harris can’t pull chicks,” Tucker said. “No offense, Harris.”

Harris shrugged. He probably was offended, and it wasn’t a joke Elliot would ever have made, but there was some truth to it. He tended to meet women online because the women at the bars this crowd liked to frequent went for rich guys, and Harris wasn’t in the right tax bracket. Jacob was married. Tucker had a boyfriend. When the three of them went out, invariably, Elliot was the one they tried to find women for. And most of the time, he was up for it.

“How about her?” Harris pointed.

The woman was blonde — not sandy blonde, like Ivy, but the kind of platinum that almost always comes out of a bottle. She wore a tight-fitting black dress and had a martini in one hand. She was gazing into the middle distance in a way that signaled to Elliot that she was probably interested in being approached. On a normal night, he’d have had no hesitation about going up to her and introducing himself.

Tonight he didn’t really want to do it.

“Why don’t we just have a quiet night?” he suggested. “Finish our drinks and then go home early — would that be so bad?”

His friends all groaned. “Are you serious, Elliot?” Harris asked.

“What’s the big deal if I want to keep it a guys’ night?”

“You used to be up for anything,” Tucker said.

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