Page 2 of Baby Bombshell for the Boss

She headed out the door, anxious now to get back to her apartment, pop the cork, and put on some reality TV. She was moving quickly, not really watching where she was going, when she rounded the corner onto her street?—

And collided head-on with a man.

The collision was forceful enough that she lost her grip on the bottle of Merlot. It fell to the pavement and smashed.

Ivy gasped, dismayed. She’d been so looking forward to that wine. It would probably have been the best part of her day. And she could go back and buy another bottle, of course, but it had been expensive, and besides, she was almost home now. Irritation surged through her — who the hell was this guy? Why didn’t he look where he was going?

She looked up at him, ready to tell him off, and stopped.

He was gorgeous.

He wore a perfectly fitted dark blue suit that showed off every hard line of his body. His dark hair was swept back and immaculately cut. He was about a head taller than Ivy, with lightly tanned skin and dark blue eyes that reminded her of the night sky. She swallowed hard, trying to remind herself that she was angry with him, that she had lost her wine because of him.

“Oh my God,” the man said. “I’m so sorry about that.”

Ivy blinked. That wasn’t what she had expected. “No, it was my fault,” she said, surprising herself again. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Well, neither was I,” the man said. “I didn’t mean to make you drop your bottle.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

“My name’s Elliot,” he said. “Elliot Livingston.”

“Ivy.”

“Will you let me buy you a new bottle, Ivy?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said quickly.

“I really feel like I should. You lost that one because of me, and I do want to help you out,” he said. “There’s a wine shop a little way over there. If you’ll let me, I’ll walk you over and replace it.”

“You really don’t have to,” she said. “It wasn’t like I was bringing it to a party or anything. I was taking it home to drink in front of the TV.” She blushed. Why had she told him that? It didn’t make her sound particularly impressive.

Was she trying to impress him?

He laughed, and not in an unkind way. “I can relate to that,” he assured her. “The end of the work week?”

“Yeah. And I’m new to the city,” she explained. “I’m still adjusting.”

“Ah. And I’m guessing you don’t have many friends here yet.”

“Well, no.”

“That makes sense, then. I was wondering why such a good-looking woman was going home to drink alone on a Friday night. But if you’re new to the city, of course you wouldn’t know anyone yet.”

“Have you lived here a long time, then?”

“All my life,” Elliot said.

“You’re kidding.”

“Is it so hard to believe?”

“Well, no — I’m just surprised that a native New Yorker could be as friendly as you’re being,” she said, feeling her cheeks grow hot as she said it. “I didn’t know if the stereotype about New Yorkers being hostile was true or not, but I have to admit, I haven’t met that many kind people since I’ve been here.”

“Yeah, there’s some truth to it,” Elliot said. “I try not to be that way, though. And I won’t pretend that meeting someone as beautiful as you doesn’t make it easier to remember to be my best self.”

Ivy blushed even harder. She had no idea what to say in response to that. She felt deeply flattered by his compliments, and it was wonderful to have someone she found so attractive return the sentiment. But she also didn’t know what kind of response would be appropriate.

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