Page 17 of VOGUEish

“Boo. Hiss. What about your resolution to make fun choices?” There was a challenge to Chloe’s tone.

“It is still very much in play, but not with him.”

“Why not him?”

“Because what happens when things go south?” She wanted this job to be her final new career. For a while anyway.

“You’d get a good tongue-produced orgasm, and it’s not like he’s going to be your forever boss.”

Isabella moved the phone to her other hand so she could look at her watch. Flats. Her lunch break had ended five minutes ago. “While he’s temporary, he has the power to fire me. One wrong move, and he’ll send me packing.” She hurriedly gathered her stuff and rushed down the sidewalk toward the Randolph Building.

“Yes, but the benefit of him being a temp is no harm can come of you guys enjoying a consensual fling.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

“And you sound out of breath. What’s wrong?”

“I’m late. The stupid clocks at NR are ten-minutes fast, and I forgot about that until just now.”

“Okay, I’ll let you go, but first tell me you’ll seduce him when the time is right.”

“I’ll make no such promises.”

“What I’m hearing is you’ll think about it?” Chloe said.

Isabella rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll think about it.” It wasn’t a horrible idea. A tryst with him might go a long way in helping her unearth the woman she could have been had it not been for what life had thrown at her over the years.

CHAPTER FIVE

When Isabella rounded the corner of the Randolph Building, her steps faltered. The man occupying her sexual imagination stood like a sentinel in front of the entry. He pointedly glanced at the watch on his wrist.

“Oh. Hey.” She tried to sound casual as she focused on his nose. One simply couldn’t look one’s boss in the eyes when one had just minutes earlier been thinking of him in terms of tongue sex.

“Follow me.” Impatience radiated out of him like heat from a fractured furnace.

She did, inhaling a whiff of his cologne. Dang, he smelled good. Like a slice of the naughty side of paradise. And now that she thought about it, the fragrance wasn’t unfamiliar.

Someone else in her life had worn that cologne. But who? Maybe a professor. Or any number of men she’d stood next to over the years while waiting on the subway. Except for this morning’s body-odor guy.

Chandler led them toward an elevator with no buttons. Just a place for someone to swipe a card, which he did. She assumed it was a private lift for the elite in the building. While she stood against the back wall and waited for the door to close, several of those present from this morning’s meeting walked by. Isabella waved. Only Ziggy acknowledged her wave with a tiny little wink.

What were they thinking? That she and Chandler had gone to lunch together? She should probably put thoughts of trysting with him on the backburner. While learning to let her walls down was an important goal, it didn’t come close to trumping the need to fit in at the magazine. She’d lived the life of the misfit, the outcast, the unwanted in high school. No way did she want to be that person at her hopefully forever job.

Chandler remained silent while they were whisked to the seventeenth floor. Was his silence meant to unnerve her? Make her sweat? That much he accomplished. She awkwardly held her arms out from her sides and flattened her palms on the cool wall. She didn’t want pit stains on her borrowed sweater, a pink Dolce & Gabbana with a tiger printed on its front.

At his office, he unlocked the door, took a step back, and motioned her inside. At exactly two and one-quarter steps inside, she noticed the sticky note that had earlier been stuck to his shoe lying on the floor. She jerked to a stop and leaned down to snatch it up. He did not get the memo to stop and plowed into her from behind. Unfortunately, the intimate action sent her tumbling headfirst toward the carpeted floor.

Luckily, an arm snaked out and caught her around the waist before her head contacted the ground.

“Do you make it a habit of falling multiple times a day?” he growled into her ear.

She quickly untangled herself from his arms and spun around to face him. Why was her body all tingly? “Not as a rule.” Although it wasn’t unheard of. She crumpled the sticky note and stuffed it in her pocket.

“Make yourself comfortable.” His voice was gruff. “I’ll be right back.”

Cheeks flaming, Isabella nodded. She took a seat in one of the two purple chairs and leaned her neck against the cool leather. At this rate, she probably should invest in one of those portable fans to carry around to keep her body at a survivable temperature when around him.

From her awkward angle, she glanced around the office. She hadn’t noticed the massive room’s decor earlier. Or if she had, nothing had registered. There weren’t a lot of personal touches. Nothing to clue her in to his personality when he wasn’t running meetings or firing people. How long had he been here?

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