Page 44 of Accidentally Amy

“Ohmigosh—I have to get back.” I pasted a grin on my face and took a step away from him, mortified. Obviously I’d been the only one on the verge of combustion, and I needed to get the hell out of there. My voice was too loud and perky when I said, “You may be able to take long lunches because you’re Mr. Fancy VP, but this lowly generalist has to be on time. I’m going to sprint back—I’ll see you later.”

His eyebrows went down again. “Iz—”

“Bye!” I turned and literally started slow jogging, knowing I looked like a moron but unable to stop myself because I needed to put space between myself and Mr. Chest.

All I wanted in my quiet little life was to keep my friend Blake and to embark upon a promising career at Ellis, but if those things were going to happen, I needed to find a way to be cool when I was close to him.

There had to be a way to speak to him without melting into an endorphin-riddled puddle of goo, right?

It wasn’t until I got back to the office, sweaty and still embarrassed, that I saw he’d sent a message.

Blake:I have a Plan B, Iz, so don’t freak out. Can I call you at six?

Plan B? What did that mean? I sighed and contemplated not responding, but texted,I’ll be dining with the Darkling, but I suppose he won’t mind if I take a call.

Blake:Excellent. Also, you looked VERY cool jogging through midtown in high-heeled boots, FYI.

Izzy:Oh, I know.

I logged back in to my computer and was just getting started on a head count report when my phone buzzed again.

Blake:I just found a marinara stain on my tie, so I think I’ve proven my point about spaghetti.

I smiled and shook my head, even though I was alone in my office.

Izzy:Serves you right—the whole thing was your fault (it didn’t have to be like that). I have an orange, Saturn-shaped stain on the center of my shirt, so your tie is child’s play. #CountYourBlessings

Blake:Have a good afternoon, Scooter’s Amy.

Izzy:Same to you, Mr. Chest.

Chapter Fourteen

Izzy

I took a bite of pizza, set down my plate, and lifted the ringing phone to my ear. “It’s five fifty-five—you’re early.”

“Want me to call back in five?” Blake asked.

I wiped my mouth with a napkin and said, “Nah, but you’re going to have to listen to me finish this last piece of pizza.”

“Pizza again?” He sounded amused. “It’s only been a few hours since your last piece.”

“Your point?”

“Forget it.”

The Darkling jumped onto my lap, and I ran a hand over his fluffy back. “What didyouhave for dinner, Phillips? A brick of kale? Fifteen chicken breasts?”

“Those are seriously your guesses?”

“I used to work with this super-swole guy, and he literally ate five chicken breasts every day.” I couldn’t remember his name, but one time he’d shown me a video of himself liftingweights, and then he’d been pissed when I laughed at the noise he made. But to be fair, it was a really weird noise. “He ate one breast during each fifteen-minute break, and three for lunch.”

“Do people still sayswole?”

“I don’t know, but they should.” I flipped onLittle Houseand said, “So I bet you had a veggie burrito and sweet potato tots.”

The deep, quiet laugh made me snuggle a little deeper into the sofa cushions. He said, “That’sreallyspecific.”

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