Page 58 of Accidentally Amy

I ordered my coffee, swiped my card, and moved over to the waiting area. Josh had dropped me off because I hadn’t wanted to ride the bus with my overnight bag, the bag I was hauling towork with me because I was going to Blake’s swanky apartment when I got off work.

I was excited about the view, the challenge of making his cats love me, and walking to work in the morning like I was the fashionable protagonist in an NYC sitcom, but I was also nervous for some inexplicable reason.

I looked down at the phone and texted,Do you have a window seat?

Blake:Nope. Wedged in between a talker and a hummer.

I snorted and texted,A talker, a chest, and a hummer walk into a bar…

Blake:Funny girl.

Izzy:Thank you. What time is your bed being delivered, btw?

Blake:Sometime before two; the doorman will let them in. NO PIZZA on the bed.

Izzy:If a pizza falls on a bed in a forest and the owner of the forest bed isn’t there to see it, does it make a sound?

Blake:It doesn’t matter because you’re not eating on the bed, Shay.

Izzy:Chill, bro—it’s hypothetical.

Blake:I WILL KNOW.

Izzy:You’re adorable when you use all caps. VERY POWERFUL.

Blake:I’m FaceTiming you tonight at 6:01 and I expect a detailed visual tour of the bed.

Izzy:I’m FaceTiming YOU tonight at 6:01 and I expect a detailed visual tour of your ass.

I quickly fired off a follow-up text.

Izzy:NOT LITERALLY. “Your ass” as in a “your mom” joke. You get it, right? If you moon me via FaceTime I shall report you to the FCC.

Blake:I don’t think you need that coffee.

Izzy:You’re not the boss of me.

Blake:I am literally the boss of you.

Izzy:I don’t think I need this coffee. I have to get to work.

Blake:Have a good day, Iz.

Nicknamification, in my opinion, was the absolute sexiest. Call Isabella Shay by her last name, or Iz, for the love of God, and she melted like a pat of butter on a pile of hot potatoes. I let out a dreamy sigh in response to hisIzbefore responding withYou, too, Boss.

•••

“I still don’t understand why it’s ten o’clock there, and the plastic is still on,” Blake said. “What are you waiting for—are you a night owl?”

I was definitelynota night owl, and I was getting very sleepy on his big, comfy couch with his cats snuggled in a pile against me, but I just hadn’t been able to bring myself to unwrap his new bed yet. It just seemed…obtrusive.Heshould be the one to pull off that protective plastic, not me. “No, but I’m far too comfy on this sofa to get up. And these guys might revolt if I do.”

“Traitorous little shits.” He made a face at me—we’d been FaceTiming for exactly one hour and forty-two minutes—and leaned his head back on the headboard. “It has to be hot as hell in there if you’re still running the fireplaceandthe boys are on you.”

“Nah—I’ve got the patio slider open,” I said, wishing our call wouldn’t have to end soon. Because in addition to the fact that he was pretty much my favorite person in the world to talk to right now, I was kind of enjoying the view.

Yes, he was handsome; the man had a face that inspired erotic letters to the editor.It was late, and the only other person in the office was the ultrahot billionaire CEO.But I found myself marginally obsessed with the fact that when put-together VP Blake wasn’t working, he was kind of a mess. His hair was always tousled, like he’d forgotten it existed once he removed his tie, and the man seemed to live in faded T-shirts and hoodies.

It was such a contradiction, like beefy Superman being a nerdy reporter, that I felt kind of lucky that I got to see the laid-back side of him.