Page 67 of Serving the CEO

She sighed, then picked up her gift.

Relief washed through me as she peeled off the wrapping paper. Her fingers clenched a moment later, and her eyes flew up to me, stunned.

“How did you know I wanted this?”

I gave her a sheepish smile. “I read through some old interviews.”

Gentle color touched her cheeks, and she looked down, stroking the dull red leather of the old book. “I…thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Maybe it was a bad idea, but I decided to take a risk. “Can I take you out to dinner tonight?”

She narrowed her eyes, but I saw a glint of humor in those gray depths. “You think you can simply buy me an expensive – and very thoughtful – gift that I absolutely love, and I’ll cave to your wishes?”

“Um, no?” Shit. Had I just made things worse?

Then she cracked a smile, and I knew things were okay.

“Why don’t you come over instead?” She suggested. “I’ll cook for you.”

TWENTY-FIVE

JESSICA

I dashedinto the kitchen and checked the water, dragging a brush through my hair at the same time. I’d been crazy, inviting Derrick to dinner here. I hadn’t even considered what we had in the apartment, so I’d had to stop by the store, and I hadn’t built in enough time to shower, cook, and…

“…be home, so don’t worry, okay.”

Jerking my thoughts back to my conversation with Jami, I asked, “But where are you going to stay?”

“You’re off in outer space,” she said with a sigh. “I just told you. I’m going to crash on the couch in your office. There’s no way I want to come home and listen to moaning and groaning. I mean, we might’ve come to a truce about your relationship, but I still think the guy’s a tool.”

Face flushing, I grabbed the salt and added it to the water. “Jami, it’s just dinner. He’s not coming over here for a booty call.”

“Yeah, like it won’t happen.” She huffed out a laugh, and it was both wry and cynical at the same time. “Go. Get off the phone before you burn yourself or your hair or…something. And be safe. Call me if you need me.”

“I will.”

As I ended the call, I stared at the pot of water, willing it to boil. When that didn’t happen, I jogged back to the bathroom and spent a minute trying to do something with my hair. A glance at the clock told me I was down to about fifteen minutes. Since the pasta wouldn’t take long, I did my make-up, then shimmied into the dress I’d found at an upscale consignment shop.

It was one-shouldered, with an asymmetrical hem that went higher than I usually would have worn, but I took one look and knew Derrick would love it on me. So I bought it. A shade of gray just a bit darker than my eyes, with rouching on the sides, and it showed off my curves without being too tight. That, plus my silver bra and panty set made me feel sexy and right now I needed the confidence. I took a look in the mirror and blew out a breath. I looked as good as I ever would.

The heels I bought to go with the dress added three inches to my height. I grabbed them and dropped them by the hall outside the kitchen, planning to slip them on later. After one last look in the mirror, I hurried into the kitchen and washed my hands—finally, the water was boiling. Had I added salt? I racked my brain. It was sitting in the cabinet. Probably not. I dumped some in, added the pasta and a little garlic, then started chopping the tomatoes.

It was a quick and easy dish, but one that never failed to impress people, especially since I was using freshly made pasta that I’d picked up at the store instead of boxed. I could do fancy…ish.

I was grating the Parmigiano cheese when he buzzed downstairs. My hands were shaking worse than they had on our first date. I unlocked the door and buzzed him up, then checked the pasta.

Putting the colander in the sink, I headed to slip on my shoes.

He knocked.

Swearing, I left the shoes where they were and headed for the door.

My breath caught in my chest at the sight of him, wearing a suit almost the same color as my dress and a shirt a few shades darker. With a nervous smile, I said, “Hey…we match.”

His eyes had been sliding down the length of me, but he met my gaze and smiled. “I think you wear the color better than I do.”

My knees quaked at his smile, and I stepped back to let him in.

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