Page 20 of Her Possessive Daddies

The winking emoji makes my chest flutter. I glance up as Seth changes slides, pretending to take notes.

When's your next shift? Need to ensure proper supervision of my investment.

Saturday night. Not enough time for my bloody mary to have improved.

I'll fall on the sword. Someone needs to taste test.

Seth clears his throat. I look up to find him staring at me, one eyebrow raised.

"Something more important than our profit margins, Corey?"

"Just checking some numbers." I slip the phone into my pocket, ignoring the vibration of her reply.

The meeting drags for another twenty minutes. I catch maybe every third word, my mind wandering to dark curls and hazel eyes. When Seth finally dismisses everyone, I look at my phone again.

Her last message reads:Better bring your A-game critiquing skills then. I've been practicing.

Looking forward to it. I might need multiple samples to give a proper assessment.

Careful, Mr. King. That sounds dangerously close to flirting.

The formality of "Mr. King" shouldn't affect me like this. I'm too old to get butterflies from a text message. And yet…

Would that be so terrible?

Three dots appear, then disappear. Appear again. My heart shouldn't race waiting for a response from someone nearly half my age.

I suppose not. RIP Bloody Mary.

"Corey?" Seth's voice breaks through my Abbie-induced haze. "Your thoughts on the Miller account?"

"Hmm?" I tap my pen against the legal pad, which contains exactly two words: 'quarterly review.' "Sorry, run that by me again?"

His eyes narrow. He clicks to the next slide, but I'm already back to composing my text response.

"Earth to Corey." A wadded-up post-it note bounces off the table near me. "The projections for Q3?"

"Right, yes. Let's table that for now. I need to review the numbers more thoroughly."

The rest of the board files out, leaving Seth and me alone in the conference room. He relaxes against the table, arms crossed.

"Okay, what’s going on? You've been grinning at your phone like a teenager for the past hour. What gives?"

"Nothing gives." I stuff my phone in my pocket, but it vibrates again.

"Bullshit. I haven't seen you this distracted since..." He pauses, thinking. "Actually, I've never seen you this distracted. Who is she?"

"What makes you think it's a she?"

"Because I know that look. That's the 'I met someone' look." He drops into the chair next to me. "Come on, man. We've been friends for fifteen years. Give me something here."

I run a fist through my hair. "She's... young."

"How young are we talking?"

"Twenty-four."

He whistles low. "Damn. Where'd you meet her?"

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