Page 10 of One Night Only
“Well, it says something like that. I don’t know. I didn’t reallyread it. But there’s a definite non-fraternization clause,thatI know.”
“Breathe, Emily.” Fran cocks her head to the side, a knowing smile playing on her lips that should anger me but actually helps to ease my worry. “Also, you weren’ttechnicallyemployed at the time… so?”
We’re interrupted by a knock on the door, and when I glance over to find the very last person I want to see standing there, I swear I almost die. When I don’t die, I briefly consider taking a running jump through the plate glass window because plummeting twenty-two stories to my death would be a lot less painful than this.
Fran takes a step back, forcing a casual smile as she turns to the door. “Oh, hey, Dallas.”
“Hey, Franny.” Dallas’s grin is tentative as he invites himself in.
“What brings you into the office this afternoon?” Fran asks, her voice far too high-pitched and sweet to be considered natural.
“Oh, I was… um—” His piercing gaze flits to me before landing back on Fran as he tugs on the back of his neck. “I was just looking for Andy.”
I roll my eyes because that’s a flat-out lie considering Dallas was right there when Andy told me he was flying up to Boston.
“Andy isn’t here,” I murmur, turning and taking a seat at my desk so I can pretend to be extremely busy in the hope that they both take the hint and get the hell out of my office.
“Oh…” Dallas sighs heavily and, from my periphery, I see him linger as an awkward silence settles in the air.
“Oh, no!” Fran shrieks dramatically.
I snap my head up, but the moment I do, I see the telling smile hinting at her lips as she stares down at her phone. “I’m late for a client meeting uptown.” Her gaze darts to me, and she has the audacity to wink.
I swear, it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to throw my mouse at her head.
“I’ll call Andy later about… this,” Fran says, holding up the file she walked in with before turning and scurrying out with a quick, “Bye, Dallas.”
With Fran gone, I stare at my computer screen, fully aware that Dallas is still standing there. The tension in the air is almost too much. Stifling to the point where it’s hard to catch a breath. The only sound is my thumping heart, which I’m sure he can hear, and the distant honking of Midtown gridlock coming from outside. I start typing into a blank Word document—literal gibberish—just to fill the void.
“So…”
My fingers pause, shoulders sagging in resignation when, from the corner of my eye, I catch him approaching my desk. But I refuse to look at him, hoping he might give up and go away if I pretend like he’s not here. Of course, no such luck.
“We meet again.”
Forcing myself to look up, I startle at just how close he is. I meet his eyes that are as ridiculous as I remember, a striking green with flecks of silver and the thickest lashes I’ve ever seen on a man. I try so hard to play it cool but I swear, if he comes any closer, I might jump his bones from the scent of his cologne alone, job be damned. Who needs money anyway? My parents said there will always be room for me in their basement.
Dallas scans my desk, dragging a finger along the sleek glass top before coming to stop at the stack of business cards in the metal holder. He picks one up, studying it closely, that same smile lingering when his eyes meet mine.
“Emily Cole,” he says, as if trying to get a feel for the words, and the way my name sounds in that thick Texan accent is doing things to me I can’t even begin to comprehend.
With a huff, I stand again and walk toward the window in an attempt to put some space between us. Looking twenty-twostories down at the street below, I do a cursory check of the window seal. No opening. Dammit. I really am trapped.
I swallow hard, folding my arms across my chest. “Can I help you with something?”
Looking me up and down, the intensity of his stare is almost overwhelming. He snickers quietly to himself and tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans. But for a long moment, he just stares at me, the hint of a soft smile lingering as something else flickers in his eyes.
“Why’d you leave me?” he finally asks with an unexpected vulnerability I wasn’t prepared for, his gaze unwavering. “Did I do something wrong?”
Shaking my head, I choose, yet again, to play dumb. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dallas’s eyes narrow in a way that tells me he’s not buying my act one bit. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can say anything, he’s interrupted by the loud trilling of my desk phone as it breaks the silence.
Puffing air from my cheeks, I hurry to answer the call, thankful for the reprieve yet fully aware of his dubious gaze burning a hole into me.
“Good afternoon, Andy Hoffman’s office,” I answer as smoothly as I can.
“There’s my girl!” My mother’s high-pitched voice comes through the line.
