Page 48 of Sleeping with Her Enemy (49th Floor 2)

No, Perfect Amy had to be aiming her Perfect Ass, encased in some kind of shiny, silklike deep purple fabric, at him. He squirmed, contemplating whether he should just flee like the coward he was.

But he was too late. When she emitted a huff of frustration and righted herself, it should have been a relief. But she turned, hands on hips, and she was wearing a purple minidress. And the red, red lips.

Which transformed from pursed to an enormous smile when she caught sight of him. “Hey! Long time, no see!”

“Problem?” he asked.

“Yes!” The pout returned. It was worse than the smile. “Someone stole my lunch! I brought it yesterday, but ended up on a last-minute business lunch, so I was going to eat it today.” She turned back to the still-open fridge, as if she could manifest the missing lunch. “And now it’s gone.”

“Rosemann has a bunch of temps in this week. They’re working on some huge pitch.”

“More likely it was one of the Boy Geniuses, working late last night.”

“No employee of mine would steal from you!” he protested. “They’re all in love with you.” He grinned. “Actually, maybe they would.” He mimed opening a yogurt container. “Oh, Amy’s disgusting unflavored Greek yogurt! Swoon.”

She shot him a skeptical look, and he realized too late that knowing what kind of yogurt she ate made him sound a little more…intense than he would have liked. “Well, you can have half my stale peanut butter sandwich.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Thanks, but I’m going to go downstairs and grab some lunch,” she said. “Want to come?”

“Twist my arm,” he said, jokingly holding out said arm. She surprised him by taking it as if they were in a PBS costume drama or walking down the aisle at a wedding. Well, what the hell. He escorted her out to the elevators and held the door for her when it arrived. “My lady,” he said, running with the whole Downton Abbey theme.

She grinned but didn’t take his arm again as she punched the button for the subterranean food court that lay beneath the skyscraper. “Actually, one of the Boy Geniuses asked me out.”

“What?” Okay, that was too vehement a reaction. He cleared his throat. “Which one?”

“Steve?” she said. He wasn’t sure why she was phrasing it like a question.

“Well, there’s nothing going on between us, so why not Steve?” The minute the idiotic sentence was out of his mouth, he knew it was a mistake. It wasn’t like she needed his permission to go on a date. Because there was nothing going on between them.

“Oh, so we made out a few times and now I need your blessing to go out with Steve?” she shot back.

Yes, cue the righteous indignation. But this time, he deserved it.

“Of course not,” he said. “You don’t owe me anything.” Then, hoping to get them off this uncomfortable subject, he said, “And did you accept?”

“I did. I hesitated, but then I thought, what the heck do I have to lose? The Boy Geniuses all seem like nice enough guys. And how much do I suck that I always think of them as a unit—the Boy Geniuses—and not as individuated human beings?”

“When is this date?”

She eyed him for a moment as if she was thinking of saying something more, but then she just said, “Tonight, in fact. Which is weird, because I don’t think Steve is here today.”

Steve had, in fact, called in sick. Which meant Steve was home barfing with anticipation, preparing for the best night of his life, the night Amy Morrison deigned to be seen with him in public.

“I just hope Steve understands that I’m not in the mode for anything serious,” Amy said, stepping off the elevator and making a beeline for the soup place in the food court. He didn’t want soup, but he followed her anyway.

Dax waited until Amy had placed her order for cream of broccoli soup before casually asking, “So, what? You’re not going be Steve’s girlfriend, but you’re going to sleep with him?” As if there was any way to casually ask that. And why the hell didn’t he just shut up? This was not his business.

But she didn’t seem offended, just picked up her soup and said, “Oh, God, no. I’m not stupid enough to mix it up with someone I’d see at work every day.”

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