His Temporary Assistant

Such a thing would’ve seemed impossible just a short time ago, just like my giving my notice.

Just like either of us—hell, both of us—falling for some mystery woman. Not that Ryan was a secret to me. I knew there was so much more left for me to learn about her, but I was committed to the prospect.

I would leave no stone unturned, starting with how many times I could make her come back to back. So far we were at two, but I’d always been an overachiever.

“You’re going to have to do some serious backtracking, man.” Someone spoke over Bishop’s shoulder, and he laughed in a way I’d never heard from him before. Free and easy and unburdened. “Look, I’ve gotta go but I want to hear the full story when I’m back in a few days. Drinks at Lonegan’s on me?”

“Absolutely, but they’ll be on me since part of the story involves you. Have a good time. Do everything I wouldn’t do and then give me some tips.” I hung up to the sound of my buddy’s laughter.

It was a great sound, one I hoped to hear a lot more often.

I smiled as I walked around my desk and found the box of my coffee pods sitting on my chair with a lipstick kiss on the box.

Ryan Goddess Moon was a godsend in more ways than one.

While I popped one of them into the brewer, I called my car dealership and made a few subtle inquiries. I was interested in a new vehicle. Something less…beige.

My account representative got very excited indeed and invited me to come by for a test drive in an hour. I started to say no, since it was only late afternoon and I still had a stack of paperwork waiting for me—and apparently, my assistant had taken her leave early.

Hard for me to get too mad there. Emphasis on hard. Especially since I intended to see her again this evening.

Wouldn’t this car make a statement when I did?

I agreed to meet for the test drive and hung up to take my first sip of my beloved. I sat behind my desk and let the sweet warmth slide through my system, prodding my already overstimulated nerve endings. In no time, I’d finished the cup and went back for a second. The substandard kind from the supply closet was no comparison to this.

Now that I was fully caffeinated, I glanced down at myself. I couldn’t go to the dealership like this. I needed a shower. Desperately.

I took one glance at my pile of files and grabbed my briefcase to sweep them inside. On the way to the door, I grabbed my phone again and texted Dex.

PMS: What’s the name of your tattoo parlor?

Dex: Dude, don’t do it. Not if you’re going to tat something like ESQ on your ass.

I snorted.

PMS: Did Ryan tell you about her fascination with that word?

Dex: No, but I know she has a fascination with you.

My typical response would be to change the subject. But since I had it on good authority she did have a fascination with me, I only sent back a quick reply.

PMS: And vice versa.

Dex: Finally he admits it! Is she the reason for the tattoo inquiry? Not that your last tat choice wasn’t inspired.

I winced and wiggled the toes on my left foot in my shoe.

PMS: I’ve done questionable things while drunk in college. But I’m not drunk now.

Dex: Sure about that? And why do you say that? Tattooing big beneath your big toe seems logical 2 me.

I rode the elevator downstairs and headed out to my car. The sunny afternoon was sweltering, and my shirt clung to my skin within a moment of stepping outside. I was already looking forward to that ice-cold shower.

PMS: It seemed smart at the time. Tattoo place, please? I’m about to drive.

Dex rattled off the address before sending over a followup question.

Dex: Seriously, I know you don’t have much of a social life lately, but no matter how good the pussy is, do not put her name on you. Do not do it. I implore you. You’re begging to hate her by Tuesday.