His Temporary Assistant

“Let me think about it and get back to you.”

I knew a brush-off when I heard one. I needed to seal the deal. “Why don’t we discuss it over lunch tomorrow? I’ll cook,” I offered, before remembering that my apartment was half empty and the rest was a disaster zone.

“A second grade teacher who cooks,” she mused, tapping her irresistibly glossy lips. “In the package of an outrageous flirt. Very interesting.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m outrageous. Exactly. More like persistent.” I flashed her a grin. “So, what do you say?”