Anya picks up a large stack of paper and hands it to me. “Just follow my lead. It’s fine. Everything is under control.”
I follow her out of the copy room internally debating whether there’s enough time to pretend to be sick or suddenly remember I have a doctor’s appointment. But it’s already almost three o’clock so the best I can do is grit my teeth and try to get through this without any mishaps.
Anya walks down to the largest conference room and immediately crosses to the sideboard where the food has been set up. James walks up and says something that causes Anya to turn her back to him. He stands there staring at the stiff set of her shoulders for a moment before walking away.
At least Andre isn’t here yet. I hug the stack of papers against my chest and let out a soft breath of relief. I still have some time to get myself together. I turn around and slam into something that feels like concrete.
“Ouch!”
I clutch frantically at the sheets of paper but it’s no use. Dozens of white sheets flutter to the floor and scatter across the room. Everything goes completely still including the body I just crashed into.
The very firm, black-suited body.
“Hello again, Cassandra.”
I murmur hello before I kneel and start gathering the handouts. So much for gritting my teeth and getting through this. I was hoping I could hide out in the back of the room and then just hurry out as soon as the meeting was over.
It’s still unnaturally quiet in the room. I look up to see that everyone is still watching. To be precise, they’re watching the man now kneeling on my right.
Andre Lavin is actually down on the floor collecting the papers at his feet into a neat pile. Great. I close my eyes. Not only is everyone staring, but I’ve got the agency’s biggest client scrabbling around on the floor.
“You don’t have to do that. You’ll get all dirty.” I take the pile of paper he’s collected and tug at his arm.
“I don’t mind. It was my fault after all.” He stands in one swift motion. “Besides, I don’t mind getting a little dirty.”
A slow, suggestive grin spreads over his face and my heart trips so hard I’m afraid I’ll drop everything all over again. Just to be safe, I set it all down on the conference table. Damn that man and his smile. That thing is like a loaded weapon!
Anya walks over and picks up half the handouts. Everyone else has finally turned their attention to other things but I still feel conspicuous.
Probably because Andre is still staring and not doing anything to disguise it.
“Well, well, well. I guess you don’t need my help at all. It looks like he wouldn’t mind if you tripped and fell against him anytime.” Anya raises her eyebrows before walking to the other side of the conference table.
Andre strokes the square piece of fabric tucked into the front pocket of his suit. I’ve seen men wear those before but usually they’re the same color as their tie. It’s odd because this one seems to be some kind of weird pattern. I squint. Are those unicorns?
“Oh sweet baby Jesus!” I holler, horrified as I realize what that little pocket square is about.
James is just entering the room at the time of my outburst. “Are we ready to get started?”
Panicked, I look around frantically wishing I could sink through the floor. Is he really wearing a pocket square made from my panties? As much as I wish that was impossible, the last time I saw that particular pattern was on the panties I forgot in the hotel room we shared.
Andre blinks innocently. “Feeling all right, Miss Michaels?”
I narrow my eyes. I know what he’s doing wearing that stupid thing and it’s not going to work. He is not going to get the best of me.
“Of course, Mr. Lavin. I was just… praying. I’m very religious. Have you been told the good news about Jesus lately?”
Andre looks like he’s on the verge of laughing but manages to hold it together. “Maybe later. I must say James, your employees have been so welcoming. I’ve never had such good service. ”
James looks back and forth between us in confusion. “Well, we’re very tolerant here at Mirage of all religions and customs.”
Andre takes his seat at the end of the table. But every few seconds his eyes find mine again. Did he fall and bump his head or something? It’s almost like he doesn’t remember what happened on Saturday night.
Until his eyes drop to my breasts and his lips curl into a small smile. My nipples turn traitor and peak under his gaze, pushing against the fabric of my sweater.
I cough and turn away, trying to get my breathing under control. The lights dim slightly, which prods me into action. I have work to do and the agency isn’t paying me to stand around and ogle handsome men. Even irresistible Italian ones.
Everyone takes their seats as the presentation begins. Not for the first time, I marvel at how fluidly Milo and Mya work together. They each present a separate section of the presentation and at times finish each other’s sentences when one or the other gets stuck explaining a point.