The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

Gray skirt with split . . . check, check, double check.

“Good morning.” I smile at my friends as I arrive at my desk.

Their eyes come to me, and they smirk as they see I’m wearing the requested outfit. Aaron gives me a wink and turns back to his computer.

“Does anybody want coffee?” I ask.

“Yes, please,” they both reply.

I walk into the kitchen, and Ricardo follows me in. “Hey, chickie, I’ve been waiting for you.”

I smile an over-the-top fake smile. God . . . can’t I have someone better to fake flirt with than this guy? “Hi,” I reply excitedly. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” He smiles at my enthusiasm. “Listen, I’m so sorry I got you into trouble the other day.”

I smile and pull my hand through my ponytail. “That’s okay. Come and see me later, though, won’t you?”

His eyes light up. “Okay, it’s a deal.”

I walk back to my desk and take a seat with our three coffees, and I open my emails and get to work. Jameson called me six times last night, and I don’t know why.

I’m not sure if he wanted to apologize or fight . . . but I’m not giving him the satisfaction of answering his call so he can do either.

I’m going to have a good day, and I’m not going to think about Jameson Miles once.

It’s three o’clock, and Operation Flirty Office Slut is in full swing. I’ve smiled and laugh

ed with every loser in the building today. I’m not sure if he’s even watching, but I’m about to up the ante. I’m on my way up to see Tristan about the story I wrote.

The elevator doors open, and I smile sweetly at the receptionist.

“Hello, I’m here to see Tristan.”

“Sure, just a moment.” She frowns as she tries to remember my name.

“It’s Emily Foster.”

“That’s right. I’m sorry.” She calls through. “Tristan, I have Emily Foster here to see you.”

“Okay, send her in,” he replies happily.

“Just go through to the main conference room, but instead of turning left to go to Jameson’s office, turn right, and go down the corridor on the other side of the building.”

“Thank you.” I follow her directions and head down to the other end of the building. I frown; there are four office doors. I hesitate. Which door did she say?

I walk down the corridor, and a door is open. I see Jameson is in there, talking to a man. “Sorry to bother you. Is Tristan’s office down here?” I ask.

Jameson’s face falls as he sees me.

“Next door,” the other man replies.

I smile sweetly. “Thank you.” I head over and knock on Tristan’s door.

“Come in,” he calls, and I walk in and close the door behind me.

“Hello.” I smile.

“Hi, Emily.” He smiles warmly as he gestures to the chair in front of his desk. “Please take a seat.”