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Luz comes through for me the next morning and sets me up with a hot doctor named James. He lives in Midtown, so he can be close to the hospital, and he wants to meet at a wine bar that night. When Luz texts me that he’s only free tonight, I sink into my chair and shut my eyes. I could sleep for a hundred years. Maybe more. It’s Friday. I was looking forward to an after-work nap and some quality time on the couch with our cat, Samson.
But instead of sleeping, I shower and primp until my eyes are heavy under sooty makeup and my breasts are pushed together. And the whole time, I try not to think about Jonah Crown and his erratic behavior. He’s hot and cold. Sexy and confusing. Feeding me, but also glaring at me like he wants to destroy me.
Unfortunately, after all the work on my hair and makeup, I come to the realization that James and I don’t have much in common. We’re tucked at a table in a dimly lit wine bar near the office, with velvet seats and little clusters of chairs. I’m persevering, but it’s tough. The thing is, James is perfectly nice. Not an egomaniac, though a part of me wishes he had more of an edge. He asks about my day, pays for my glass of wine, pulls my chair out for me. I think back to Luz telling me that I like bad boys, and I push the thought away. I just need to try harder. James has long lashes, bright green eyes, and a chiseled jaw. I shift a little closer to him to see if something, anything, will spark between us.
“So where has Luz been hiding you away?” he asks, after we get a second glass of wine. He’s interested. I can tell. He’s leaning in toward me with bright eyes. He doesn’t have much tolerance for alcohol, and his cheeks are a little pink. It’s adorable. Or it should be.
I laugh awkwardly and take a hearty gulp of wine before responding. “I just haven’t been dating much the last few months.” Try a whole year.
“Why not?”
“I had a bad breakup.” I shrug, like it was nothing, but my shoulders are tight. It was more than that. Leaving Eric was like stepping outside on the first day of spring. I didn’t realize how much I’d lost myself until I was free of him.
“I’ve been there.” James grimaces. I use the opportunity to ask him about himself. It’s pretty obvious that he’s a girlfriend guy. He tells me how he really wants to settle down. He likes to ski and camp when he can get time off, and he loves dogs. He’s perfect. For someone. I so want it to be me. He’s the opposite of Eric. Where Eric was brash and showy, James is quiet. He’s not famous, but he’s successful. The second glass of wine makes me bold, and I lean in more. Maybe he’ll kiss me. His eyes snag on my lips, his hand lands on my thigh. I feel nothing.
And then my phone rings. My whole body jerks, and I nearly fall out of my chair. Jonah. I set a different ring tone for him. My phone plays the Death March from Star Wars.
“My boss,” I say with a grimace. James laughs.
“Nice ringtone.”
I pick up and hear, “Where the hell are you?”
Before I can lie, he adds, “I can hear the music, Thompson.”
“I’m out,” I say boldly. “Did you need something?”
He makes a low, frustrated sound. “Get your ass back to the office. I want to see you within ten minutes. Or you’re fired.”
My stomach bottoms out.
“Gotta go. Call me.” I grab my coat and run outside. The air is crisp and I’m only a few blocks from the office. Walking it is. I stuff my chin into my coat and walk as quickly as my dainty heels will allow.
I’m out of breath and nine minutes have passed by the time I get up to the fifty-second floor. The hallway lights flicker on this side, a path of light leading straight to the lion’s den. Jonah is leaning against the doorframe. My steps slow.
He waits, arms crossed, sneer firmly on his face, as I near. Damn, he looks too good. I want to pull out my camera and take a photo of his haughty face and the way his throat works. His hair is mussed and his tie is gone.
I stop in front of him and raise my chin. Asshole, my gaze says.
I’m on to you, his says.
I narrow my eyes. I hate you.
His mouth curves up. Right back at you.
“Why did you call me back to the office?”
“I need your help with something.” His tone isn’t mocking. It’s genuine. Weird.
“You actually need my help? With what?”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
I’m pleased is what I am. Maybe Jonah is finally taking me seriously. I can do more than he’s asking me to do, and I hate being bored. And I want access. Maybe I’ll learn something useful.
I press a hand to my chest and gasp dramatically. “What do you need from me? Perhaps you need me to trek across town to get you dinner? Are you fresh out of the souls of small children for your morning coffee? Did you want to insult me more?”
