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SophieWhat on earth did that tattoo say?
That question ran through my mind at least fifty times all morning. While I checked my email, returned phone calls and updated my calendar. The words were sideways, and too far away, and I’d spent too much headspace trying to figure out what it was. A line of scripture? His favorite quote? Hell, what was his favorite quote? Probably something from Einstein, or a football player.
Every single time I closed my eyes, I conjured up the image of Stone. Naked and wet, body decorated in ink. No matter how hard I tried to figure out what those words were, my mind went back to the sight of him in all his birthday glory. That particular image, of him looking up with only one thigh draped in my towel, played in my head on an endless loop. For days now, the only thing I could see was his naked form, and it was damned annoying! Who could concentrate with naked man on the brain?
How did Olive and Eva get any work done?
“Knock, knock.” Eva’s voice echoed in my thoughts, an odd soundtrack to the mini movie of a butt naked Stone, and I frowned. Blinked.
“Eva. Hey. What’s up?” Her smirk left me feeling a little terrified of what Id’ said or done to put that look on her face.
“What’s up? That’s what I want to know. What were you daydreaming about, or should I ask, who?” That damn satisfied smirk on her face meant she would be relentless until I told her.
Which I absolutely refused to do. It was the only downside about owning a matchmaking agency, everywhere you looked people were falling in love and trying to make everyone as happy as they were. It was great for business, but bad for someone like me, not looking to get coupled up anytime soon.
“Just work, Eva. I am always thinking about work.” It was a little white lie that was easy enough to believe since TFL took up all of my attention and free time.
“All work and no play makes Sophie horny and cranky,” she sang with a wide, teasing smile.
“All work and no play makes TFL an unmitigated success.” That was my primary focus, first and foremost. Walking away from the Worthington family meant walking away from the security blanket of my trust fund. So for me, failure was not an option. I was determined to succeed, not to spite my parents, but in spite of them. To do that, you’ll have to do something other than daydream about your best friend’s cock, the snarky voice in my head said in Eva’s sing-song voice. “Did you stop in here to do something other than badger me?”
“Yes, actually. Olive and I were waiting for you to show up for the briefing. After twenty minutes I decided to make sure you were still alive.”
“Crap!” My gaze went to the clock on my computer screen and, sure enough, I was late for the meeting. I was never late for meetings. Ever. I jumped up and grabbed my tablet, a notepad and pen and my phone, grumbling to myself every step of the way. If I hadn’t spent half the morning thinking of naked men, well, one naked man in particular, I wouldn’t be running late for the meeting. “I’m on my way,” I told her, my voice barely above a whisper.
Eva’s husky laugh sounded while I struggled with my load. “Just kidding. You’re only five minutes late.”
My shoulders relaxed, but that was five minutes too many. And it was all Stone’s fault. “Jerk.” Eva laughed and followed me down the hall to the conference room where we always met.
“Worth it just to see you all out of sorts.”
I flipped her off with a smile as I entered the room and found Olive tearing into a hoagie. “I am not out of sorts. Just distracted. With work,” I added quickly.
“You hear that Olive, Soph was daydreaming about work. Sex work, but I guess in some circles that is work.” Eva was on fire today, and if it wasn’t aimed at me, I might’ve been more amused.
Or if she wasn’t right.
“What’s got you so distracted?” Bless Olive for taking me at my word, even if her pregnancy cravings had her disregarding basic table manners.
My shoulders relaxed at her question, because work was something I wanted to talk about. Always. “Magnus. I spent an hour on the phone with him Saturday, listening to him complain about the fact that his personality is so objectionable that even his big fat wallet can’t get him a second date.”
The room fell silent. Even Olive had stopped chewing which only drew my attention to the big lump of food stored in her cheek like a chipmunk. “Something is wrong,” she said around the lump of food. “What is it?” It was harder to blow off Olive’s question because she was so genuine, so earnest about her concern.
