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For a second, I thought he was checking me out when he was staring at me, but of course, that’s just craziness.
He was probably angry that I’d interrupted his busy workday.
He rushed me out of there quickly enough.
“Sorry,” I say, realizing I’m just sitting there like the world’s biggest weirdo. “It’s just a lot to take in. I hope I didn’t make any mistakes today—any catastrophic ones, anyway.”
I try for a laugh, but it comes out strangled.
Hermione smiles kindly at me. She’s probably around the same age as Mom, but she looks younger with her dreadlocks and her stylish bone-white hipster glasses propped up on her head.
“You did really well,” she says. “I wouldn’t believe it was your first day unless I knew it. You’re a natural. I want to put you on a team tomorrow. You’ll help develop the material for a new charity campaign. They want something with artistic flair, and I think you’d be a great addition.”
“Whoah, really?” I say, excitement bubbling up inside of me. “That’s great. Thank you so much. I’ll try not to disappoint you.”
“I know you’ll be amazing,” she says. “Anyway, I need to get out of here. Cats to feed, Netflix to binge, and all that. Have a good evening.”
“And you, boss.”
“Hey,” she says, standing. “What did I say about that? Hermione.”
“Okay, Hermione, thank you.”
I gather up my things and leave the building with everybody else, shouldering my bag.
A deranged thought spirals into my mind as I head toward the elevator. I think about pressing the button for the top floor, riding up to Solomon’s office, and inventing some reason for me being there.
I could tell him that I dropped something.
My phone, a memory stick, headphones, whatever.
I’d tell whatever lie I need so that I can be close to him so that maybe he’ll look at me in that searing, intense way again. My body pricks hotly just thinking about the look in his eyes—a look I probably imagined, but a look that will stay with me all evening and deep into the night.
My sex tingles at the thought of those intense eyes.
I imagine him thinking, You’re mine, Sophia. I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want with you.
It’s so stupid.
To him, I’m just the intern who was in braces only a little while ago.
I cram into the elevator and stand at the back, waiting as it descends down to the ground floor. When the doors open, I walk across the marble flooring toward the exit.
I pick up the pace, knowing I need to basically power walk if I want to make my bus.
The only downside about working here is that Solomon’s offices are uptown, and Mom and I live in the more working-class part of the city. But hunkering down with my Kindle and my headphones on a bus is a small price to pay for such an awesome gig.
I walk into the spring evening air, a cool bite moving over me as the city turns the deep purple of the setting sun.
I head for the street corner, where I’ll be able to press myself against the wall to get out of the way of the other pedestrians. I need to get my headphones on as soon as possible.
I need to blot out all the craziness surging through me.
I’ve just taken them from my bag when I feel somebody standing over me.
My heart thuds in my chest, sending fear spiking through my body.
In this city, a stranger looming over you is never a good thing.
I look up, getting ready to raise my hands to defend myself.
Solomon stares down at me, a subtle smirk dancing across his lips. His bright eyes dance, too, seeming sharp and intense.
“Um, hello?” I say.
“Is that a question?” he smirks, as people rush past us.
It’s like we’ve fallen into our own personal universe, secreted away from the rest of the world.
“No?” I say, giggling despite how wrong this should feel.
We’re not at work anymore.
What the heck does he want with me?
Whatever it is, I know it won’t be what I wish it was.
“Now you’re just playing games with me,” he says, his voice gruff and intense, making me think a million things that would make Caitlin hate me. “Are you heading home? I can give you a ride if you’d like.”
No.
You’re playing with fire.
“Yes,” I hear myself saying, as though somebody else is guiding my words. “That would be nice.”
He gestures toward the parking garage.
“Then follow me,” he says.
He turns and strides in front of me, this huge towering man, looking like somebody from the cover of a men’s health magazine. Everything about him is tight, huge, bulging, and manly. I feel something deep inside of me burn and whimper, and for a second I imagine what Solomon would look like with a tiny baby in his arms, my baby.
