Page 26 of Based on You

Her eyes darted away from mine. The tips of her ears flushed a bright, violent pink. "Wow. That's a bit much, sir."

"Oh, please." I leaned back in my chair, enjoying the reaction. "We've already crossed a fair number of professional lines today."

She set her fork down and picked up her water glass, hunting for a distraction. "Certain lines, yes."

"Although there are some we shouldn't cross," I added.

"Yes," she agreed. "Certain firm boundaries."

I looked at her across the scuffed wooden table. She was studying her plate like it owed her money. "I'm sure you'd jump at the chance to cross those boundaries with the marketing team leader, though."

She burst out laughing, her head tipping back. "You're seriously still hung up on that?"

"I can't believe you called that man handsome." I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table. "After our call last night, I pulled up the internal employee directory. I went through the whole department until I found a Caleb Brown in marketing."

She turned to look at me, her mouth falling open. "You actually looked him up?"

"I was curious. For a man to pull that many women in one office, I wanted to know what kind of competition I was dealing with."

She leaned forward, mirroring me with her elbows on the table. "And what did you think?"

His features were fine, his build was good, and his face was the kind that photographed well, and he probably knew it. "He's fine," I admitted. "His features are acceptable. He has a decent build." I paused and rolled my eyes. "Fine, yes, he's good-looking. But he looked like a narcissist."

She laughed again. "He totally is. And he hit on me, you know. Just like you, he apparently doesn't have a strict type."

I dropped my fork. "I'm nothing like that man."

"Sure, you're just not a philanderer," she teased.

"So he hit on you." I stared at her. "When did this happen?"

"In the elevator a few weeks ago. We were the only two in there. He made a pointed comment about my outfit and asked me out."

"Why on earth did you refuse?"

She pressed her lips together, a corner of her mouth twitching. "Who told you I refused?"

My smile dropped. "You told me you had nothing to do with him."

"Sexually. But he offered a free meal at a nice place. I had to take it." A beat of silence. "It was free steak, Simon."

I laughed, louder than I meant to. Olivia looked over from her side of the table, startled by the noise. "You're not serious."

"I'm serious. And after the date, he graciously offered to drive me home and stay for a late drink. That was the moment I turned him down."

I shook my head. "Men like that spread nasty rumors when they get rejected."

"Oh, please." She waved a hand. "He doesn't know what I look like naked. That's the only thing that matters."

"What do you look like—" I stopped myself. She raised both eyebrows at me in warning. I laughed and held my hands up in surrender. "Boundaries. I'm sorry. That just slipped out."

"Sure it did," she deadpanned.

"Oh, wow." Sloane's voice cut across the table. I looked up. She was watching the two of us, her chin resting in her hand. "Your teenage niece and I are still sitting right here, you know."

I shot a guilty glance at Olivia. She was stirring her milkshake with a straw, smiling down into the glass. "Not that we're complaining about the free entertainment," Olivia mumbled. "Please, go right ahead."

I laughed, my face warming, and turned back to Sloane. "Tell me what it is you do."