Page 48 of Mr. Perfect

I don’t know what to think about any of that. Or this dress. It’s such a pretty shade of blush pink. And it’s got tags on it. I don’t mind spending a hundred dollars on a dress, but two thousand? Nope. Never happening. I bet even if I found this dress in a thrift store five years from now it would still be marked out of my budget.

One problem. I don’t have a bra. I was wearing a cami today. Fridays are casual, which means no poky wire under my tits for one whole workday.

I slip the dress on anyway—what choice do I have—and realize I have another problem as well. It’s got a back zip.

Fuck.

The connecting door opens again and Mac is there mouth open like he’s going to ask me something. But instead all he says is, “Oh, hell.” He closes the door and disappears.

I smile. Because that was definitely a good, Oh, hell.

I walk over trying to stop grinning like an idiot and open the door back up. “It’s got a zip, Mac. Can you help me?”

He’s got his hand in his hair like he was just running his fingers through it. “Uh, sure.”

I bite my lip as I turn and pull my hair away from my back. The zip is resting on the small of my back, and as soon as his fingers touch my skin, I get a prickle of excitement. He pulls the zipper closed slowly and then stops right as it reaches the widest part of my back. I have a moment of panic that the dress won’t fit, but he adjusts the fabric and finishes.

I look over my shoulder and smile. “It’s a double zip. So the bottom part unzips upward.” Right between my thighs, I don’t add. “Can you do that part too?”

He squints his blue eyes at me, then his gaze falls down the length of my backside. It’s a pencil dress, I realize. And it’s hugging my shape like a glove. “No,” Mac says.

“Excuse me?” I laugh.

He’s shaking his head. “No. This is the wrong dress for work. Is Andrew picking you up from work?”

“I told you I can’t talk about it.”

“Well, that zipper was not meant to be revealing, Eloise. It’s a decoration only.”

“I don’t think so, Mac. I think it’s so I can move my legs.” I shimmy forward and the dress does its best to keep my knees tightly together. “If this was a night out I could see it. It’s sexy, right? The way I have to take these small steps. But at work, Mac? Do you really want me to be squirming around the office today wiggling my hips with every step?”

He looks conflicted as he scratches his chin and studies the dilemma.

“It’s either unzip me a little or have me wiggle all day. Your choice.”

He unzips just enough to release the tight fabric from my knees. “Thank you,” I say. “And this was fun. So thanks for that too.” I walk back into my office and he follows, leaning against the doorjamb.

He frowns at me. “What time will you be home Sunday?” I pause for a moment, wondering how far I should let this ruse go, but before I can answer, he says, “You are coming home Sunday? You’ll be here for pencil skirt and button-down shirt Monday?”

“Are you planning on ripping my clothes off me again on Monday?”

“I’m not sure, Ellie. Is this thing with Andrew serious?”

Wow. I think he might be jealous. Of a kid! Whom I would never, ever date. I think of Andrew as a little brother. “We’re friends,” I say. “And I care about him a lot.” Which is true. He’s one of my case studies in the book, so I’m invested in his success.

“OK.” Mac sighs. “Well, I’ll call the caterers and have them come take the breakfast cart away.”

“Caterers? I thought this stuff came from the cafeteria?”

“No,” Mac says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I think he’s disappointed that I ruined his weekend plans. “What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t go all out for you?”

“Well,” I say. “I don’t know what to think about all this, Mac. I’m going to be honest. So it’s a good thing we’re not going out this weekend. It’s too much, too fast.”

“Got it,” Mac says. “If you don’t want to be here when they come clean up, you can go and come back later. Have a great weekend, Ellie. I’ll talk to you next week.”

This time when he closes the door I know he’s not coming back. My heart has a little ache in it. Like I should call after him. Fess up and just be honest.

But I don’t. Because I need to think about all this before things get too far and I can’t turn back.