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"I'm currently watching Mr. Mercedes on Superchannel."
"We could watch that, too."
She left the elevator without responding.
"Text me
," I called out as the elevator doors closed.
She smiled. "I can't. Working late. Then I need to go right to bed so I can get up early and go at it again. Work work work until Sharon's presentation on Tuesday."
"If you change your mind, you know where to find me."
Her smile suggested that she was definitely deciding that she didn't want to get mixed up with me, no matter how much I promised her it would be just casual. I went the rest of the way up to my apartment, ruminating on what I really wanted from her. I enjoyed her wit and her beauty, plus she was hot in bed.
Maybe it wasn't a good thing for me to become involved with her.
I wasn't going to let that stop me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ella
Dammit.
He wasn't going to let up. He took every chance he could to contact me, whether by text or email or in person.
The problem was, I was beginning to look forward to it, despite all my best intentions. It was so tempting to just let myself fall for him, but everything was happening far too quickly.
He was just so easy to be with. Fun. I enjoyed his sense of humor and of course, his obvious interest in me was flattering to my ego, which was still bruised.
Josh was wealthy, handsome, and successful. Any woman would be more than happy to receive his attention.
Except me. I feared it.
He could have me twisted around his little finger so easily...
I spent the weekend at the office working on the presentation, making sure it was ready for Sharon's meeting on Tuesday, going over every detail, trying to make sure each slide was perfect and the whole thing flowed. I checked every number three times with the source material. I sent copies to each of the editors involved in providing the data for their input.
It kept me busy all day Saturday and Sunday.
I didn't see Josh during that period, but he made sure to text me.
I continued to give the excuse that I was working late and needed to go right to bed when I was done for the night.
On Saturday afternoon, he called me while he was out shopping.
My cell rang and I checked the call display to see whether it was him, although there were very few people in the entire world who knew my number other than Steph -- Sharon, Josh and Cindy from the office. That was pretty much the extent of it and since both of them were only steps away, I knew it was him.
"Hello, Josh."
"Hello, Ella. I'm down at Mr. Ho's place by the office and am wondering what to get for supper."
"It all depends," I answered, smiling at his blatant attempt to talk me into having dinner with him.
"Depends on what?" he asked, his interest piqued.
"On what you feel like eating, of course," I replied and stared off into the distance, trying to imagine him standing at the fruit and vegetable stalls at the small grocers down the street from the main office in the financial district. I could see him picking up pieces of fruit and smelling them, feeling the cucumbers, checking out the fresh seafood in the display case.
