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11
AJ
“I can’t lie. That sounds hot,” Georgia mused as I held my phone to my ear while checking under every stall of the bathroom. All empty, and thank God for that, since I’d just caved and given Georgia a very detailed description of what had happened in the conference room before. The short version was that I’d brushed past Adam on my way out and gotten a whiff of his cologne.
The long version was that it was two very long seconds of torture, mostly because of how fucking good that cologne smelled, and how annoyingly hot he looked in that suit. I’d never seen it before but it was dark blue and tailored, and stretched so perfectly across his Superman shoulders that I couldn’t help but relive that night in the hotel room—when he’d worn nothing but a white T-shirt, and I’d gotten a much better look at all that sculpted muscle.
“It was hot, technically, but I’m seriously failing right now at the whole stop-looking-at-him-like-that thing. And it really doesn’t help that I’m currently separated from my good vibrator.”
“The one you got in Chicago? That Adam said made you look ‘thoroughly fucked?’”
“Yes,” I grumbled, standing in front of the sink and staring at my not-so-familiar reflection in Georgia’s soft button-up top and a grey pencil skirt.
With Caspar refusing to vacate our shared home, I’d been staying at an AirBnB since returning to LA, and since I couldn’t get him to leave long enough to grab my things, I was currently living off whatever belongings I’d brought with me to the Palm Beach trip—along with some borrowed clothing from my best friend’s corporate days.
It wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t have time to shop. Also, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice Adam’s lingering eye when he first saw me walk in wearing a skirt.
“So, did you guys get to third base in the dream yet?” Georgia asked, making me stamp my heeled foot.
“Georgia Jane. Please don’t make me regret telling you about that,” I said, referring to the realization that my sex dream about Adam was in fact recurring. I’d had it Sunday night, Tuesday night, and again this morning.
And each time, we got a little more naked.
“What? I just want to know if Dream Adam has a nine-incher too.”
“Honestly, I don’t know yet because we haven’t gotten that far, but I’d prefer not to think about it now because—”
My phone buzzed twice to interrupt my sentence, and the second I looked at my screen, my pulse jumped.
ADAM: Where the hell are you?
ADAM: Get in my office
“Shit!” I hissed, looking at the texts then the time and realizing I’d taken way longer than a five-minute break. “Georgia, I gotta go!” I blurted.
I couldn’t even wait for her to say bye before I was bursting out of the bathroom, racing down the hall, and getting into Adam’s office just in time to hear him snap at me.
“Why didn’t you send the research to Knox’s team?”
I blinked.
It was like smacking face-first into a brick wall as I stopped dead in my tracks, my pulse jumping at the look of pure, undisguised fury on Adam’s face.
“What?”
“The research. From the first meeting,” Adam said tightly. “They asked for it on Tuesday. I thought you’d sent it by Wednesday. But they just called right now saying they never got it.”
I stared, the realization hitting me like another pile of bricks. “Adam, I…”
I frowned to myself.
I’d spaced. I realized that as I remembered the email from Knox’s team on Tuesday. I remembered Adam reminding me about it. And then I just… forgot about it.
Fuck.
I hadn’t made a mistake this dumb since my first month on the job and suddenly all I wanted was to crawl into a hole. But I forced myself to get past the mortification so I could remedy the situation.
“I’m so sorry, Adam. It won’t happen again. I’m going to send it right now,” I said, barely finishing my sentence before he cut in.
