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“Sophia Gallo,” I inform him without missing a beat.
“One moment, Ms. Gallo.” He touches his earbud and waits a moment, then speaks quietly.
The seconds tick by slowly as my heart races, and I subtly take a deep breath, but it doesn’t help much. He starts tapping away on a keyboard and nervous butterflies swarm in my stomach.
Come on, what’s taking so long?
He’s going to kick me out, I know it. Lucas probably doesn’t even remember me. But despite my doubts, the receptionist gestures me forward, and I’m on my way to the elevators with verbal instructions on how to get where I’m going.
Holy crap. It actually worked.
Lucas’s office is on the top floor, because of course it is. Where else would it be? The elevator is pressed up to the glass on the outside of the building, letting me watch Los Angeles fall away beneath me.Oof. Hello, vertigo.I wipe one sweaty palm after the other on my skirt, and praying one last time that this will work. I don’t know who, or what, I’m praying to, but I hope someone out there is listening.
A softdingchimes out when I reach the top, startling me. I jump, almost drop the cupcakes, and scurry out of the elevator with my heart racing. I take a breath, trying to recover myself before anyone sees me. Unfortunately, it’s too late for that. There’s a secretary watching me over the top of her glasses, her disdain barely hidden behind her practiced smile.
“Ms. Gallo?” she asks.
“Um, yes, that’s me,” I squeak before clearing my throat.
“This way, please.”
She steps out from behind the marble-topped desk and across the plush, sky-blue carpet without making a sound. I follow her to a heavy reddish-brown door with a small gold-plated plaque on it, engraved with the words:LUCAS HALE – CEO.
These forty-dollar cupcakes are starting to look like peasant food. But it’s the thought that counts, right? Even to billionaires?
She opens the door and speaks coolly. “Mr. Hale? Ms. Gallo has arrived.”
I don’t hear his answer, but she steps aside and ushers me in. His office is even more glamorous than the rest of the building. It’s not all bedazzled or anything, and I’m not even sure which of the details leads me to believe that each piece of furniture in the room cost more than I’ve made in my entire adult life, but I’m suddenly extremely conscious of my scuffed soles and uneven fingernails. Dark, glossy woods, luxurious and rich fabrics, polished metals. My mind doesn’t really give anything shape or more defining features than that, because I’m pulled into Lucas Hale like he has a gravitational field of his own.
Those amber eyes. Holy shit, they burn like the sun, but somehow even more brilliant.
He gives me a hooded smile from behind his expensive looking desk.
“Sophia,” he greets me, his voice a deep rumble, alluring and dangerous.
He’s so sharply dressed that he could draw blood with a glance. There isn’t a single wrinkle in the black fabric or an inch of excess material. It’s tailored perfectly to him. As I watch him stand up and stride toward me, everything else seems to fade away into a hazy background. Every step of his rumbles through my chest like an earthquake, and I stay rooted to the spot as he approaches.
When he reaches me, he gestures to the box in my hands, delight lingering on the edges of his bemusement.
“What’s this?” he asks.
A peace offering? A bribe?A distraction.
“Cupcakes,” I blurt out. “I, um, I wanted to come by and thank you properly for saving my life.”
His mouth twitches slightly and his eyes darken a shade, making me realize that there was an odd, slightly suggestive tone to how I pronouncedproperly. Overcompensating for the real reason I’m here, I guess. I can feel a dark blush taking over my cheeks.
Say something, Sophia. Say anything.
“I hope you like sweet things,” I blurt, rushing over to his desk and plopping the box down.
He’s behind my left shoulder, moving slowly around his desk to return to his chair, lingering with his body near mine.
“I like sinful things,” he murmurs.
The low rumble of his voice almost knocks me on my ass. I lock my knees to stay standing and pray that it doesn’t actually look like I’m only keeping myself upright by leaning on his desk.
“You should stay and have one with me,” he states.
