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“She’s a treasure,” Angus agrees.
My boss has never called me a treasure before.
Once he called me “obnoxiously punctual” and another time he said my handwriting was neat. That’s about it.
“Well,” Sullivan says, “I won’t keep you two—I just dropped by to give Theo a quick kiss.”
“Oh,” Angus says, a little startled.
Nobody ever ends conversations with Angus first.
Even I’m surprised. I thought the whole point of this was for Sullivan to make some kind of pitch?
But now he’s waltzing out of here like the point was that dance.
“See you tonight, sweetie,” he says.
And before I can think or react, he hooks his arm around my waist, tugs me close, and plants a kiss on my lips.
His mouth lands on mine, soft, rough, and warm. His scent wraps around me like a blanket.
It’s a chaste kiss, no tongue, with my boss watching from a foot away.
And yet, when Sullivan pulls back, my legs are wobbling and the only thing holding me up is his arm around my waist.
What. Is. Happening.
Angus watches with a strange expression on his face.
“You know,” he says abruptly, “you should bring him on the yacht next week. What do you think, Sullivan? Want to cruise out to Catalina Island?”
“I’d love to come,” Sullivan says before I can so much as blink. “Nice to meet you, Angus.”
He gives Angus another firm handshake.
Angus looks almost as dazzled as I am.
That bad feeling is only getting worse.
“I’ll walk you out,” I croak.
The momentwe’re out of my boss’ eyesight, I grab Sullivan by the sleeve of his fancy suit and drag him behind a potted plant.
“What the hell was that? That isnotwhat we agreed.”
“I know.” Sullivan shrugs. “But ‘old high school friend’ doesn’t have quite the same cachet. Besides, this is going to take more than one conversation. You’ll be seeing a lot of me.”
“What’sgoing to take more than one conversation?” I whisper-shriek. “And no, no I won’t be because I’m not doing this! I’m not going to pretend you’re my boyfriend! I’m already in this mess for lying to Angus. If he finds out I snuck some scamartist into his circle, he’ll cut my throat! Professionally speaking, of course, but honestly, it might be better if he literally cut my throat. Because I won’t be able to get a job flipping burgers at McDonald’s after this.”
Sullivan cocks his head, studying my face. “I don’t remember you being this dramatic.”
“Medramatic! You were like fucking Daniel Day-Lewis back there, method acting how in love you are…I’m a lucky guy…that’s creepy, man! How are you so good at that?”
“It’s called self-control,” Sullivan calmly states. “You should give it a go sometime. And that’s not ‘love’…just a nice, heady six months’ worth of infatuation.”
“Have you ever been in love?” My eyebrows must be rising off my face.
“No,” Sullivan says, without having to think about it. “But when I am, you won’t hear me spouting off nonsense like that. I’ll have something real to say because she’ll have changed my life.”
