03

“No, I’ll go,” Cameron said. He dashed out of the car without giving Anderson the opportunity to protest.

Through the window, I watched Cameron move through the shower, raindrops turning his shirt dark.

“He’s too kind, isn’t he?” Anderson said. “He must know that I have to keep healthy for my upcoming vacation.”

This was his last week at work before taking his annual leave. He was going to the beach with his grandchildren. I could tell he was excited because he told me about the holiday approximately twenty-seven times. Usually, it made me smile because it reminded me of my own great uncle, who, when I was a kid, would tell me about his childhood exploits over and over until I knew each story by heart. But today, as Anderson told me once again about his upcoming holiday, I let my mind wander as I stared through the car window. The rain was thicker now, crashing violently against the concrete pavement.

The worst thing about Cameron was that he was a genuinely good guy. He made nervous interns laugh, remembered the names of his coworkers’ children, andalways had a smile for everyone. At first, I wondered whether he was trying to charm everyone as part of some office politics tactic, but I soon realized he was thoughtful, even when no one was watching.

An imposing physique and a kind heart. That was another reason why I felt so guilty when I fantasized about firing him: because he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve the way I resented him, just because of how he looked.

The automatic glass doors of the building slid open, and Cameron dashed through. He was already soaked from the rain, which had gotten worse since then. He spread out a black umbrella above him, clasping a second umbrella in his other hand. As he approached, I saw with stomach-twisting clarity that his light shirt had turned almost translucent and clung to the musculature of his body.

He opened the door and passed the unopened umbrella to Anderson, then extended his hand to me. I let him help me out of the car, completely shielded by the umbrella he held over us.

Gently, he led me to the office building. He was so close, but carefully made sure his damp clothes didn’t touch mine. My skin was humiliatingly hot. Why was I reacting this way? I didn’t even get this flustered for important meetings.

When we reached the building, Cameron let me go inside first. My heels clicked against the sleek tile flooring as I rushed inside, coldness settling on my skin from thechill of the rain outside. I turned just as Cameron stepped inside, closing the umbrella and giving his head a light shake to dry off his hair. My eyes darted right back down to his visible chest.

Was my heart really pounding over the sight of a sculpted torso? Had it really been that long?

When I lifted my eyes, I saw Cameron peering at me, almost looking curious. Or was it amusement?

I couldn’t read his expression, but guilt was heavy in my gut. I tore my eyes away from him and smoothed down my blouse and skirt, my face burning. While I couldn’t control my feelings, I could control my actions. I reminded myself that as much as I wanted him, I couldn’t have him. He was my employee, nothing more.

“Alison! Hello?”

I blinked. The sounds of glass clinking and people talking to each other flooded back to my ears as my eyes shifted around, taking in the golden hue of the upscale bar’s lights and dark wood accents. My best friends, Brooke Collins and Emilia Park, were staring at me.

“Sorry. I have work on my mind,” I said before taking a sip of my martini, reminding myself that I was here to relax, not overthink. This was the personal commitment I’d spoken about with Cameron. I hadn’t been lying — it wasn’t a date, just a catch-up with my two friends I hadn’t seen in a while because of our busy work schedules.

Emilia brushed the straight, black strands of her hair behind her shoulders, a sly smile crossing her dark red-tinted lips. “Work? Really?”

“What part of work? Your next project? Or your hotassistant?” Brooke asked, wiggling her eyebrows as Emilia laughed.

Brooke and Emilia had been my friends since college. We’d bonded quickly because we were all career-focused, and we’d achieved our goals. I had my firm, Brooke was a successful lawyer, and Emilia was a consultant at a huge finance company.

We knew each other’s secrets, so of course they knew how I felt about Cameron, and they teased me about my crush constantly.

“No,” I protested, but the lie sounded flimsy, even to me.

“Your expression was a dead giveaway,” Brooke said. “I’d describe it as a mix of annoyance and dreaminess.”

“With a generous sprinkle of carnal desire,” Emilia added.

Annoyance, dreaminess, and carnal desire. How would that even show on a face?

“But don’t worry,” Emilia said. “The perfect solution will present itself tomorrow night.”

“The perfect solution?” I echoed.

Emilia took a long sip of her cocktail, keeping me in suspense. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten about your date. You've already rescheduled once. Do it again, and the poor man will think you're not into him.”

It took me a second to understand, then I straightened up, incredulous. “What do you mean the solution to Cameron Holmes is Russell MacArthur?”

Several weeks ago, Emilia had set up a blind date with an investment banker who worked in the same office building as her. If it was up to me, I’d cancel the date altogether — I had no interest in spending time with a literal stranger — but I didn’t want to be ungrateful.

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