Page 6

Between phone calls and meetings, I eat my lunch at my desk. Alone. And it’s a lot like my dinners at home. Alone. I think that’s why I ended up getting Oliver.

As for the office version ofThe Bachelorette, Tathan takes Lizard Lips to lunch today. I’m not positive, but I think her name is Regina. Whatever her name is, she’ll be gone tomorrow, and Lizard Lips sounds better to me. It’s better that I don’t think of these women as having names because then I’d wonder how they can possibly let themselves fall into his trap.

Watching Lizard Lips prance around Tathan’s desk like a female cat in heat, I want to vomit.

Deliberately leading her on for his own amusement, Tathan smirks. “I’m sure that can be arranged,” he tells her, winking.

What the fuck are they talking about?

I don’t know why she’s getting excited by the lazy lift of his beautiful pouty lips. Tomorrow it will be a different girl. There’s absolutely nothing special about the way he’s treating her compared to what he says to every other woman in this office.

When Lizard Lips walks away, it’s everything I can do not to roll my eyes that women keep falling for this shit. It makes us look bad.

Does she not have any self-respect? Without a doubt, no way.

Tathan takes note of my obvious derision toward the mindless fuck leaving his domain. He waits for our eyes to make contact before whispering, “What?”

Disgusted, I make a gagging sound. “You’resick.”

“You know. . .” With a twinkle in his eyes, he laughs. “I’ve heard that sound a lot.”

Being naïve, it takes me a minute to understand the meaning behind the words. You get it, right? Or does it take you a minute too? I’ll save you the trouble. It means choking on a cock.

Twisting around in my chair, I face my computer. “I bet you have.”

NEEDING TO RUN some paperwork upstairs to payroll, I gather my folders and the mail to drop it off on my way.

“It’s my lucky day.”

Damn it. I really should check who’s in the elevator with me before I push the Close Door button. Anticipation and anxiety knot in my belly the moment I realize who I’m in the elevator with.

For my own safety, I make an effort never to be alone with Tathan in an elevator, but sometimes it happens.

“Come to dinner with me.” He breathes out the words, erotic and alluring, and it’s everything I can do not to grab his face and shove it between my legs.

With steady breaths on the wall, I don’t even look at him. “How do you keep your floozies straight and then have the audacity to ask me to dinner? As if saying no to lunch isn’t enough, you want to be shot down twice in one day?”

“Floozies?”

Can you believe he’s laughing? Making fun of me as usual. “You won’t go out with me because you think I have floozies?”

“No, that’s not why. I just don’t like you.” Blinking slowly, I shake my head and let out a sigh, as though it’s depressing to me he’s asked me out again. I stare at the glowing numbers on the elevator panel. “And I have plans.”

“Walking your dog and watching reruns ofFriendsisn’t plans.” Tathan steps closer, his warmth pressing to my side. He knows me pretty well, doesn’t he?

I shift, my heart racing, my skin prickling with thousands of needles, all telling me to run away from him. I don’t want to. I want his warmth, his presence, his hands on me.

With the gentle brush of our shoulders, he whispers, “I like it when you play hard to get. Gives me a challenge and I’m definitelyupfor a challenge.”

I’m sure you are.

Shoving him against the wall, I’m so tempted to kiss his beautiful lips and wipe the arrogant smirk off his god-like face. It’d be so easy and more than likely we’d both thoroughly enjoy it.

Luckily for me, I have willpower, unlike the women in this office. “I willnevergo out with you. Stop asking.”

That’s partially a lie because the idea of going out with him isn’t as awful as I make it out to be in my head. It’s actually dream-worthy, but I’m not about to tell him.

Catching himself against the wall, he laughs. “I like itrough,” he tells me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me hard against his chest, his lips about an inch from mine. “I bet you do, too, don’t you, Amalie?”