Page 63

Mackenzie
Istare down at the message on my iPhone, chewing at my lip as I debate what to do.
Gabriel:Movie night at my place tonight? Since we’re friends and all.
On the one hand, it’s a perfectly reasonable suggestion by a friend. I’ve watched movies at Diana’s before. And back when I actually socialized before work consumed my life, I did at other friend’s apartments too.
But this… this is different. And he knows it.
After our conversation at the face painting booth, which admittedly got way out of hand, it’s a little harder to pretend we’re only friends. Not when I’m having sex dreams about him and he’s jacking off to me.
My cheeks heat just remembering his intense expression as he’d told me that. The way my belly had jumped. The instant dampness between my thighs.
“Don’t you ever take a day off?”
I shove my phone in my desk drawer as Diana steps into my office, a smirk on her face.
“Do you?” I counter with.
“Touche,” she laughs, taking a seat in one of the paisley chairs in front of me. “Are you busy?”
“Not especially.” I’m supposed to be creating a final invoice for the additional work on Danielle’s party yesterday. She didn’t have to pay the face painter, but I’m damn well charging her a comparable cost for what Gabriel did for her.
“I still can’t believe how amazing this office looks,” she says, gazing around.
“I know.” It’s part of the reason I’m here even more now, besides the extra business Gabriel’s brought me. It’s so pretty in here. And in my secret heart of hearts, being here reminds me of him.
“Seriously, though. You’re here all the time.” She tilts her head in exasperated affection, flipping her long hair back over her shoulder. “But thanks to you moving your office here, I at least finally have the money to hire someone part-time to cover the register on weekday mornings. You should do the same. So you can breathe some. Take a break.”
“I’m not hereallthe time.”
She gives me a level look. “Being out with a client doesn’t count.”
“I’m going over to a friend’s house tonight,” I tell her, picking up the papers in front of me to shuffle them around. Well, I guess I made my decision then.
“Really?” she asks, her dark brows popping up. “Is it one of your old friends from your last job?”
“Um, no.”
“Then who?”
Who is she, the friend police? “Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re being evasive,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.
“It’s Gabriel,” I shrug. “Happy?”
“Your client? Like with him and his fiancee?”
“Just him.” I pull up my accounting software on my computer, finally ready to make that invoice.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? He’s engaged.”
“It’s fine.” I’ll go over and watch a movie, no big deal. We’re two adults. We can control ourselves.
Obviously.
“And his fiancee doesn’t mind?”