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Stop sparking, sparks!

"You look pale," my boss observes broodingly.

"I'm fine."

"Did you eat breakfast?"

Since when does Adriano Kontides care about my eating habits?

"I had coffee."

"Coffee isn't food."

"Says the man who considers espresso a food group."

He almost smiles.Almost. But because I'm suddenly terrified of whatcouldhappen if he does.

"The judge is in a mood today," I relay under my breath.

"And you trust your sources about this?"

I nod.

"Thank you." I'm pretty sure he'll find a way to use this to his advantage, just like how he always does. He's the kind of man youneverwant to lower your guard around. Give him an inch, and he'll end up taking a mile.

"Anything else?"

I consider his question seriously, and that's when I see it.

Double ugh.

But...I've done this a thousand times before, and so all I can do is croak out the truth.

"Your tie's crooked."

So please, please, please just fix it yourself.

But instead, my boss keeps his gaze on the documents as he says, "Fix it then."

Grrrr.

I reach for his silk tie with hands that stupidly tremble. I do my best to ignore the muscular heat of his chest.

C'mon, fingers. Move faster, will you?

I find myself needing to move just a little closer to knot it at the perfect angle.

Ugh.

But this also means being close enough to have me biting my lip at the scent of his aftershave.

Why does he always have to smell so...yummy?

I end up yanking his knot a little too tight in my anxiety, and his dark head lifts up sharply.

Oops.

I adjust the knot and take a step back. "All done."