Page 6 of Arranged Addiction

“He’ll be picturing himself going to town on either end, I bet.”

“Natalie!” I throw the lipstick tube at her. She laughs, batting it aside. “This is professional.”

“Then what’s with the tits? And the lacy bra?”

“Hedging my bets. He said to wear something venue appropriate, and it’sDolce Vita.”

“Good point, but still.”

“We’re just going to discuss work stuff, that’s all it is. I bet I’ll get there and he’ll have some other girl at the table. He’ll probably ask me to take notes.”

“God, can you imagine?” She laughs lightly, but her smile quickly fades. “Oh my god, do you think that’s actually going to happen?”

“I mean, it’s totally possible.”

“I’ll kick him in the teeth if he puts you through that.”

“Honestly?” I sit down next to her with a groan. “I’d prefer that over the alternative.”

She gives me a consoling pat on the leg. “What if this is a date though? What are you going to do?”

“Freak out, probably.”

“Are you going to call himDeclan?”

“Wow, can you imagine? I’ve never used his first name before. It’s always Mr. Whelan or sir.”

She grins and waggles her eyebrows. “I bet heloveshearing you say sir.”

“Stop it. Not helpful.”

“Would it be that terrible though? I mean, seriously, he’s hot as hell and rich as sin. The guy’s family is crazy connected. And I bet he’s into some seriously weird and fun bedroom stuff.”

I hold up a hand to stop her right there. “I’m not interested.”

“Are you sure? Knowing your track record, you should probably take what you can get, right? Boss Bastard is a terror in the boardroom, but between the sheets, I bet he’s?—”

“Not interested!” I repeat, cutting her fantasy off. “I’m only going because he’s my employer and because I feel bad about the whole sex toys and lingerie mix-up. I’ll eat with him, we’ll discuss work stuff, and I’ll be home by nine sharp. It’ll be fine.”

“But what if it’s not?”

“I’ll text you, how about that? If you don’t hear from me by, let’s say, ten tonight, make sure you call and text like there’s some kind of emergency, okay?”

“I can do that,” she says slowly. “But are you sure? Declan Whelan is gorgeous, and besides?—”

“And besides nothing. This is professional.” I check my phone. It’s time. I get to my feet, wobbling slightly. “I’ll text you soon, okay?”

Mr. Whelan’sdriver leaves me at the door ofDolce Vita. It’s in a hip West Village neighborhood and looks like an old-style Italian restaurant had a baby with a Starbucks, which is apparently cool these days.

The hostess takes me straight back despite the crowd waiting around. I catch a few annoyed stares, but I don’t let them bother me. I’m used to a little bit of privilege from working for Mr. Whelan over the years.

Mainline Logistics is a successful and large shipping corporation. The company has a little piece of pretty much every truck that leaves or goes through the greater New York City region. As the CEO, that would make Mr. Whelan powerful enough, but I swear sometimes it’s more than that.

His name opens doors. More doors than should be available to a shipping guy. Natalie said his family is connected, but that’s mostly a rumor. He’s got a bunch of brothers and from what I hear, they’re all rich and successful in a bunch of different businesses scattered all over the city. But it’s nothing more nefarious than lots of money flowing through Whelan bank accounts.

I find myself wobbling toward a small table in a very nice, quiet part of the restaurant. I slow, staring, and find Mr. Whelan is already waiting for me.

And for a second, I can’t breathe.