Page 1 of Tall, Dark, and Grumpy

1

CASSIE

Tonight, I am going to lose my V-card.

Probably.

I’m telling myself that this doesn’t have anything to do with my gorgeous new boss who has awakened my previously snoozing libido. I’m just at a bar with my housemates, like a sane person, instead of working all night with Mr Blackwood. Again.

I tug my dress down over my bottom. Next to me, my three housemates are giggling.

“Oh my god, we should have shots!” exclaims Julie.

“I can get them,” I say eagerly. I’m keen for my housemates to like me, and help me find someone to spend the night with. Teach me their slutty ways, and to like boys in their twenties. So far all I can see is guys who are like baby dolphins: all smooth chests, wet-look hair, and disturbingly shiny white teeth.

Eeeee-eee, throw me a fish!

Not my thing.

I’m more of a bear girl. I like men who are big, slightly terrifying, six-foot-three, grizzly, dark-brown hair, blue eyes… No. I’m not thinking about Mr Blackwood this evening. I will learn to like dolphins, and be part of the conversation withoutbeing awkward. Buying more alcohol is a rare social situation I’m certain I can manage.

“My new boss?—”

Polly and Tamara catch each other’s eyes and collapse into laughter, chinking their glasses and drinking.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing, nothing.” Tamara smirks.

Polly whispers something into Tamara’s ear and I get an unwelcome sinking feeling in my tummy. I don’t fit with them. They’re effortlessly wearing their fashionable dresses, but I look like a sack of potatoes in almost the exact same thing. I swallow my discomfort.

“Well, my new boss?—”

They giggle again and clink glasses.

“He gave me a pay raise, so we can celebrate.” A very generous pay raise to go with the insane hours he expects me to work. Mr Blackwood is new to London, and he took over the Esher mafia which owns the company I work for as an accountant. I’m now the head of finance, which is crazy given I’m twenty-two.

“Sure,” Polly says, knocking back the last of her flute of champagne.

“Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be back with drinks!” I say brightly.

Julie isn’t listening, she’s looking around the room. Polly and Tamara are deep in conversation, leaning together to whisper.

I make my way to the bar. It’s quiet for a Friday. Well, I assume it is. I’m not great with this sort of thing.

But I’m having a good time. I am.

Probably.

I am not thinking about Mr Blackwood and what he’s doing tonight after I said earlier that I had somewhere to be, and couldn’t work late. I am not wishing I was at work, called into his office, or suddenly sensing his dark and grouchy presencebehind me before he growls something like, “That light isn’t bright enough, stop straining your eyes,” or “Sit up straight.”

At the bar I glance around while I wait to be served. A few men catch my eye despite my being plain, even in this short cream dress. I have long mid-brown hair and pale blue eyes, and I’m curvy. Not special.

One guy tries to hold my gaze though. Not my type. I look down at my hands and I’m thankful when a barman approaches.

“Four shots, please.”

“What sort?” he says impatiently.