He disappeared into his office for a brief second and reappeared, carrying a laptop bag and jacket. As he barreled past me, I rose, chasing after him. He had quite the stamina for someone who looked like he was going to be sick at any given moment.

“Sir?” I hollered as he pressed the button for the elevator.

He turned, surprise written all over his face, as he waited for me to continue.

“Am I fired?” I asked.

“No!” he said rather loudly. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, given the events that transpired…” I stumbled out an explanation before he stopped me.

Mr. Cavenaugh took a step toward me. The depth and heat of his stare nearly had me retreating.

“Never happened,” he said firmly.

Before I could get out another word, perhaps an apology or more groveling, he repeated himself, this time a bit firmer, “It. Never. Happened. Understood?”

The warmth of his body, so close to mine made me weak in the knees. I could almost reach out and touch him.

Bad idea… bad idea.

“Yes, sir,” I answered, almost choking on each word.

“Good.” He turned toward the doors, effectively ending our conversation, as if I’d been erased from his memory once again.

“Oh, Mr. Cavenaugh?” I called out on my way back to my desk, my legs still shaking.

“Yes?” he answered, his eyes meeting mine, a bit of surprise hidden in those glittery green irises.

“You might want to take a shower before that meeting of yours. You smell like a hooker.”

Chapter Five

It was well past dark by the time I made it home.

After leaving the office in a haze of regret and disillusionment with an extreme hangover, I’d found myself being driven around the city in a loop as I silently watched the meter of a beat-up taxicab while it moved in and out of traffic with ease. City monuments and endless tourists had passed by in a blur. Families had been walking, hand in hand, and businessmen and women had trekked with sheer purpose and determination down the congested walkways, determined to get to their next meeting or lunch date. Their tight young faces had held fire and determination; they were the kings of their domain—or they were damn ready to be.

I knew that feeling well. It was one I carried with me nearly every day of the week.

But not today.

Today, I felt weak, insecure, and damn stupid.

I hadn’t had a meeting on Wall Street this afternoon. I’d made that lie up in a desperate attempt to flee the building when the walls began to close in around me.

It was that or lose my nonexistent lunch all over the floor.

I’d hit on my assistant. A damn employee.

What a fucking nightmare.