“I don’t know. I guess because I thought he was just another rich guy in a suit—someone Henry hired. I was taken aback by the attraction. He just went for it, but not in a way I was used to.” I’ve never felt this way about someone, and I don’t know if this is what I want.

“How so?” She studies me.

“He was aggressive, but not. Well, not at first. I knew he wanted me, but he didn’t ask me out or anything. I kept trying to give him the cold shoulder, but he would still try to talk to me.”

Penelope is full-on smiling now.

“What?”

She gives a little shrug.

“What? Tell me.”

“He can tell you’re like a skittish cat. You’ve got claws like Mom does, and he’s slowly trying to move close to you. He’s trying not to spook you too much, but he keeps coming.”

I shake my head while a lump forms in my throat. “He stopped coming,” I admit, and watch her eyes go soft. Then they harden and narrow. “What’s his name?”

I can’t help but laugh at the sound she makes. “You really should have your husband teach you how to growl better.”

“Hey, I can still kick some ass. Don’t let the belly fool you.”

“There’s more,” I confess, and then proceed to tell her everything about the night at the bar.

“That doesn’t mean he’s done chasing.” Penny glares at me. “He wants you.”

“I guess, but still, it’s been days, and the only time he talks to me is when he has to. I mean, I’ve run into him, like, five times a day, and nothing. He stares at me with those eyes I can’t get out of my head.”

“Does he work on your freaking floor or something?”

“No. Why?”

“Because that building is so big that no one is running into each other five times a day. Not unless they work in the lobby or on the same floor.”

I think about what she’s saying, and I suspect she might be right. “He’s running into me on purpose,” I say, and the realization makes me smile.

“Yep. He’s trying to get you to finally admit you want him. He’s giving you chance after chance to make your move.”

I let her words sink in, and I bite my lip, thinking it over. Why does the idea of him softly stalking me make me happy?

“Oh my God, you’re blushing.”

“Shut up,” I scoff.

“Why are you running, Pan? You’re not a runner. In fact, if I remember right, you’re a secret cuddlebug.”

“I am not a cuddler,” I lie. I had every intention of coming in here to cuddle with her.