Back at Serena’s, I changed into sweats, spooned out a massive bowl of ice cream, and settled onto the couch for some binge-watching. In the back of my mind, I knew I should power up my laptop and continue my hunt for a job, but it felt pointless right now.

As the episodes flashed before my eyes, I let my mind get lost in a world full of cakes, competitions, and British accents. A few drops of chocolate ice cream splashed onto my cream sweatshirt, and I found myself with my tongue halfway to the stain before I realized exactly what I was doing. God, I was a mess.

I paused the bakeoff show and drifted into the tiny cubicle of a bathroom to hunt for something to clean my shirt when Serena’s door buzzer blared through the quiet apartment. I jumped, knocking my head against the medicine cabinet. Pain flickered through my forehead. Wincing, I pressed my hand against my head and found a massive bruise already forming.

I peered at myself in the mirror. Yep, there was a lump, and it was already turning blue.

Sighing, I padded out of the bathroom and pushed the intercom. “Who is it?”

A hissing crackle followed, and then his voice. The one I’d never forget. “It’s Asmodeus. Is this Mia? I need to speak with you for a few moments.”

I stumbled back and stared at the intercom like it would bite me if I got too close. Heart shaking, I crossed the floor and poked my head out the window. I spotted him through the slats in the fire escape. There he was, wearing those low-slung jeans and a fitted black shirt. In the full light of day, he looked even more mouthwatering than he had in his shadowy club.

How the hell was that possible?

Suddenly, he dropped back his head and gazed up at me. “Hello, Mia. Are you going to let me in?”

“Fuck.” I ducked back inside and crouched out of sight. I couldn’t let him see me like this. I was wearing stained sweats and my forehead was turning blue. I looked like hell.

Why does that matter?!

This was the asshole who hadn’t given me the job because I looked…well, like this, probably. Ugh! Why was he even here?

“Mia!” he called out. His voice sounded like it was right by my ear. I jumped and darted away from the window, trying to still my racing heart. Maybe he’d come here about the job. Not that I wanted it anymore. “Just give me five minutes of your time.”

As much as I wanted to turn him away, my curiosity poked up its eager little head. Five minutes. And then he had to go. Before I could rethink my decision, I pushed the button and let him into the building.

5