Good thing I removed the fit watch. Otherwise, it’d be sending off all kinds of alarms at my heart stopping to beat due to mortification. When will my brain finally grasp that this is only work for Richard? Strictly business. No romantic agenda.

“You might’ve just dug your own grave.” I smirk vindictively.

“Why?”

“Because my readership would prefer something titled ‘One Day Shopping Spree in LA.’”

“Ah. You’re killing me.” Richard mockingly brings a hand to his chest. “Where should we start?”

“A walk towards the unique finds of Venice Beach, and then we’ll work our way up to Rodeo Drive.”

***

Richard bears the window-shopping like a man. From Venice to Beverly Hills to the Fashion District, he follows me around town not once complaining. I select a bunch of indie stores and interview the owners and designers. Richard is a good sport even when we try out a few male boutiques, going so far as to offer himself up as a human guinea pig—er, male model.

As we walk out of the umpteenth shop, Richard asks, “How much time do you need to get ready for tonight?”

“An hour, an hour and a half tops. Why? Should we already head back?”

Richard looks at his watch and sighs. “No, we’re good for another two hours or so.”

“Then what do you say we do something non-shopping related?”

The relief on his face is humorous.

“What did you have in mind?”

“A quick trip to Griffith Observatory. Everyone agrees it’s the one view in LA you can’t miss.”

“Will we have time? With traffic and everything.”

I check my phone. “The map app authority says it’s half an hour to get there and half an hour to get back to Santa Monica, even in traffic.”

“And how long from Santa Monica to downtown?”

I swap addresses. “Half an hour.”

Everything seems to be spaced half an hour away in LA.

“Then we’re good.”

Richard calls an Uber, and we ask the driver to wait for us as we do a quick tour of the observatory.

After taking a couple—okay, an unhealthy number—of pictures of the Hollywood sign, we make our way along the promenade that wraps around the main dome. We stop under an arch to admire the Los Angeles skyline. The day is clear, and the view stretches far into the distance.

“This city is ginormous,” I say. “I could never live here.”

“Because of the long drives?”

“No, the weather. Too hot.”

“I thought you’d enjoy the warmth.”

“Why?”

“You’re like fire.”

I stare up at him and find him gazing intensely at me.

“Let me guess, the hair? I get that a lot.”

“Yeah.” He nods, looking almost relieved. “The hair.”

Being this close to Richard, his scent fills my nostrils. Pine cones and rain. Even in sunny California, the boss still manages to smell like a cold winter day.