First there were the beans, which I had to special order and pick up in person on the Upper West Side. Half Italian Espresso, half Sidamo, which I had to mix by hand because the two beans could not comingle until they were about to be ground. Once they were appropriately pulverized, I had to make his triple shot espresso, and froth his oat milk to perfection. The beverage was poured into his three-hundred-dollar coffee cup then placed on a gleaming silver Tiffany & Co. tray, next to a crisply starched linen napkin. On a small plate I served him one—never ever two—piece of almond biscotti, which Carlos, my go-to courier for Upper Manhattan and the Bronx, picked up for me at the boss’s favorite bakery on Arthur Avenue. If you asked me, the man had the tastes and sleep cycle of an Italian octogenarian with mob ties, but I was not paid to have opinions.

I tossed back my own double shot of very premium java—one of the perks of the job—tucked the iPad with my boss’s schedule under my arm and turned in the direction of the elevator.

“Are you telling him today?” Natasha whispered as I breezed by her desk. I bit my lip, glancing down at my wrist on instinct. I had five minutes to get up to the thirty-fifth floor.

“Yeah,” I said, as my heartbeat picked up speed.

“Good.” She nodded in my peripheral vision, an encouraging smile on her face. “Then you better get up there and do it!” She swatted my butt. “Do not let him detract you with that sculpted chest!”

Chapter Two

Alba

Seven floors hardly took a minute and I walked into the pool area with thirty seconds to spare. Which meant I was an audience of one for the sexiest fucking ten seconds known to humanity, aka Theo Ganas emerging from his pool just as the sun was coming up over New York City. Almost three years of getting this same show five times a week, and my pulse still rose to dangerous levels whenever I caught a glimpse of him punching out of the water like a Poseidon with better hair and a double dose of melanin.

I could not move if I tried.

My legs were rooted in place and my entire range of vision was swallowed up by all that sinewy power. Typically I’d let myself look for just a few seconds before I focused on something else, but today my eyeballs took him in with reckless abandon. I raked my gaze over the ridiculously massive thighs encased in navy blue spandex, glistening with droplets of water all over an expanse of bronzed and sculpted everything. A buzzing started in my head when I gleaned the world’s most erotic treasure trail. It was enough to make me swallow my tongue. Jesus, my eyelids were sweating.