“Dad’s birthday is tomorrow, but we’re celebrating it today,” he says. “It’s a surprise party. Mom wanted you there, but as I explained to her, you already made plans with your parents.”

“You’re still living your fantasy. Why don’t you tell them we’re over?”

“On his birthday?” He shakes his head. “That’d be harsh, not even the ice queen would do that, would she?”

I huff and offer him the flowers he left me. “Take your flowers.”

He shakes his head. “If you don’t want to keep them, give them to your Mom as a welcome present. It’s from the two of us.”

“You have your own mother. Leave mine alone.”

“See you soon, baby. I have to run a few errands for my parents before heading to their place.” He winks and goes back inside his apartment.

This morning Miller didn’t knock on my door, nor did he wait for me to walk to work. I should be relaxed and happy. He finally got the message. Except, when I arrive at the office, he’s right next to the elevator, holding two cups of coffee and smiling at me.

“Good morning, Clarice,” he greets me, handing me a cup.

“Hannibal.” I take the cup and squint. “What is this?”

“Tea,” he says, calling the elevator.

“I meant, why are you waiting for me with a drink in hand?”

“We had an early meeting with a client in France,” he answers. “The least I could do is welcome you to the office before you start your day.”

I look at my watch. “It’s not even seven in the morning. Let me have a nice morning before you show up with some bizarre gesture. I don’t have time to figure out your scheme.”

As we arrive at the twentieth floor, he says, “Have a good morning. I’ll see you soon.”

When he said I’ll see you soon, I assumed Thursday when we had to meet at the airport. Nope, he meant eleven-thirty. He brought me food. The receptionist didn’t stop him, and conveniently, Danielle wasn’t by her desk.

“Huh,” he says as he enters. “My office is right on top of yours. We could always swap. I know how much you enjoy being on top too.”

“Get out of my office,” I order, pressing my legs together.

This man has to stop talking to me. Everything he says just sets me on fire. I’m about to jump out of my chair and push him on the couch so I can ride him.

“You’re being unprofessional,” I say. “Danielle, why did you let him in?”

“She’s not around,” he says.

Well, isn’t he helpful? He sets a bag on top of my desk. “Warm it up in the microwave. You can bring the bag and the containers over to my apartment after work and I’ll feed you.”