“Damien, executives can do what they want. Secretaries can’t. Everyone talks and watches and gossips and they already think it was odd that I went to Punta Cana with you. And they are all catching on to the fact that I’m bursting out my clothes.”

“And quite beautifully.” He couldn’t help but glance at her chest again.

“Oh, stop it, you lecher,” she said, laughing. “You know, I’m going to have to quit this job. If we’re going to be involved, that is.”

“We are.” He was firm on that point. Beyond firm. He was concrete-solid, steel determination.

“There are too many conflicts of interest. I don’t want everyone in the office talking about me.”

“So we’ll just switch you with someone else’s assistant. You don’t have to quit.” He didn’t want to be the cause of that. He didn’t want to give her any stress or cause to worry about her health benefits. “Though it brings me to tears to give you up, I can see the wisdom of us not working directly together.”

She laughed. “What a gesture. You mean, you’ll be willing to go on the Great Assistant Hunt all over again? Just for me. How sweet.”

“Sweet is not normally a word used to describe me. But yes, I’ll suffer through another Lanie for you.” He was starting to think he’d do just about anything for Mandy. “Anyway, I’m trying to tell you something.”

“What’s that?” Mandy took a sip of her Diet Coke and licked her lips.

Damien frowned. He’d been so busy staring at her breasts he hadn’t really noticed what she’d ordered. “Should you be drinking that? They’re really not sure about the safety of aspartame.”

She was still smiling, but her eyes got a little sharp. “I’m just going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“What? You read the book—didn’t it say that?” He hadn’t dreamt that. He hadn’t even slept the night before.

“I’m not giving up Diet Coke.” Her fingers tightened around the glass. “I’ve given up coffee, deli meat, sushi, sleeping on my back, taking an aspirin when I have a headache. I’ve given up all pretensions of modesty, I’ve given up my shop, and I’ve given up wine and all other forms of alcohol. I am not giving up my Diet Coke when there’s no proof whatsoever that it’s harmful.”

Meow. Geez, here was the irritable thing, apparently. Damien reached for a compromise. “So, just drink regular Coke, then. It doesn’t have aspartame.”

“It only has about five thousand calories that I do not need since my bum is spreading even as we speak.”