“That’s all right with me,” he answers easily and I lean into the button, keeping it held down as my head throbs again and my eyes close with frustration.

“Is it all right if I come up?”

“Of course,” I answer out of instinct. “Come on up,” I tell him and then hit the buzzer to let him up. My heart races as I consider why he’s here. I know why, deep down. It’s my fault. I led him on.

A sarcastic laugh leaves me as I throw my head back and wipe my tired eyes with my hands. How self-centered and presumptuous I am to think he’s here for anything other than business. I ignore the guilt and the worry that riddle my body and glance in the large oval mirror in the foyer as I wait for Jacob to make his way up the stairs.

There are bags under my eyes and a smattering of eyeliner from yesterday still remaining. I wipe carefully under them and pull my hair back, but I still don’t look professional. My simple black leggings and a baggy shirt are made somewhat better by slipping on a crocheted sweater. It’s better than nothing, laid back at the very best. I find it hard to care that much about my appearance as I open the front door.

I’m caught off guard as he walks up the stairs and comes into view. Of course I look like hell when he looks charming in a relaxed kind of way. His hair is ruffled, but probably gelled to look like it’s slightly messy. It’s his stubble, though, that gets me. I have a type, and Jacob fits that type to a T. Maybe that’s how I know this is going to be trouble.

He gives me a wide smile and doesn’t seem to care about my appearance in the least.

“I was just going to call it an early night,” I lie, trying to stand with dignity in front of Jacob.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, Kat.” It’s odd hearing him call me Kat. Most of my clients don’t use my nickname. It’s too casual. A type of casual I usually put an end to immediately, but I can’t bring myself to correct him.

“What are you doing here, Jacob?” I ask warily. We don’t have an appointment, and quite frankly I’m not in a state to be professional.

“It’s Jake, remember?” he answers playfully and God help me, but I blush. “I was wondering if I could maybe take you out for coffee? I was hoping for dinner. If not tonight, then …”