Her phone rang and she hesitated answering since she was on Eli’s clock, but then figured he wouldn’t notice anyway. He spent every day entrenched in…something, rarely coming out of his office. This job had become like monitoring a wild animal. Feed it, stay out of its way, and try not to disrupt its normal and natural pattern.
“Chloe, hey.” Isa stood from the table and half ran/half walked to the kitchen where there was an additional partial wall between her and Eli.
“Sorry, hon. No luck.”
“Did you try Tracy?”
“Yeah, he’s getting married that day.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“I know. Unlucky, right? I heard back from the other guys on your list.” Chloe had started reaching out to Isa’s professional and personal male friends last week to ask if they could attend a social event with her. Isa hadn’t elaborated further.
“And the rest of them?”
“All nos.” The sound of Chloe flipping through pages of notes accompanied the saddest checklist ever. “Brandon is out of town for work, and Nathan said his wife would kill him.”
“My gosh, Nathan is married too?”
“Uh-huh. And Travis and”—more paper flipping—“Jacob and Antonio…No, wait, Antonio isn’t married. He’s gay and his partner’s birthday is that weekend.”
“Stop.” Isa couldn’t take any more. “I’ll have to make a plan B.”
“Escort service?” Chloe joked.
Isa groaned. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“What do you need a date for anyway?”
Isa would gladly have avoided this conversation altogether but found herself in need of a sympathetic ear. She lowered her voice and cupped her hand to the phone. “My parents are trying to get Josh and me back together.”
There was a measured silence. “Why?”
“The usual.” She dropped her hand. “Breeding of the strong bloods, world takeover, yada yada.” Isa kept her voice down when she added, “I told them I was dating someone. I didn’t think it’d be this hard to find a stand-in by the time of the banquet.” Yet here she was: dateless, and the ceremony was next week.
“Crap.”
“Yeah.”
“What about my brother?” Chloe chirped. “He’s twenty-three but very mature.”
“Absolutely not.”
“He looks older.”
“The idea was to be discreet and keep everything professional. Plus, doesn’t your brother live in Maryland with your family?”
“Good point.”
“Thanks for trying.” Isa walked from the kitchen to the living room, careful not to say anything too revealing. “I’ll work it out on my end.”
“You sound formal. Are you pretending to work in case you’re overheard by Beast Crane?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Would you settle for a pretend girlfriend? I look great in a cocktail dress.”
Isa let loose a laugh as she paced back to the dining room table. “I’ll consider it. There would be the added bonus of stealing Josh’s thunder.”
“Sable!” came a shout from Eli’s office.
“He does not call you that.” Chloe gasped.
“He does.”
“It’s kind of sexy, though. Don’t you think?”
She did. For some reason, whenever he bellowed her nickname, shivers tracked down her spine. And not in a bad way.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Gotta go.” Isa hung up on her friend and dropped her phone on the table, straightening her outfit for maximum Bettie Pageness on her way to Eli’s office.
* * *
Isabella was clacking around his warehouse—he could hear those spike heels every time she stepped off the carpeting onto the concrete. His concentration had been interrupted several times in the last hour. He looked away from the calendar reminder announcing his friend was arriving soon to shout her name. Again.
“Sable!” There was a pause in her steps; then those steps came his direction. The closer the clacking drew, the tighter his gut went. She’d been here, what, two weeks now? Every damn time he saw her, that tightness extended from his gut to his chest the moment she poked her head—
“Yes, Eli.” She leaned in, wrapping her hand around the edge of the wall, her dark hair coasting over one shoulder, her nails pale and manicured, her eyes catlike as she gave him a slow blink. He absolutely did not look at her cleavage, on display in a ruffly white shirt she’d paired with a black skirt that ended demurely below her knees.
“Your shoes are irritating,” he said through his teeth.
“These?” She pointed a toe in a pair of shiny black heels that led to delicate ankles and the tempting swell of her calves. He shifted his legs beneath the desk, because it was either that or bite his knuckle in sexual frustration.
“Yes. Wear something quieter. Those are disruptive.” Each time he heard her clacking, he had to mentally restrain his imagination.
Oh, the places it could go…
“What, like Crocs?” she asked.
He gave her a bland look.
“Apologies, Eli, but I’m not changing my shoes.” She came into his office, her hips swaying with each sure step she took toward him.
“Fine. Then you’re fired.”
“Oh, no, not again.” She smiled, her lush mouth tipping at both ends. She lifted his empty coffee cup from his desk. “Refill?”
He breathed in the spicy scent of her perfume. How was it that she smelled like exotic temptation? He’d be damned if he was going to tell her to change her perfume. Then she might ask why he didn’t like it, which wasn’t the case at all.
He liked it way too much.
“No,” he said.
She started away from him.
“Wait.”
She spun on that spindle of a heel and cocked her head. “Yeeees?”
“Sit.”
“I’m not a dog, Eli.”
He raked his teeth over his bottom lip and called up his patience. “Ms. Sawyer, won’t you have a seat?”
“I’d love to,” she chimed, sitting prettily after relinquishing his empty mug to one corner of his desk.
“I heard you on the phone. Personal call?”
“I don’t think that’s your business seeing as how you just fired me.”
The moment her voice dropped on the call, Eli had strained to listen to what she was murmuring about. He’d heard a name, Tracy—could be a guy or a girl—but the following comment about Nathan being married tipped him off. Nathan was definitely a guy’s name. He’d debated bringing it up, but if she was going to continue to stay here and be a thorn in his side, she needed to respect his time.
“You’re looking for a date on my time, Sable. That is my business.”
Her eyes rounded guiltily. Damn. He’d hoped he’d been wrong about that. He didn’t know much about her, but he never heard her talk of anyone else or dating anyone else. He assumed she was single.
“I…It’s not what you think.” Her eyes flitted to the side. “I’m attending a function requiring a plus-one, that’s all. You know what?” She affected a perfectly poised smile. “It won’t happen again.”