“Oh my God!” Stacy abruptly hisses, grabbing at Morgan’s hand and squeezing.
Morgan chokes on her drink and stares behind me, her jaw dropping so fast that I almost reach over to catch it before it can crash into the table. “Is that—” She sputters, still coughing as she chugs another gulp of her vodka. “Is that really him?”
“Who?” I start to ask, only mildly curious but still not interested enough to look behind me.
With Stacy and Morgan, it could be some random social media star-of-the-moment and they would still act like it was the president passing by.
Then, a light hand brushes over my shoulder. The fingers are warm and soft, the touch gentle enough that goose bumps prickle instantly over the nape of my neck. I turn slowly, half expecting it to be the bartender bringing me another margarita. Instead, it’s a man. A handsome man. No, he’s more than handsome. The word beautiful flicks on and off in my mind like a neon sign.
His blue eyes gleam, irises endless and dark and the whites of his eyes so pearly that I’m almost dazed by the glow. His jaw is square and strongly set, nose firm and shoulders broad. I almost rub my eyes, expecting that I’ve hallucinated some immaculate Adonis of a man, but no matter how much I blink he stays perfectly in view.
“Hello there,” he says simply. Even the way he speaks is flawless—his voice deep and smooth as wine and dark chocolate mixed in one.
“Hi,” I squeak back, startled by the uncertainty in my own voice.
I am not a girl who is swept off her feet easily, but this guy has managed to catch me strangely off guard. I’d noticed him when I’d first walked into the bar, cordoned off in the VIP section, but I hadn't looked at him long enough to register just how breathtakingly good-looking he is.
What in the world is a guy like this talking to me for?
He clears his throat, hands gliding down into his pockets. His suit fits him to perfection, accentuating strong muscles that he probably spends hours every day toning. My mouth is so dry it feels like I’ve been planted headfirst into the Sahara Desert. I take a large gulp of my margarita—probably not a wise choice in the presence of such hotness.
“Let’s face it,” the man continues coolly, those blue eyes piercing right through me.
“Face it?” I whisper back, voice huskily straining through my taut throat.
My heart thuds against my ribs, making tiny black dots swirl in front of my eyes. Is it him or the margarita affecting me so?
“You and I are the most attractive people in this place. Let’s ditch it and head to mine.”
I blink once, then twice, as if seeing the stranger for the very first time. Just like that, his mysterious hold over my composure is gone.
“Seriously?” I mutter, arching an eyebrow. “I actually bothered paying attention to something a guy here says and that’s the best you can come up with?”
His smug smile tightens over his white teeth. “Let me buy you a drink—”
I whirl around, tossing my hair over my shoulder so he’s left facing my back. Stacy and Morgan stare at me, still clinging to one another’s hands, their eyes so wide they might just pop out of their faces. I don’t think either one has taken a breath since the guy approached our table. But I’m not falling for such a terrible line.
“Not a chance,” I shoot back toward him when I feel him still standing behind me. “Scurry along now. Go find someone more desperate than I am to keep you company. I am so not interested.”
For a long moment I think I’m going to have to remind him how to walk. He seems utterly frozen in place after my swift refusal to go home with him. Devilishly handsome as he is, I’m not willing to go home with anyone. I’m not about to go off with some guy I don’t even know, especially when his game was so weak. Sure, I was momentarily dazed by his beautiful face, but that’s over now. I can see clearly again. He’s just another lame guy, albeit well-dressed, hoping for a quickie in the bathroom or something.
I keep stoically facing forward toward my frozen friends until I feel the heat of his body dissipate. Coldness creeps over my shoulders, making goose bumps prickle along my skin again. A second later I glance back, watching him return to his own crew. The other guys at his table, who I now realize had been watching the entire time, are hysterically laughing.
Even though the music is way too loud for me to hear it, I know their mockery must be devastating to him. It’s not like I enjoy humiliating guys when they hit on me, but I don’t have time to waste on corny one-liners.
“VIP booth?” I murmur curiously. “Must think he’s special.”
“Are you serious right now, Clo?” Stacy yelps, lurching forward across the table.
Morgan mirrors her movement. They’re both looking at me like I’ve committed some crime against humanity.
“You really don’t know who that guy is?” Stacy asks.
I shake my head, sucking up air through my empty straw and watching them tepidly. “What? Is he like a senator or something? Oh God, don’t tell me he’s one of those social media ‘influencers’ you’re obsessed with?”
I guess I wouldn’t be too surprised by that. The guy was handsome enough to make billions with smoldering selfies; I’d give him that much.
“No!” Morgan groans, “He’s Donovan Dunn.”
“Dunn?” My blood runs abruptly cold with surprise.
Stacy nods. “As in Dunn Advertising. The place that just hired you! He’s the CEO and the most eligible bachelor in New York. That’s the guy you’ve been dreaming about working for since college.”
My head twists back toward where Donovan is sitting, taking in his chiseled jaw and strong nose. I’d only seen his pictures in magazines, and I’d been more interested in the articles than the photos. Though I knew he was good looking, his face in person is different—so much more stunning. No wonder I didn't recognize him, especially in the hazy lights of Club Thorn.
“Chloe!” Stacy gasps. “You really have nothing to say?”
“Nope.” I shrug, tilting my margarita glass to the side and sucking watery lime juice up the straw. The ice, almost completely melted, clinks against the rim.
When I notice the girls glowering at me, not exactly entertained by my lack of reaction, I just give another shrug. “I mean it’s a good thing I turned him down, isn’t it? I’ve wanted to work for Dunn Advertising forever. If I’d gone home with him then I’d just be the girl who slept with the boss. That’s no way to make it to the top.”
“That’s exactly how to make it to the top,” Morgan teases.
I sigh. “I’m just a temp right now so I’ve got to do everything I can to keep my reputation intact.”
“Girl, Morgan’s right,” Stacy whispers. “You just lost your chance to get some and secure your dream job.”
“Okay, you guys can’t possibly be serious. I am not sleeping with the CEO to get a better job. I studied as hard as I could through high school and college. I graduated almost top of my class both times. I don’t need to sleep my way up the corporate ladder!”
The girls shrug in unison, then take a sip of their respective drinks.
Morgan’s red lipstick stains her straw. “I’m just saying, it’s one way to get what you want. God gave you that body, don’t you think it’s a shame not to use it once in a while?”