Prologue
KELSEY
“Kelsey, it’s a known fact men and women can’t have a working relationship and be friends at the same time.”
JP Cane leans against the edge of the conference room table, tattooed arms crossed at his annoyingly brawny chest, sleeves of his dress shirt folded up to his elbows, and sporting a smirk that is more infuriating than charming.
“What on earth are you talking about?” I ask as I sit hunched over a mountain of design papers.
Still leaning against the table, he lowers his hands casually and grips the edge as he says, “The other night, when we were having dinner with Huxley and Lottie, you said we could be friends.”
Lottie is my older sister—by twelve months—and my best friend. She’s engaged to the incomparable Huxley Cane, our boss and the brother of the bane of my existence standing before me.
How we all came to know each other is still an extremely fascinating story of luck. The quick and dirty explanation? Lottie was looking for a rich husband to save face with an archenemy, Huxley was looking for a fake fiancée in order to secure a business arrangement. They bumped into each other on the sidewalk. They formed a deal to help each other, signed a contract, and she moved into his mansion. It’s all Pretty Woman-esque, without the hooker aspect. Although . . . Lottie had a hard time staying away from Huxley’s alpha advances.
But while she was playing the role of the doting, madly-in-love fiancée, she was helping me with my business, Sustainably Organized. That’s how we were hired by Cane Enterprises and how I found myself working closely with JP because he was the one assigned to my projects.
Like I said, a whirlwind. I still can’t believe it happened this way.
“Do you have a rebuttal?” JP asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
Seeing that this meeting is going nowhere, I toss my pen to the table and stand tall. “First of all, we weren’t having dinner together with Huxley and Lottie. It wasn’t a double date—”
“Jesus, I know,” he says, exasperated. “You made that very clear three and a half times.” He uses his fingers to tick off the instances. “When we rang the doorbell, because we happened to arrive at the same time. When we were in the kitchen, both reaching for the same champagne. Outside by the pool when we happened to get left at the table alone. And in the living room, you were midway through telling me we weren’t on a double date when Lottie interrupted you to show you a new ‘toy’ she got.” He grins, flashing those annoyingly straight teeth of his. “Still waiting on the details of the new toy.”
“And secondly . . .” I continue. No way am I telling him about that . . . device, Huxley got Lottie. Nope. I’m blushing just thinking about it. “Why on earth can’t we be friends?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
I glance around the room, trying to see if I’ve missed any clues, but I spot absolutely nothing. I look back at him and say, “No. No, it’s not obvious.”
He shakes his head and moves around the conference table to sit on it, right next to me. “Because, Kelsey, there’s a palpable attraction between us.”
I snort so hard I spray snot on the design plans in front of me. Casually, I wipe away the droplets with my hand. An attraction?
I mean . . . sure, JP is a very handsome man. An obvious handsome, if you’re into the steep cut of his jawline that’s peppered by a thick, dark beard. His sexy, tousled hair curls ever so slightly on top but is faded short on the sides, and the hidden tattoos that only appear when he’s comfortable with his present company. Yes, he’s handsome, sexy, I might have said a time or two.
But there’s more to a human being than just finding them physically attractive, at least for me. For me to actually find someone attractive, they need to have a good heart, a desirable personality, and be able to make me laugh.
Not sure JP has a heart, and his personality reads like that of an attention-seeking middle child with an aptitude for not taking anything seriously. He might have a good one-liner here and there, but his overall ability to provoke, annoy, and irritate me wins out.
He must have one of the messiest offices I’ve ever seen, *whispers* which is a complete turn off for a detail-oriented person like I am. Who could look at someone sexually when his desk is stacked in papers and covered by coffee cups and pens with mismatched lids?
So, am I attracted to JP? That would be a definite no.
“You really think there’s an attraction between us?” I ask.
“Babe, I can smell the sexual chemistry, and because it’s so palpable, so thick, so . . . musky—”
“Eww, it’s not musky.”
What am I saying? It’s not anything. There’s no chemistry. Nothing is palpable, and there’s absolutely no thickness . . . none.
Nor is anything musky. Who even describes attraction as musky?
But he ignores me and continues his far-fetched diatribe. “We can’t possibly be work friends because the attraction between us will always and forever put the thought of sex on the table.”
This time I hold back my snort and let silence fill the air for a few breaths before I close the space between us until our faces are only a few inches apart. Despite him being almost a foot taller than I am, I can still look him in the eyes as I ask, “Are you feverish? Is that what’s happening? You’ve come down with something and this is how you act?”
“I’m a specimen of health. You should know that. You check me out enough.”
“I do not.”
I don’t.
Just need to make that clear. I really don’t.
He guffaws, a sound so annoying that my molars grind together. “Why do you think my sleeves are rolled up right now?”
I glance down at his inked forearms—okay, sure, those are sexy, probably the best thing about the man. That’s it, though, the forearms. Can’t blame a girl for delighting in some arm porn, right, ladies?
He leans in close. “Because I know how much they turn you on.”
I press my hand against his face, stopping whatever he’s attempting to do. “Do you understand how massively inappropriate this is? I’m your employee.”
“Technically, you’re Huxley’s employee, I’m just the overseer of things.”
“Is that the professional term?”
He flashes that irritating grin of his. “It is.” He wets his lips but I keep my eyes trained on his eyes. There’s no way I’ll give him the satisfaction of glancing at his mouth. “Not sure why you’re getting all flustered and red in the face.”
“I’m not flustered.” I straighten my arms at my sides.
“I’m trying to be an honest do-gooder right now, attempting to educate you on why we can’t be friends. I should be praised, not disparaged with your sneer.” Before I can respond, he keeps moving forward with his so-called do-gooder’s education. “A man and a woman who find each other attractive and who work together will never be able to be friends. There will always be a giant elephant in the room, and that elephant’s name is Sex. It’s basic human math, Kelsey. We all need to climax, and when we find someone who’s attractive, we want that person to help us climax.”