if she’d ever had any luck with men.
AFTER A NIGHT spent in an apartment empty of her ex-boyfriend’s presence and her ex-roommate’s couch, Olivia entered the office Tuesday with renewed resolve. Her thoughts had strayed to Justin Hawthorne several times during the night, but echoes of heartache and humiliation had quelled her unwise attraction. Lifting her chin, Olivia strode toward her office, saying good morning to Jeanie as she passed. I’m here to work, not think about men.
Three hours later, she leaned back in her chair, congratulating herself on a productive morning. She’d even managed a quick conversation with Steve on the interoffice line without wanting to strangle the man with his own necktie.
“I deserve a break,” she muttered, stretching her muscles as she stood. A cup of tea sounded good, and maybe she’d drop by Meg’s office on the way back from the break room, see if her friend had any fun model gossip this morning.
The break room was a beige room with scuffed cabinets and absolutely zero decorative qualities. There was, however, always a ready supply of hot and cold beverages, the day’s copy of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution to read, and usually people with whom to shoot the breeze. All in all, a good source of procrastination.
Today, the coffee room’s inhabitants were female, with one notable exception.
Justin Hawthorne sat in a blue plastic chair amid five women, including Kate from HR; Steve’s personal secretary, Diane; a couple of ladies from accounting; and even sixty-seven-year-old Ms. Phipps, who kept casting wish-I-were-forty-years-younger glances in Justin’s direction.
The admiring glances Olivia could empathize with, but really, had Diane forgotten this was a place of business? When the curvy redhead asked Justin if she could have the issue of the AJC lying on the table in front of him, she managed to phrase the request in a breathless sultry tone that insinuated she wanted something much more. Instead of waiting for him to hand her the paper, she slowly leaned forward, brushing against him in a way Kate could have used as the what-not-to-do example in her sexual-harassment seminar.
Waggling his eyebrows, Justin said something in a low voice that caused Diane to laugh, and Olivia ground her teeth. Her annoyance was only heightened when she couldn’t help an admiring glance of her own. No man should look that good! His all-black attire today was a great foil for his light hair and bright eyes.
Basic black is back, and what could be sexier?
The man lounged in his chair like a sexy monarch surveying his coffee-scented kingdom. Or a sheikh with his harem. Olivia reached blankly for one of the mugs kept over the sink, but instead of seeing the cabinet in front of her, she envisioned herself in a flimsy costume of veils, summoned by Justin to—
“Morning.” His warm deep voice in her ear caused her to jump, and she clenched the handle of the blue mug to keep from dropping it.
“Justin! I didn’t notice you.” More accurately, she’d been too lost in her own torrid fantasies to see him stand up.
“Apparently.” He raised a dark blond brow. “Not very flattering, you realize.”
Olivia said nothing as she filled her mug with water. Was his teasing comment an invitation for her to appease his ego? Why would he need it when, as far as she could tell, the other women in the room had been generously feeding his self-esteem?
Sean’s parting words echoed in her mind. It wouldn’t be fair to the women of the world to limit myself to just one. Was Justin cut from the same cloth? Wanting that sixth woman’s attention when he already had the adoration of five, including a gorgeous redheaded secretary who was now glaring daggers at Olivia? Was that all the moment of sexual connection in her office yesterday had been about? For a few seconds, with his eyes on hers, he’d made her feel no one existed beyond the two of them, but maybe he would have behaved the same with any other woman.
Justin reached past Olivia to the coffeemaker, glancing over his shoulder at the female-inhabited table. “Did you want sugar in this, Ms. Phipps?”
“Two packets, please.”
As he stirred the sugar into the cup he’d just filled, Olivia sighed. It was much easier to maintain her cynical image of the man when he was enjoying Diane’s cleavage instead of doing a favor for the elderly Ms. Phipps.
Diane, however, wasn’t impressed with his small act of kindness. She left the room in an I’m-not-used-to-sharing-a-man’s-attention huff. The two women Olivia recognized from accounting followed behind, chatting as they walked, but they both shot wistful glances in Justin’s direction.
Seemingly oblivious, he handed Ms. Phipps her cup of coffee.
The older woman smiled. “Thank you, but I should be getting back to work now, too.”
“My loss,” Justin said with a rakish smile.
Olivia grabbed a single-serving bag of decaffeinated tea, wondering if he was a great guy who was kind to his elders, or if he was just so in the habit of flirting that he never turned it off.
After the small exodus of women, the only one remaining was Kate, who sidled closer to Justin and delicately cleared her throat. “So, um, about that dinner….”
“I’ll call you after the South Carolina trip,” Justin said. “You pick out the restaurant.”
Not a week on the job and he already had a date. Now why isn’t that surprising? The only surprise was that his plans were with fresh-faced Kate and not Diane, who stood a better chance at holding her own with a man in Justin’s league. Trying to look like something other than a disapproving eavesdropper, Olivia set her mug in the microwave.
Kate bounced out of the room with the enthusiasm of a teenager who’d just been asked to the prom, and Olivia almost winced on the poor girl’s behalf. When Olivia had been younger, she’d worn her heart on her sleeve in much the same way…but after it had been broken a few times, she’d moved it for safekeeping.
Instead of also leaving now that his admirers had gone, Justin leaned against the counter. She watched the microwave, willing it to beep. Thursday, when she’d be trapped in the car with him, was plenty soon enough to be alone with him. She pondered the possibility of his becoming less sexy between now and then. Was there a polite, logical way to insist he didn’t wear black?
Probably not.
TRYING NOT TO BE too obvious, Justin studied his beautiful co-worker. Her gray eyes were frosty today, with no hint of the molten silver desire he’d seen—and felt—yesterday in her office. He wanted to cajole her into a more receptive mood, to prove the woman he’d seen glimpses of was in there somewhere.
“How’s your day going, Liv?” He assumed she went by the office nickname, but, personally, he didn’t think it suited her.
The more lyrical Olivia fit perfectly—as did the navy turtleneck and long tailored skirt she wore. There was a sexy contrast between how little skin was revealed and how boldly the lush curves of her body were delineated. Stopping short of a noticeable leer, he discreetly traced those curves with his gaze, wishing it were with his hands instead.
“Fine.” She dipped her tea bag in her mug. “Busy.”
Not a woman of many words.
Licking her lips, she took
