to make sense of the three hundred and fifty-seven emails that had accumulated while she was in Vegas, when a cardboard coffee cup was slammed down on her desk.
“One venti dark roast with a splash of vanilla soy milk,” Jessie said. “Just the way you like it.”
Becky looked up and grinned at her redheaded friend.
“Aw, thanks, Jessie. You didn’t have to do that.”
Jessie shrugged her coat off, threw it on the visitor’s chair, then collapsed at her desk.
“It’s bribery. Now, spill.”
“Spill? You want me to spill this delicious coffee?”
Jessie threw her rainbow-colored scarf at her. “Don’t be an idiot. You know what I want to know. What happened after you texted me Saturday night? Were you able to prove to yourself that your libido isn’t dead?”
Becky blushed. “It’s alive and kicking,” she said. “And very insistent.”
“Woo-hoo! My girl scored! I knew you could do it!” Jessie said, grinning. “Now, tell me the juicy bits.”
Becky shook her head. “A lady never kisses and tells,” she said, laughing.
“Give me a break,” Jessie said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve known you for ten years, and in all that time you’ve never kept a secret from me. Give it up, sister.”
Becky shook her head again. While it was true that she and Jessie had always told each other everything, this felt different. Special.
“I’m sorry, Jessie. It just doesn’t feel appropriate to talk about it here. Besides, you know what they say. What happens in Vegas...”
Just then her boss’s voice rumbled from the vicinity of her open office door. “Is supposed to stay in Vegas, right?”
Becky whirled, readying a snappy comeback. But what she saw stopped her in her tracks.
Her boss, David, was standing there, smiling. And with him was...Mark.
Mark? How could Mark be standing in her office? Becky stared at him, mouth open. It was not possible. Completely impossible, in fact.
Mark belonged in Vegas, not in New York City.
Heat flared in her belly as she remembered the last time they’d met. She’d been texting Jessie, trying to find the courage to walk into the closing night party by herself.
Just picture them standing in their underwear...then stalk the guy that makes you drool, Jessie had texted.
“Right. Underwear,” she’d said to herself. “Must picture delicious-looking men in underwear.”
And that was when she’d heard Mark’s rumbling voice for the first time.
“Well, if you’re looking for volunteers, I happen to be available.”
“What?” she’d yelped, whirling to face the interloper. Then her heart had stopped. The man smiling at her was the living, breathing definition of delicious, from the tips of his artfully rumpled black hair to the toes of his polished leather shoes.
Brilliant white teeth flashed as he grinned down at her. “If you need help. Picturing what a man looks like in his underwear, I mean. I’m happy to serve as a model.”
Becky’s face flamed. “Oh, I...uh...no one was supposed to hear that. I just...I was having trouble walking into the party by myself. My friend suggested I picture everyone in their underwear. As, you know, a motivator.”
Mr. Gorgeous tilted his head back and laughed, and as he did Becky felt it. The zing. The tingle. If she’d been alone she would have done a happy dance. He’d just proved she wasn’t dead inside!
Now that he was standing in her office, she kind of wished she had been.
Becky shook her head to clear it. She needed to pay attention to the conversation that was happening now if she wanted to make sense of the situation.
“Yeah, you’re supposed to leave all the juicy details at the airport,” Jessie said. “But I was trying to convince Becky to give me some of the gory details anyway.”
“Any luck?” asked Mark, giving Becky a sidelong glance.
“None.” Jessie pouted.
“Well, I was there,” he said. “You didn’t miss much. Although the closing night party was unexpectedly awesome.”
Becky’s head snapped up. Was he teasing her? And, if he was, how dared he? Mark just looked at her with a half smile on his face, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.
“That’s what Becky said. Did you two meet?” Jessie asked.
“No!” Becky practically shouted.
“Yeah, you could say that,” Mark said at the same time.
Becky stared at him. He said nothing, just quirked one damnably expressive eyebrow at her and leaned back against the doorframe, letting her take the lead.
“Well, what I meant was we didn’t really spend much time together,” she said.
Just twelve mind-blowing hours and fifty-three bone-melting minutes. Not that she’d been counting or anything.
Her traitorous mind flashed back to their first kiss. The way he’d claimed every part of her mouth and set her whole body aflame. Within seconds she’d known she wanted more from him than a few kisses.
But it was only supposed to be for one night. If she’d known he’d turn up here she would have never...
“Mark, here, is an amazingly talented art director,” her boss said, reaching up to clap him on the back. “I’ve brought him in on a freelance basis to work on a special project. And I want you to work with him, Becky.”
“Me?” she squeaked. “But I’m busy with... I mean, I’ve got...”
“Whatever you currently have on your plate will be given to someone else,” her boss replied. “I need you on this. Be in my office at eleven. We’ll talk.”
Becky snapped her mouth shut, knowing further protest was useless and foolhardy. When David told you to do something, you did it. At least you did if you wanted to keep your job.
Which she did. Unfortunately.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll see you then.”
“Good,” he answered. “Then I won’t keep you any longer. Come on, Mark.”
After they were gone Becky put her head down on her desk, banging it lightly against the keyboard.
“Why, universe, why? Why would you do this to me?”
“Becky? What’s wrong?” Jessie asked.
Becky shook
