All I want to do is turn and hightail it, but I can’t let myself do it. I won’t let one slipup, or any man, start governing my decisions. The whole reason to avoid workplace entanglements is to protect against this scenario. Besides, the entanglement was avoided. Mostly.
I square my shoulders and rise my chin. In that moment, for the very first time, I wonder if I might have a guardian angel, because directly across from me, on the local bestsellers shelf, sits a face-out stack of Once in a Lifetime.
I grab a copy and march up to the counter.
Charlie’s gaze doesn’t lift from his laptop until I’ve smacked the book onto the gouged mahogany.
His golden-brown eyes slowly rise. “Well. If it isn’t the woman who ‘isn’t stalking me.’？”
I grind out, “If it isn’t the man who ‘didn’t try to ravish me in the middle of a hurricane.’？”
His sip of coffee goes spewing back into his mug, and he glances toward the tragic café. “I certainly hope my high school principal was ready to hear that.”
I lean sideways to peer through the doorway. At one of the card tables, a stooped, gray-haired woman is watching The Sopranos on a tablet with only one earbud in. “Another one of your exes?”
That downward tick in the corner of his mouth. “I can tell you’re pleased with yourself when your eyes go all predatory like that.”
“And I can tell you are when you do that lip-twitch thing.”
“It’s called a smile, Stephens. They’re common here.”
“And by ‘here,’ you must mean Sunshine Falls, because you definitely aren’t referring to the five-foot radius of your electric fence.”
“Have to keep the locals away somehow.” His eyes drop to the book. “Finally biting the bullet and reading the whole thing?” he says dryly.
“You know . . .” I grab the book and hold it in front of my chest. “I found this on the bestsellers shelf.”
“I know. It’s shelved right next to the Guide to North Carolina’s Bike Trails my old dentist self-published last year,” he says. “Did you want one of those too?”
“This book has sold more than one million copies,” I tell him.
“I’m aware.” He picks up the book. “But now I’m wondering how many of those you bought.”
I scowl. He rewards me with an almost grin, and for the first time, I know exactly what my boss means when she describes my “smile with knives.”
I look away from his face, which really just means my eyes skate down his golden throat and over his pristine white T-shirt to his arms. They’re good arms. Not in a ripped way, just an attractively lean way.
Okay, they’re just arms. Chill, Nora. Straight men have it too easy. A heterosexual woman can see a very normal-looking, nonsexual appendage, and biology’s like, Step aside, last four thousand years of evolution, it’s time to contribute to the continuation of the human race.
He brushes his laptop aside and starts rearranging the pens, pamphlets, and other office supplies on the desk. Maybe I’m not horny for him so much as his clothes and his organizational skills. “I was actually just emailing you.”
I jolt back to the conversation, vibrating like a snapped rubber band. “Oh?”
He nods, his jaw set, his eyes dark and intense. “Have you heard from Sharon yet?”
“Dusty’s editor?”
He nods. “She’s out on leave—had her baby.”
And just like that, all the lean arms, nice fingers, and perfectly organized jars of pens and highlighters in the world aren’t enough to hold my attention.
“But she’s not due for another month,” I say, panicked. “We have another month to get Dusty edits.”
Another small tick. “Would you like me to call her and tell her that? Maybe something can be done—wait, do you have any connections at Mount Sinai Hospital?”
“Are you done?” I ask. “Or is there a second punch line to this hilarious joke?”
Charlie’s hands brace against the counter and he leans forward, voice going raspy, eyes crackling with that strange internal lightning. “I want it.”
I feel like I missed a step. “Wh-what?”
“Dusty’s book. Frigid. I want to work on it.”
Oh, thank God. I wasn’t sure where that was going. And also: no way in hell.
“If we want to keep the release date,” Charlie goes on, “Sharon won’t be back in time to edit. Loggia needs someone to step in, and I’ve asked to do it.”