movement and life, drawing her in and mesmerizing her when she allowed herself a few moments away from work, a rare occurrence. The view wasn’t much, but she considered herself lucky to have one since many of the other associates’ offices were windowless. The favoritism was most likely because of her father’s friendship with one of the founding partners, inciting her co-workers to grouse and comment on the obvious partiality behind her back. Usually it bothered her, but about this, she didn’t care.
At the buzz of her intercom, she turned from the window.
“Who is tall and utterly yummy?” her assistant’s voice whispered.
“I’m sorry, what was that, Megan?” Shannon asked, certain she’d misheard her.
“Since when do you know Chris Evans?” Megan murmured in a low voice.
Shannon froze. Chris Evans? That could only mean one thing since there was no way the real Chris Evans stood outside her door. It had to be the next best possibility, and that was Matt. What on earth was he doing here?
She’d done her best not to think about what happened between them at the wedding, since all she had to do was conjure up his crystal-blue eyes and his pulse-raising smile and she melted. Asking him to stop had been the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, and then he’d had to make it that much harder when he hadn’t even tried to make her feel guilty, increasing her respect for him. For such a good-looking guy and a star in his chosen profession, he certainly didn’t walk around with a sense of entitlement. But she didn’t do casual, not even with a guy as gorgeous as him.
“Uh, one second,” she stammered as she rushed back to her desk.
She yanked open her bottom drawer and pulled out her purse. Digging into the deep pockets, she unearthed her mirror and grimaced at her tired reflection. She tugged a brush through her lifeless hair, cringing with a curse when static lifted the strands around her face and on top of her head. She tried to tame it before wiping at the black smudges of mascara under her eyes. Pinching her cheeks to bring some color back to them, she quickly dabbed on lip gloss and called it good enough on such short notice.
Shannon brushed a hand down her tweed skirt and took a breath, trying to still the butterflies suddenly fluttering around in her stomach. She lifted her chin, striving for an air of confidence she hoped she pulled off, and opened the door.
Matt, who was chatting animatedly with Megan, glanced up. He smiled when he spotted her, his blue eyes brightening and his perfect white teeth on display. With his loose fitting jeans, dark chocolate boots and a hunter-green winter jacket, he could have stepped straight out of a winter spread of a fashion magazine. Faint ruddiness remained on his cheeks from the cold air outside.
“Matt! This is a surprise. What are you doing here?” she finally said as her brain reengaged, forcing herself to ignore how gorgeous he was.
He stepped forward. “I’m sorry. Did I come at a bad time? I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Shannon shook her head as if trying to clear out the massive amounts of confusion thrashing around, while Megan watched their exchange with interest. “No, no interruptions. I’m sorry. You caught me off guard. Please, come in.”
She held out her hand toward her office and followed him in. She closed the door behind them, but not before quickly turning and mouthing “Oh my God!” to Megan, who gave her two thumbs up.
Shannon smiled at him as she sat behind her large mahogany desk. “Please, have a seat,” she offered before her mind winced, hating the formality in her tone. She tried not to stare as Matt unzipped his jacket, revealing a navy V-neck sweater coupled with a gray T-shirt, which outlined his broad shoulders and strong chest, before he sat down. He glanced around, taking in everything.
“This is a nice office. Nice view,” he said as he craned his neck to see out the small
At the buzz of her intercom, she turned from the window.
“Who is tall and utterly yummy?” her assistant’s voice whispered.
“I’m sorry, what was that, Megan?” Shannon asked, certain she’d misheard her.
“Since when do you know Chris Evans?” Megan murmured in a low voice.
Shannon froze. Chris Evans? That could only mean one thing since there was no way the real Chris Evans stood outside her door. It had to be the next best possibility, and that was Matt. What on earth was he doing here?
She’d done her best not to think about what happened between them at the wedding, since all she had to do was conjure up his crystal-blue eyes and his pulse-raising smile and she melted. Asking him to stop had been the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, and then he’d had to make it that much harder when he hadn’t even tried to make her feel guilty, increasing her respect for him. For such a good-looking guy and a star in his chosen profession, he certainly didn’t walk around with a sense of entitlement. But she didn’t do casual, not even with a guy as gorgeous as him.
“Uh, one second,” she stammered as she rushed back to her desk.
She yanked open her bottom drawer and pulled out her purse. Digging into the deep pockets, she unearthed her mirror and grimaced at her tired reflection. She tugged a brush through her lifeless hair, cringing with a curse when static lifted the strands around her face and on top of her head. She tried to tame it before wiping at the black smudges of mascara under her eyes. Pinching her cheeks to bring some color back to them, she quickly dabbed on lip gloss and called it good enough on such short notice.
Shannon brushed a hand down her tweed skirt and took a breath, trying to still the butterflies suddenly fluttering around in her stomach. She lifted her chin, striving for an air of confidence she hoped she pulled off, and opened the door.
Matt, who was chatting animatedly with Megan, glanced up. He smiled when he spotted her, his blue eyes brightening and his perfect white teeth on display. With his loose fitting jeans, dark chocolate boots and a hunter-green winter jacket, he could have stepped straight out of a winter spread of a fashion magazine. Faint ruddiness remained on his cheeks from the cold air outside.
“Matt! This is a surprise. What are you doing here?” she finally said as her brain reengaged, forcing herself to ignore how gorgeous he was.
He stepped forward. “I’m sorry. Did I come at a bad time? I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Shannon shook her head as if trying to clear out the massive amounts of confusion thrashing around, while Megan watched their exchange with interest. “No, no interruptions. I’m sorry. You caught me off guard. Please, come in.”
She held out her hand toward her office and followed him in. She closed the door behind them, but not before quickly turning and mouthing “Oh my God!” to Megan, who gave her two thumbs up.
Shannon smiled at him as she sat behind her large mahogany desk. “Please, have a seat,” she offered before her mind winced, hating the formality in her tone. She tried not to stare as Matt unzipped his jacket, revealing a navy V-neck sweater coupled with a gray T-shirt, which outlined his broad shoulders and strong chest, before he sat down. He glanced around, taking in everything.
“This is a nice office. Nice view,” he said as he craned his neck to see out the small
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