moves out of the way, I climb out of my baby and accept the ticket from her. Then, I stride into the lobby. It’s already two minutes after noon, and when I scan the area, I don’t see Tori anywhere. Strolling over to the panel by the elevators, I note that Abbott and Taft is on the forty-fifth floor.
The ride up gives me time to check my appearance over in the brass reflection on the back wall. My hair is a big fucking mess—but I styled it that way, so it’s okay. Behind me, a woman in a suit watches me from the corner of her eye as I check myself out. I wink at her and nearly chuckle aloud when she gasps and diverts her attention elsewhere. By the time I’ve made it to Tori’s floor, the woman has stepped off onto another floor, leaving me to enter the lion’s den alone.
As soon as I step into the pretentious offices of Abbott and Taft, I know I was accurate in calling it the lion’s den. A stiff, powerful vibe courses through the air, almost rendering me immobile. Pushing past the awkward, out-of-place feeling I have at being in such a sterile workplace, I stride over to the receptionist and beam at her.
She drops her phone into the cradle and her cheeks redden. “Can I help you, sir?”
“I’m here to see Tori, er, Victoria Larkin. We have a date,” I tell her point blank.
The alpha lioness is whom I’m stalking.
Her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, I see. Um, let me, um,” she stutters while fumbling over her phone before punching in a few numbers, “…ring for her assistant, Stacey.”
A few minutes later, a woman in her late thirties in a cheap suit which doesn’t compare to the casual threads Tori donned on Saturday regards me with a confused look.
“Can I help you? I’m Stacey Cantrell, Ms. Larkin’s assistant.”
I saunter over to her and hold out my hand. “Chase Monroe. I’m taking Tori to lunch.”
Her eyes dart back and forth as she shakes my hand, horror painting her features. “Oh, my. I see,” she mutters. “I didn’t see you on her schedule. If I missed it, she won’t be pleased with me. Please, follow me over to my desk and I’ll double check.”
I follow the woman who now walks on wobbly legs and her hands tremor beside her. Jesus, is Tori the fucking she-devil around here?
“Now, if you’ll hold just a moment, let me check the calendar,” she rushes out in exasperation.
I nod and lean over her desk picking up an “urgent notice.”
Ms. Larkin, please call your mother about the rehearsal dinner next Saturday night. She needs to know if you’ll be attending so she can RSVP.
Yanking a pen from the cup, I scribble out a message on the paper, earning me a horrified stare from Stacey.
Yes. Plus one.
I smirk at her and start making my way to the only office with the grayed out glass. Victoria J. Larkin is emblazoned on the glass beside the door.
“What are you doing?” she hisses and follows after me. “She’s working on a very important case and has asked that nobody disturb her. Not even me!”
Shrugging my shoulders, I toss her an undeterred smile. “I’m not nobody. I’m Chase, and we have a date.”
“Please, sir, you—” she tries, but I’m already pushing through the door.
My lips curve up into a grin to see Tori’s brows furrowed in concentration with a pen between her teeth. Tendrils of blonde have escaped their nest on her head and I decide that I’m making it my mission to see her hair down.
God, she’s beautiful.
Her eyes lift to mine and annoyance instantly flits over her expression.
“You’re late,” I inform her as I stride into her office and plop down in the chair in front of her. Her brow raises when I pick up her signed Cubs baseball from its stand and toss it back and forth between my hands. “Don’t you know time is money?”
She rolls her eyes at having her words thrown back at her and shoots Stacey behind me a scathing look. “I thought I was clear when I said absolutely no visitors.”
Stacey begins stuttering
The ride up gives me time to check my appearance over in the brass reflection on the back wall. My hair is a big fucking mess—but I styled it that way, so it’s okay. Behind me, a woman in a suit watches me from the corner of her eye as I check myself out. I wink at her and nearly chuckle aloud when she gasps and diverts her attention elsewhere. By the time I’ve made it to Tori’s floor, the woman has stepped off onto another floor, leaving me to enter the lion’s den alone.
As soon as I step into the pretentious offices of Abbott and Taft, I know I was accurate in calling it the lion’s den. A stiff, powerful vibe courses through the air, almost rendering me immobile. Pushing past the awkward, out-of-place feeling I have at being in such a sterile workplace, I stride over to the receptionist and beam at her.
She drops her phone into the cradle and her cheeks redden. “Can I help you, sir?”
“I’m here to see Tori, er, Victoria Larkin. We have a date,” I tell her point blank.
The alpha lioness is whom I’m stalking.
Her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, I see. Um, let me, um,” she stutters while fumbling over her phone before punching in a few numbers, “…ring for her assistant, Stacey.”
A few minutes later, a woman in her late thirties in a cheap suit which doesn’t compare to the casual threads Tori donned on Saturday regards me with a confused look.
“Can I help you? I’m Stacey Cantrell, Ms. Larkin’s assistant.”
I saunter over to her and hold out my hand. “Chase Monroe. I’m taking Tori to lunch.”
Her eyes dart back and forth as she shakes my hand, horror painting her features. “Oh, my. I see,” she mutters. “I didn’t see you on her schedule. If I missed it, she won’t be pleased with me. Please, follow me over to my desk and I’ll double check.”
I follow the woman who now walks on wobbly legs and her hands tremor beside her. Jesus, is Tori the fucking she-devil around here?
“Now, if you’ll hold just a moment, let me check the calendar,” she rushes out in exasperation.
I nod and lean over her desk picking up an “urgent notice.”
Ms. Larkin, please call your mother about the rehearsal dinner next Saturday night. She needs to know if you’ll be attending so she can RSVP.
Yanking a pen from the cup, I scribble out a message on the paper, earning me a horrified stare from Stacey.
Yes. Plus one.
I smirk at her and start making my way to the only office with the grayed out glass. Victoria J. Larkin is emblazoned on the glass beside the door.
“What are you doing?” she hisses and follows after me. “She’s working on a very important case and has asked that nobody disturb her. Not even me!”
Shrugging my shoulders, I toss her an undeterred smile. “I’m not nobody. I’m Chase, and we have a date.”
“Please, sir, you—” she tries, but I’m already pushing through the door.
My lips curve up into a grin to see Tori’s brows furrowed in concentration with a pen between her teeth. Tendrils of blonde have escaped their nest on her head and I decide that I’m making it my mission to see her hair down.
God, she’s beautiful.
Her eyes lift to mine and annoyance instantly flits over her expression.
“You’re late,” I inform her as I stride into her office and plop down in the chair in front of her. Her brow raises when I pick up her signed Cubs baseball from its stand and toss it back and forth between my hands. “Don’t you know time is money?”
She rolls her eyes at having her words thrown back at her and shoots Stacey behind me a scathing look. “I thought I was clear when I said absolutely no visitors.”
Stacey begins stuttering
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