“Okay, so, about your friend,” Cole said once Booby Redhead had moved away. “I was thinking…I could tag along?”

Penelope leaned forward with a smile. “It wouldn’t happen that somebody planted that idea in your head, now, would it? Because this seems to be very similar to a plan I hatched with Julie just this afternoon.”

Cole let out a little laugh and held up his hands. “Guilty. But I confess, I was prepared to have to talk you into it.”

“Why? I’m the one who needs the favor.”

“I guess I just thought you’d try to play it like you didn’t need help.”

“Oh, I need help. I so need help.”

Cole’s smile slipped a little at her admission, and his eyes went serious. “So you and this guy…”

“Evan.”

His jaw moved just slightly, and when he spoke again his voice was more gravelly than before. “You and this Evan. What exactly happened between you?”

“I’ve already told you.”

“I know the details of the asshole stealing your job. I want to know the sexy parts.”

“There are no sexy parts,” she grumbled. “That was kind of the problem.”

Cole winced. “I can’t believe I’m actually asking to hear about you and another guy, but…short version. I need the details if I’m going to pull this off this weekend.”

“Short version? I thought I was in love with him. Maybe I actually was, I don’t know. And I was so ready to tell him. I’d just nailed my interview with Sportiva—or so I thought—and I was feeling very confident. I thought it was my time, you know. The moment where my life quit being average. I was going to tell Evan I felt…”

“Did you sprinkle rose petals on the bed?” he asked sympathetically.

She laughed. “Just about. I went over to his place to watch a game, the way we had a hundred times before, and I just…I don’t know, I wanted to be spontaneous, so as soon as he opened the door, I kissed him.”

Cole said nothing and Penelope forced herself to tell the rest of the story. “He didn’t kiss me back. And by the time it all registered, there was this other woman there in the background sort of smirking at me….”

“Ah,” Cole said knowingly.

“Yeah.”

She let out a little groan. “The thing is, I should have seen it coming. Guys like Evan Barstow don’t go for plain girls like Penelope Pope.”

Cole stared at her. “Did you just call yourself plain?”

“Well, you know what I mean. Nonflashy.”

As though proving her point, the stunning waitress came back over to deliver their drinks, and the eyes of every man in the room followed her.

Every man but Cole. He gave her a distracted thank-you without even glancing at the woman’s wares that were so blatantly on display.

Instead he seemed focused only on Penelope.

He leaned forward slightly. “You’re not plain, Pope. And in case I haven’t said it before, you have the most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen.”

She blinked at him. “My eyes?”

He gave a smile that verged on embarrassed. “I know it sounds like a line. But, swear to God, those damn big brown eyes get me every time.”

Penelope had no words to describe how she felt just then. Sometimes happy simply didn’t cut it.

Cole lifted his drink in a toast. “So whaddya say? Let me tag along this weekend? Remind you of all the reasons I’m a far better choice than this Evan asshole?”

She hesitated slightly. “Cole, if we do this, it would only be pretend. I’m still not sure I’m ready for an actual boyfriend.”

Not until I know this can last.

Something flitted across his face, but it was gone before she could identify it.

“I haven’t forgotten the rules,” he said quietly. “No falling in love. Weekends only.”

Penelope smiled. “And yet today is Monday.”

“True, but we’re both fully clothed, so, in theory, this could just be two drinks between co-workers.”

She took a sip of her drink. This didn’t feel like drinks between co-workers. It felt like…more.

“Tiny, do me a favor,” Cole said, watching her with a slight smile.

“Hmm?”

“Quit overthinking everything, would you? For tonight, let’s just be Penelope and Cole. Free of labels. Let’s see how that goes.”

She took a deep breath.

Here was a guy—an insanely good-looking guy—asking her to spend an evening with him. No strings attached. Just fancy cocktails, a sexy bar, and companionship.

“All right,” she said slowly. “No labels.”

“Good girl. Now, there’s something I’ve been waiting to discuss ever since our sales meeting this morning. You did hear that the Adam Bailey issue is likely to be one of our bestselling issues ever?”

Penelope narrowed her eyes and took another sip of her Manhattan. “Mm-hmm. I was there. Saw the numbers.”

He twirled a lock of his hair and batted his eyelashes before pitching his voice into a high, feminine squeak. “I was there, Cole, I saw the numbers, and I just want to take this opportunity to tell you that you were right about Adam Bailey being the right cover choice, and you’re so wise and brilliant—”

Penelope gaped. “Wait. Was that supposed to be me?”

He dropped his hand. “Was it not spot-on?”