Evie’s cheeks turned the color of cooked beets, but I managed to keep it together.

“It’s a pretty color, buddy,” I said with a grin. “It would look great with her hair. Don’t get your panties in a wad.”

Cullen grunted and then shrugged. “Whatever. Still gross. The three of us need to have a quick discussion about the new line with manufacturing in an hour, so clear your schedules, all right?”

Evie gave her brother a thumbs-up, and I nodded. “Sure thing.”

He turned on his heel and left, already on to the next thing, seeming to forget all about the fact that I’d been imagining his sister in a peach teddy. That didn’t help either Evie or me, though, because we were left gazing at each other guiltily.

“I’m going to go see if I can talk Arabella down,” I said, breaking the tension. “And if not, don’t stress. I know that once she sees this, all will be forgotten anyway.”

Evie gave me a grateful smile and waved. I’d made it all the way to the door before I couldn’t stop myself from turning back.

“You would look super hot in that lingerie, though. Just saying.”

A pair of satin panties whizzed past my face, hitting the door frame. When I looked back at Evie, she was casting a scowl in my direction.

• • •

Once at home, I felt the stirrings of a headache forming. Huffing out a deep breath, I sat down on the side of my bed. I just needed a fucking minute here. I raked a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of all this new pressure on my shoulders.

Reaching into the drawer of my nightstand, I pulled a worn slip of paper from inside a familiar envelope. The paper’s edges were soft, and the faded ink reflected its age. As much as it evoked memories of my less-than-desirable beginnings, it was almost comforting in a way too.

I was left at four years old with just the clothes on my back—a size too small and fraying at the edges—along with this note in the parking lot of an emergency room downtown. My fingers traced the barely legible scrawl absently. I remembered nothing of my life before, and my adoptive mom said that was a good thing, but I wasn’t so sure. Even some sad memories would have helped me piece together the fragments of my early childhood.

The blank space was left to fester, growing wider, deeper with each passing year. It was an emptiness inside me that nothing in my life had been able to fill—and believe me, I’d tried. Booze. Women. Fast cars. I’d tried it all.

Now I’d resigned myself to live with that hole in my chest. I kept my head down, throwing myself into my work to compensate for the missing puzzle piece inside me. But what else could I do?

I stuffed the paper back inside its resting place, knowing I was about to get deeper into my own issues before I found my way back out again.

Chapter Sixteen

I was a walking cliché. The once-ugly duckling who had shed her baby fat and awkward phase but was still too chickenshit to believe she was pretty.

I let out a heavy sigh, checking my appearance one more time. I might not like what I saw in my reflection, but that was silly, right? Smith saw me that way. He saw me as a sexual woman who’d wanted to explore, someone smart and capable and funny. He even said I’d look beautiful in that lacy peach lingerie. We worked in the business of seductive undergarments, but I’d never let myself believe I would be wearing them for a man, let alone Smith, of all people.

Fuck it.

Turning on my heel, I grabbed my purse and strutted from my apartment.

I wouldn’t know unless I tried . . .

Chapter Seventeen

Meet me at Restaurant Saint Germaine at seven on Friday.

I glanced at my text to Evie once more just to confirm the time and then checked my watch. Five after. She was always punctual, if not early, and I was starting to think I was about to get the blow-off.

The week at work had gone by at a snail’s pace. Once I’d smoothed over the whole cock-up with Arabella, largely helped by the fact that Evie had indeed hit the ad campaign out of the park, there had only been mundane number-crunching to focus on. That left way too much brain space for me to think about Evie. The kiss in the copy room, and most of all, our date tonight.

I settled into my seat at a corner booth of the famed restaurant and glanced at the door again.

If there was even going to be a date.

She’d said yes when I texted her the other day, but maybe the weirdness of witnessing Cullen’s response to our exchange had finally gotten to her and she’d chickened out. I wouldn’t blame her one bit. It was fucking weird for me too. But things had escalated to the point that I was past caring. We would deal with Cullen when the time came.

For now, I knew that I was on the cusp of something with Evie. Something special. Something I’d never felt before. Something that was equal parts intriguing and maddening. Something that had the potential to quiet the demons inside me that whispered in the dark of night that I was unlovable and bound to be alone for life.

It might even be—

“Hey, you!”

I looked up to see Evie standing next to the table wearing a cream-colored blouse and a black leather skirt that fit like a second skin. Her hair was up in an elaborate twist that made me want to yank out the pins just to see those curls go tumbling around her shoulders.

My heart stuttered in my chest, and I stood. “You look amazing,” I murmured softly, leaning in to kiss her cheek. I breathed in her scent while I was at it, and my cock stood at immediate attention.

“Thank you,” she replied, her smile a little shy. “The skirt is a little much for me . . . kind of racy, but I figured what the hell?”