Derek rolled his eyes. “I don’t always go for dumb blondes.”
“Yeah. You do.” My tone was drier than the Sahara. “I’m glad you and Kayla are getting on well though. She’s cool.”
And she was. Kayla was an attorney with the office Avalon used. They’d met over a boardroom table and even I’d sensed the sparks, even though I’d been focused on the meeting at hand. So, that said a lot about the sparks.
If I barely noticed a permanent employee who worked with my PA, then noticing something like sexual attraction? Yeah, normally that shit floated over my head. But the way Kayla and Derek had been together? There was no avoiding that crap. They’d looked like they could start fucking right there and then.
Derek sniffed; apparently not forgiving me for my blunder—making me hide a smile.
“Her name’s Jessica.”
My smile died.
“Who is?”
He peered over his shoulder. “She is.”
I gritted my teeth. “You’re kidding me?”
He chuckled—it was his turn to be satisfied. “Thought you’d just love that.”
“Fuck.” I ran a hand through my hair, rumpling the already rumpled locks.
“You can’t tar all Jessicas with the same brush, Max.”
“Can’t I?” I grumbled.
“So what,” he stated magnanimously, “you got screwed over by one. Lightning doesn’t strike twice, my friend.”
“You obviously haven’t read the statistics on that. It totally does strike twice.”
He heaved out a sigh. “You know what I mean.”
“Maybe.” I twisted my lips, then, flickered my gaze from his ugly mug and back to Jessica.
Jessica. Cut me some slack, Lord.
I rubbed my chin as I stared at that gorgeous head of hair—it was like a siren’s call. My eyes were glued to it like a magpie would be focused on a shiny piece of aluminum foil on the ground. I hated the simile but it was terrifyingly apropos.
I’ve never seen hair like it. It made me want to press my face into it, rub it against my lips. Feel it trail over my chest, pool in my groin as she did wicked things to my body.
Feeling said body start to respond from my thoughts alone, I gulped.
Derek clicked his fingers in front of me, making me grimace and scowl at him. “Was that really necessary?” I demanded.
“Very. If she looks through the glass, you look creepy as fuck. What’s wrong with you, man?” he asked, staring at me.
I wrinkled my nose. “Nothing.”
Watching as she got to her feet, I felt my head tilt, of its own volition, as I took in the ripe curves of her body.
Damn, she was fine.
Derek heaved an aggrieved breath. “I think we should talk about work now.”
“Why?” I switched my gaze to him. “Hardly necessary. We’ve finished, haven’t we?”
Because I knew I was right, and when wasn’t I right when it came down to work? I got to my feet. Buttoning the lapels of my suit coats together, I slid my hands over my front to get rid of any lint or dust. Scrabbling through my desk drawers, I found a brush and quickly ran it through my hair. Rubbing my cheeks to get some color into them—I didn’t know why, but talking about work always washed out my skin, like it sapped at my energy levels in a fundamental way or something.