Page 99 of Handsome Devil
Chaz looked over from our twin exercise bikes in front of the living room window, where dull afternoon light was filtering in. He was perched atop his bike, slowly peddling and eating Two-Bite Brownies out of the bag while he watchedThe Biggest Loser.
I stood in our front hallway like it was my runway, striking a pose in my black sweater dress, rain-resistant suede booties and smoky eyes.
My roommate looked me up and down. “Hot.”
Disappointed, I dropped the pose. “I’m going for stone cold killer, Chaz. Like wouldn’t-want-to-run-into-me-in-a-dark-alley fierce.”
“Mmm. Nope. You’re notthatfierce, sweetie.”
I huffed. “Talk me up, here. I’m taking a meeting with Lucifer. Tell me I’ve got a chance at not only retaining my dignity, but kicking him in the balls so he feels it for the rest of his life if he fires me.”
Chaz hopped off the bike and wandered over. He examined my boots. “Do you have any with a pointier toe?”
“No. Not ones that can handle that rain and still kick him in the nuts.”
Beyond our windows, Vancouver was experiencing a freakishly cold mid-October downpour, as if the weather had finally caved to the diabolical pull and shifted to the temperature of the devil’s new headquarters—which, as it turned out, was a penthouse apartment in a tower mere blocks away.
That’s right. Dane and I were neighbors.
I found that out when he drove me home last night and casually mentioned it. He told me that his family owned the penthouse and had for years.
Disturbing.
If I ran into him on a morning coffee run in my beloved neighborhood, I’d have to seriously consider moving.
“Too bad,” Chaz said, offering me the bag of Two-Bite Brownies. I plucked one out and ate it in one bite. “Want me to come?” He shook his head and made a face likePlease don’t make me, I don’t wanna volunteer as tribute.
Yes. Yes, I did want him to come. I wanted witnesses and backup for this meeting. However, I would not show Dane Davenport that I was the least bit intimidated by the fact that he’d summoned me to a meeting at his penthouse on a Sunday afternoon.
“No,” I told Chaz. “I need to do this alone. Should I change? What if I sweat through my dress?”
Chaz fingered my sleeve. “It feels thick enough. You should be okay.” He put on a very haughty look for a grown man wearing an NSYNC T-shirt and pajama pants in the middle of the day. “Don’t even be nervous. He can’t fire you. Why would he fire you? He needs people to run the agency and I’m not gonna do it.”
I sighed. “Thanks.”
“Hey. We talked about this. Don’t let him win. He may be the boss of you. But he’s not thebossof you.”
“Yeah. I know. I should get going. The hearse is probably waiting outside to collect me.”
“’Kay.” Chaz looked me over as I slipped into my coat. “Can’t you at least consider getting nudesies with him, though?”
I made a revolted noise. “Why? So you can live vicariously?”
“Yes.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Come on,” he said. “If I had any currency with the man, I would use every penny of it.”
“Currency?” I said dubiously.
“Curr-en-cy.” He grabbed his butt cheeks then his non-existent boobs and raised one of his already dramatic eyebrows.
“Whatever.” I grabbed my purse. “I’m all out of spare change. He wants currency, he can go beg for it somewhere else.”
Chaz made a disapproving sound as I opened the door. “So unfair. I’d lick that man’s toes for free.”
“Now there’s a pretty picture. See you later.” I headed out the door.
