Chandler: A Standalone Contemporary Romance Read Online Free PDF Page B

already.”
    “Stop. You’re so good at flattery.” She does that thing women sometimes do where she pretends like she’s embarrassed by the compliment, but she’s really soaking it in.
    “You mean I’m so good at truth.” And now that I’ve buttered her up, onto the real item up for business. “Oh, while I’m here. I was wondering if you could get me some more information about that Accelecom benefit I attended last week.”
    She’s already typing into her computer. “Sure. What sort of information are you looking for in particular? The donation list?”
    “The guest list.”
    Trish looks up from her screen and narrows her eyes at me. “Let me guess—she’s blonde, blue-eyed, and you just have to have her number.”
    Actually, she’s brunette, grey-eyed, and I’m not sure what it is I have to have from her, but like hell am I admitting to any of that. While I don’t think Trish is chatty with Hudson, I’m not taking any chances that she’ll slip and mention I’ve been asking about a girl.
    So I focus on Genevieve’s father instead.
    “Har har.” I feign amusement. “Not a woman. A man. About fifty, I’d guess. Distinguished. British. Seemed to be a major big-wig, but I never caught his name.” Never even spoke to him. She doesn’t need to know.
    I stand to move behind Trish as I talk so I can look at the computer over her shoulder. “Maybe you could dig up some pictures from the gala that might match that description, and—”
    My words are cut off by what I see, and it’s not on the secretary’s computer screen but standing right in front of me.
    “Genevieve.”
    “Chandler?”
    For a minute I’m not sure if she’s really there or if I’m imagining her. That’s how in my head this fucking girl is. I can’t even tell the difference between reality and fantasy.
    But Trish has also glanced up, so I’m pretty sure my ghost is real. I look her over, taking her in. She’s dressed for business in slacks and a matching jacket that’s open to reveal a white shirt with black trim. Her makeup is subtle, yet her eyes are as sharp as ever. Her dark hair falls down past her shoulders, and it looks longer now that it’s missing the waves from the other night. In every way, she’s less glam, less “done up”.
    And damn if she isn’t two thousand times more beautiful.
    I inhale slowly, remembering I’m in Hudson’s office and just thinking my brother’s name seems to calm the devil in my dick. When I exhale, I’m ready.
    “It’s good to see you.” I know I should play harder to get—yes, that’s a thing guys do too—yet I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
    She returns my smile—it’s more refined and understated than mine, but she’s British, and it counts. “Looking for you. This is your office? The security guard said it was on the other side of the building.”
    Holy shit, she was looking for me!
    “Did he?” I mean, he’s right. And my office is pretty sweet. It’s on the opposite corner with floor-to-ceiling windows, lots of space, and modern furniture.
    But I’m not offering to take her there. Partly because, as a rule, I try not to be alone with beautiful women in my office unless we’re very clearly sticking to business. But also because there’s no way in hell I’ll make it across the floor with the semi in my pants.
    Besides, as nice as my office is, Hudson’s is nicer.
    “Why don’t you come inside?” I gesture for Genevieve to follow me into his office, making eye contact with his secretary. “Trish, hold my calls, will you?”
    “ You’re so bad ,” she mouths.
    I really am, aren’t I? I should probably feel guilty about it.
    Spoiler: I don’t.
    “Have a seat,” I say to Genevieve over my shoulder as I shut the double doors behind us. I have the same predator feeling I had when she was buckling herself into the passenger seat of my car.
    She’s trapped. With me. Alone.
    And since I’m a betting