Arrogant Boss

“I think you are.”

“Damn.” He ran a hand through his admittedly very thick hair. “You really didn’t fall on purpose, did you?”

“Absolutely not. It was humiliating.”

“How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“I fell because my heel snapped, not because I’m drunk.”

Julian glanced down at the stain on his shirt that appeared to prove otherwise, but I’m quick to correct him. “That was virgin.”

“Oh?”

“Um, yes. The drink.”

“Thanks for clarifying.”

My cheeks flushed again. This was going all wrong, he was infuriating, and I needed to get home. I pushed my long hair back and saw his eyes follow the movement.

“I don’t usually fall on strangers.”

His grin was back. “I’m honored that I was the chosen one tonight, then.”

The valet boy still hadn’t returned with my car and I tugged my jacket tighter. Julian didn’t seem remotely bothered by our odd interaction or the sudden silence. He looked just as serenely calm as in the photos of him, jawline screaming masculinity and competence and power.

Arrogant man.

I was not like him-the uncomfortable silence was unbearable. “Do you come here often?”

“As a matter of fact, no, I don’t. Only when apps are launching and there’s rowdiness to be had.”

I bit my lip to keep from smiling, despite myself. “Of course. A favorite past-time, is it?”

He shrugged, powerful shoulders stretching out a perfectly fitted suit jacket. The man had held me for near on three minutes without a change in his breathing. “It’s practically a national sport in my circles.”

“Are you heading home now too?”Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

He nodded. “Yes. But I’m-”

A voice called out from across the parking lot. “Julian, my man! Are you coming?”

A blonde man stood across the parking lot, his arm around a brunette in strappy heels. They were standing next to a Hummer with music blaring.

“Duty calls?”

He ran a hand through his thick hair, a faintly embarrassed look on his face. “I don’t go to a lot of launches. This isn’t my scene.”

“I’m sure it’s not. Just like you don’t have a lot of experience with women fake tripping just to catch your attention.” I rolled my eyes and his lips quirked up again.

“Because of your shoes,” he said softly and caught a flyaway strand of hair. Gently, he tucked it back in place behind my ear, and I stopped breathing.

“Can I call you?”

Definitely not breathing.

I found myself give a shallow nod. “If you don’t insult me again.”

The eyebrow quirked again. “I’ll be on my very best behavior. Promise.”

The sound of an approaching engine cut the intimacy as my car pulled up next to us. It looked small and ordinary suddenly, standing next to the magnificence that was Julian Hunt.

The valet got out and left the car in idle. “All yours, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” I slipped out of my shoes and handed him a tip. “I guess this is it. I’m sorry about your shirt again.”

Julian leaned against my car and held the door open for me. “I’ll forgive you if you tell me your name.”

“Emily.”

“Emily?”

“Emily Giordano.”

The mischievous look was back in his eyes. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.” Julian bent so that we were eye to eye. “Well, I’ll be in touch, Ace.”

A shiver ran down my spine. “Ace?”

“You could have barreled into anyone tonight, but you hit me.” He winked. “You have excellent aim.”

I opened my mouth to protest the sheer arrogance of his statement, but he shut my door with a grin and took a few steps back. With shaky motions, I put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

What the hell had just happened?

I had met Julian Hunt. He had strong arms and a crooked smile and he smelled amazing. I had probably never been so instantly attracted to a man before in my life.

And then he asked if he could call me.

Things like this-meeting men like this-didn’t happen to me. It never did and it never had.

He likely had no intention of calling me, and I wasn’t even sure I would pick up if he did. He was arrogant and obnoxious… and funny. Besides, he hadn’t even asked for my number!

I shook my head at my own musings. I would never see Julian Hunt again, and that was probably for the best. I couldn’t start comparing regular men to his standard or I’d be single for life.

I ignored the small part of my brain that wanted to think of maybe’s and what-if’s.