It didn’t help when Christina came in during the first set of spots with her eyes flashing and a flush on her cheeks. “Holy crap! Angel!”
Angel huffed in understanding. “Ah,” she said calmly as she wrote notes on one of the emails she planned to address when she went back on air. She smiled and shook her head slightly as she scribbled roughly on the paper. “Google did its work, I guess?”
The younger girl rushed into the room and sat down at the desk across from Angel. “You know I never cuss but… Are you fucking kidding me? This man is like… Gah! He’s so hot! Is his hair really like this? And he’s a big corporate dude? Oh, my God! Delish!”
Angel cringed at the slang term, so indicative of someone so young, but hardly a good description of Alex Avery. Smooth operator. Now that was more like it.
She looked up and met Christina’s stare. “You need to keep your eyes open, girl. He’s too beautiful and he knows it. You heard him. He admitted that he avoids emotional commitments. He’s dangerous.”
“Angel!” Chris exclaimed in exasperation, gazing down at a picture she’d printed out of the man in question. Angel couldn’t help but glance at it. It was a cover shot from Forbes for Christ’s sake. He was in an impressive office, sitting on the edge of his desk, with one arm resting on one knee, in a dark blue suit, light yellow shirt, and striped tie. “Even if he only wanted sex, who could say no? He’s so dang sexy. Just look at him!” She held out the picture.
Angel stood up and crossed her arms across her chest. “Believe me, Chris. I’ve seen him.” Up close and personal, she thought as a shiver ran through her. “Do me a favor… just don’t start licking the ink off the page, will you?” she scoffed. “Medical insurance doesn’t cover stupidity.”
Christina shook her head in response. Angel was impossible.
“What did he say on the phone?”
“He asked me to dinner tomorrow night.”
Chris’s eyes widened. “You have to go!”
She ran her hand through her hair. “That’s just it; I don’t.”
“You’re insane. Absolutely bonkers! What could be the harm in a dinner?”
Angel let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t need to get tangled up with Alex Avery.”
“Not even between the sheets? God! I wish I were you. I wouldn’t tell him no, that’s for sure.” She did an anxious little jig, turning in a tight circle.
Angel’s heart thudded heavily. Well, maybe between the sheets would be fun. God knew sex with Kenneth had become mundane. Despite her thoughts, Angel admonished Christina’s tendency to careless behavior. “You, little girl, need to make wiser decisions.”
“Come on, Angel. I hear you every week! I know you’re not a prude, and I know you’re not against having sex for sex sake.”
“If you’re an adult and you can protect yourself; physically and emotionally, Chris, then, sure.”
“Okay, so… find out more about him.”
“We have to get back to work. The phones are lit up like Christmas trees.”
When Christina was firmly ensconced at her post, Angel replaced the headphones on her head and took a sip of her water as she watched the last ten seconds of the commercial tick off on her computer screen.
Alex sat on the leather couch in his great room with his Golden Retriever, Max, sprawled out across his lap. The dog was eighty pounds, but he was a huge baby and Alex adored him. They were inseparable when he was in town. He even took him to the office on occasion. Mrs. Dane refused to walk him, saying, in no uncertain terms, that she was no pooper-scooper and he didn’t pay her enough to be one. Alex liked her immensely and so allowed the tirade. He’d good-naturedly offered her a raise if she’d do it.
“Pfft. You can’t afford me. If that dog’s shit were made of gold, I wouldn’t touch it. Are we clear?” The next day, she’d called a dog walking service to be on retainer and that was that.
It was dark in his house, and he’d discarded his tie, belt, and jacket. His shirt was unbuttoned and left hanging open over his bare chest. His father would chastise him for not wearing an undershirt, but the Chicago summer had been so fucking sweltering.
He was still reeling that Angeline Hemming was the sexy little thing from all those months ago; the soft little girl who invaded his thoughts so much he no longer found the plasticity of Whitney exciting.
Alex listened to Angeline as he threaded his hands through Max’s luxurious coat over and over again. He leaned his head back on the couch, letting her voice wash over him. He wanted to hear her words, but since they weren’t for him, he was more into the sound of them than the content. What is it about this woman? He closed his eyes and let out his breath in a long sigh. Everything.
Darian wanted the two of them to go out downtown, and Alex was certain that, if they did, he could be fucking some willing woman instead of spending the evening alone with Max and Angel’s dulcet tones. He was somewhat pissed at his obvious weakness. Could he be that gone over her already, even though he knew nothing about her? Just the sight of her, the sound of her voice, her scent… was more than enough to affect him in painful ways.
His mind wandered to the contents of the file folder sitting on leather upholstery in the backseat of his Audi. Probably everything he wanted or needed to know about her was in there, but damn if he didn’t find himself resisting it. From what he’d seen and heard, she was utterly incredible, and he wasn’t worried that he’d find anything remotely untoward within the reports. More than that, he wanted to get to know her, really know her, not read a cold dossier. Suddenly, to do it the right way seemed important to Alex. If things evolved as he hoped, she’d be angry, and it would no doubt ruin any real chance he had of getting close to her.
He shook his head in amazement. In a matter of a few short hours, the contents of the investigation didn’t mean a goddamn thing. Physically, she drove him crazy. It was a blatant, tangible thing between them. He knew she felt it, and it excited him enough to make him shake. His cock hardened just remembering the urge he had to place his mouth on the pulse of her neck and touch her hair as he helped her with her jacket right before she walked out of the bar. Uncharacteristically, he’d been helpless to do anything other than watch her leave and feeling out of control in any situation was disconcerting. When she was singing that sexy song, he felt like it was only to him—because it was.
“Fuck,” he said into the large room and shifted uncomfortably. Max whined in protest at Alex’s movement. “Oh, Max. I’m so seriously screwed.”
“Welcome back, this is Angel After Dark… and I’m here for you. What’s your name?”
Alex’s pulse quickened when Angel’s voice filtered through the speakers and filled the air around him. His left hand went to his chest and he started to rub it, just slightly, at the unfamiliar feeling.
“Joanie.”
“Hey, Joanie. What can I help you with?”
The caller was crying softly, but as Angel waited for her to answer, he swore he could hear her breathe.
“My… my husband just left me. He’s screwing his secretary. Oh, God, it hurts so much! I mean, what about my children? They’re so young.”
“Oh, Joanie, I’m so sorry, honey.” Angel’s voice was sympathetic and sad. “So sorry.”
“Everyone is giving me all the bullshit clichés. You know, ‘you’re better off without him, you have a choice to feel better, just move on,’ and I can’t take more of that. Please don’t say that to me.”