I had made it back to my desk and realized that meeting only left me with about 30 minutes left in my workday. I jotted down a quick to-do list for tomorrow morning—number one being to meet with the digital design team to start bringing my tequila ad vision to life. The FireWater project was already living rent-free in my brain.
Fifteen minutes later, I shut down my computer, grabbed my keys, and made a beeline for the elevator. I wasn’t about to get distracted again. No phone. No zoning out. Eyes forward.
Which meant, naturally, the elevator doors opened to reveal Jace Vaughn.
Again.
And yes—he saw me mouth "s**t" to myself.
His smirk said it all.
I stepped in, this time consciously moving to stand to the side, not smack in front of him like I had a forehead-death-wish. He cleared h
