My Beautiful Pheromones

MY TYPE

“So what does this hottest man look like?” Parker asked, flopping onto the edge of my bed. “Tall or short? Built enough to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, or more on the lean side?”

“Judging by how his clothes fit, he’s muscular,” I said. “Not too big, not too small. Just enough to make my legs feel weak and make me want to kiss him.”

My stomach fluttered just talking about him.

“Is he your type?”

“He’s so much my type. Even though I get the feeling he doesn’t like me that much. The way he looks at me sometimes makes me think I’m just another girl trying to get his attention. But I understand, we just met”

“Most guys these days aren’t that hard to read. You should’ve made a move.”

“That’s ridiculous. He should make the first move. I’m not some easy girl, and you know that.”

“Sorry, Queen.” Parker grinned. “So are we still going out for drinks? You look really stressed. I’ll let you off the hook tonight because it was your first day, but we’re definitely going this weekend.”

“Thank you, Parker. You’re the best roommate.” I hugged him tightly, then dropped onto my soft bed and pulled the pillows close. He covered me with my fluffy pink blanket, a gift from an old crush who never and will never stand a chance.

“Sleep tight, love,” he said, and the door clicked shut behind him.

I was horny and exhausted as hell, and it was definitely Dylan Owen’s fault. But there’s absolutely no way I was going to get myself off while thinking about a man who didn’t even seem interested in me. I just closed my eyes and tried to sleep it off.

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The next morning came too quickly. My head pounded and my back ached. It felt like I’d only closed my eyes five minutes ago, but somehow it was already time to get up.

I got dressed quickly and left for work without seeing Parker. I figured he’d be fine.

In the parking lot I ran into my boss, Mr. Smith.

“Hello, early bird,” he said.

“Good morning, Mr. Smith.”

“Beautiful morning to you too. We’ve got a lot to do today. The overall boss sent over some documents for clients early this morning. There’s a meeting at noon where we have to present the paperwork. I thought I’d handle it myself, but he specifically asked for my assistant to be there and prepared.”

He looked at me. “What do you say?”

“I’d be glad to help in any way. It’s an honor to work with you on something important. And maybe I’ll finally meet the president of the company. Win-win for me.”

“Alright. Come to my office at 8:30 once you’ve settled in. I’m heading to HR to drop off a file.”

“See you at 8:30,” I said, waving as I pressed the button for the tenth floor.

Fifty minutes later I was sitting across from Smith, sorting files, taking notes, and bouncing ideas back and forth. We worked nonstop for about an hour before we both got confused and had to stop for coffee. Then we jumped right back in.

I was so nervous I almost wanted to back out of the meeting. At 11:30 the alarm went off. We cleaned up quickly and got ourselves ready.

“Are you ready, Zoey?” Smith asked while putting on his suit jacket.

I looked at him steadily. “Yes. Never been more ready.”

“Good. Before we go, I want you to know you did well. We’re going to meet whatever expectations they have.”

“Thank you. That helps with the nerves.”

He smiled. I smoothed my pink pants and cream blouse, reapplied my lip gloss, and took a deep breath. We walked to the elevator and rode up to the twentieth floor. I wasn’t surprised that was where the top boss’s office should be.

When we arrived, we saw we weren’t the only ones presenting. Two other groups had already gone in and were just leaving. That gave me a quick look at the waiting area. The cold air hit me the second we stepped in, and I shivered a little. Everything was decorated in soft gray, the sofas, the art on the walls, the rug on the floor. The only color came from black vases with green plants that looked well taken care of. The security check was strict, and the door simply said “Meeting Hall” in bold gold letters.

It was almost noon. We had about ten minutes to wait and calm down.

A few minutes later a woman in a red blazer walked out. Her skin glowed under the lights, and she wore blue glasses. I later found out she was just the receptionist for the twentieth floor. Apparently every floor had one, and they stayed an extra hour after work to organize everything for the next day.

Smith looked at me and said, “Zoey, we’ve got this, right?”

“Yes, we do. Let’s smash this together.”

“That’s the spirit.”

The receptionist opened the door and gestured for us to go in first. My heart started racing. I had no idea who was waiting inside, and I really didn’t want to mess up the first impression or I’d be damned.

The first pair of brown eyes I met belonged to Dylan Owen and I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole.

I tried to keep walking normally, but my heels suddenly felt unstable. My balance disappeared. The next thing I knew, my hands were on his neck and our faces were almost touching.

For a second neither of us moved. His scent hit me again… that same mix of oud that had messed with my head in the elevator. Up close he looked even better than I remembered. His eyes stayed locked on mine, calm and unreadable. My cheeks burned. I could feel the solid muscle under his suit jacket where my hands rested.