8
IVY
Blinking rapidly, I returned with my new boss to the same hotel we’d stayed at last night. It was late afternoon, and I was tired and lightheaded from wandering around in constant disbelief since the day before yesterday. The time when mine and Gigi’s lives flipped completely upside down.
Unfortunately, there was no way I could relax with Mr. Taylor nearby. Sir, who sat with me in the back of the car, whose body radiated heat so that even though our legs didn’t touch, his warmth licked my thigh and set me on edge.
He was my masculine ideal, his hair a reddish blond with silver highlights and a thick scrub of gray shadowed beard painting his sculpted jawline. I respected the way he wore a suit every day, as if this were the 1940s when people dressed formally to travel, instead of
