Tessa Johansson
Holy f**k! What did I just agree to? The words roll around in her head.
She holds his gaze, frozen, unable to move.
Eli releases her, takes a step back, and then he leans over the desk. His fingers tap on the
keyboard. Once he hits enter, the printer next to him ushers a series of beeps, then begins to print
out the daily numbers.
Inventory. He usually does an electronic sweep of the alcohol on hand before he leaves,
which shoots out an order if any of the products are below average thresholds.
"Do you need any help?" The pent up nervous energy coursing through her body has her
on edge.
"No." He turns away, then focuses his attention on the printer that's spitting out papers.
"I'm just about done here." The sides of his mouth quirk upward. "Get your stuff an
