I open the door, and there he sits in a navy suit. With his white shirt, dark hair, and piercing blue eyes, he looks like God’s gift to women. Maybe he is. “Hello, Emily,” he whispers as his sexy eyes hold mine.
“Hello.”
Jameson stands and stares at me. Our eyes are locked, and the air swirls between us. “Please, take a seat.”
I fall into the chair, and he sits behind his desk and leans back in his chair; his eyes don’t leave me.
“I wanted to see you about something,” I say as I glance at the glass of scotch beside him. I don’t know what kind of work has scotch involved, but where’s my glass?
I could do with a drink or ten right now.
He sits back and smirks as if amused.
“Umm.” I pause and swallow the sand in my throat. “So something has happened, and I know I could get into trouble
