Never Say Never, Part Two (Second Chance Romance, Book 2) by Melissa Shaw

 
    “I’ve looked it over,” Chloe pointed to a stack of clear binders on the credenza, “and had my secretary make copies. All set whenever you’re ready.”
    “Thanks, kiddo. I owe you one.” Glenn, ever on the go, scooped up the binders and dashed out, fat rolls jiggling under his sweat stained cotton shirt. How he managed to maintain his weight was another question entirely – he was an energizer bunny. An energizer hippo?
    She shook her head at herself and focused on the work instead.  
    Chloe toiled steadily, wading through the papers on her desk, answering correspondence, taking phone calls, putting out whatever small fires flared up – thankfully there weren’t that many. Two hours passed without incident.  
    This done and completed and put aside; that considered but temporarily delayed. Sticky notes littered the desk. They were her secret addiction – she loved tearing them off and slapping them on pages with no small deal of machismo.  
    It was her small concession: there were only work-related items on the desk. Nothing which hinted at her personality, her truth (other than the hidden stress ball): no framed photos, no meaningful knickknacks, no vase of fresh flowers or holders for scented candles. She considered the desk.  
    The office could’ve fallen straight out of an architectural magazine. She let out a long sigh.
    It wasn’t that she didn’t have any passions, simply that she couldn’t afford to show them off. She didn’t want any hints of who she really was, on the inside, in person, all of that, coming out. Chloe had slipped into obscurity like a duck into water.  
    She powered down her computer at 5:00, and arranged tomorrow’s work into neat stacks. Then she swiped her handbag off the floor and tucked it over her shoulder.
    “Hi, Chloe.” Jonathan Maynard, the boss of her boss moved into the room, blocking her path to freedom.
    Shit. She saved the lustrous leather tote before it fell. “Uh—hello.”  
    She’d had a crush on this guy for ages. Crush. For God’s sake, what was she, seventeen? Puppy love or infatuation, maybe… He was handsome, debonair even and he breathed the rarefied air of Pinnacle’s Upper Stratosphere.  
    Out. Of. Her. League.  
    He smiled down at her, leveling her with those slightly crooked teeth – they made him even more attractive. When a man was a little flawed, it just made him special – she’d never liked Abercrombie Fitch dudes.  
    He straightened his tailored navy suit around the extra pounds at his middle. He was delectable.
    “I’m sorry, Chloe, I didn’t realize you were on your way out,” he apologized. “This can wait till tomorrow.”
    No. There was an air of eagerness bubbling around him like champagne in a glass, and it intrigued her. But then, everything about him intrigued her.
    “That’s all right, Jonathan. What’s up?”
    Two years at Pinnacle Real Estate and she’d risen from lobby receptionist to staff secretary to Assistant for the Director of Day-to-Day Management Stu Martin – he’d given the title to himself, and she preferred jackass, but she’d risen nonetheless.
    Her duties overlapped from department to department, now. On most days, awesome responsibility; on others, awesome anxiety.
    She eyed the binders and envisioned her squishy little stress ball. It worked for the job stuff and the … private worries. She blinked that thought from her mind, keenly aware of Jonathan’s concerned gaze.
    He pushed aside stacks of work and leaned casually against the corner of her desk.
    Need a chair, buddy? She didn’t ask it, but the brain sarcasm helped calm her jangling nerves. God, he was sexy.
    “So, you’re the one who holds things together around here—sort of second-in-command. I thought I’d confer with you about a special project coming up.”
    The one holding things together, eh? She liked the sound of that.
    “Sure, I’ll be happy to put my oar in the water. Would you like to sit down?” She