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

couldn’t resist. She gestured to the chrome and canvas chair backed up against the glass partition separating her office from open space.
    “No,” his mouth quirked at the corner, “I’d rather discuss it over dinner tonight, if you’re free. You are free, aren’t you?”
    Months of hearing his voice in the distance, months of drooling after him like puppy, months of business contact—and now this. Plans? She’d change them in an instant, if it meant she could be with him.
    She clamped down on her rising excitement and tipped her head to the side – mock considering it. She pressed her lips together, then pursed them and said, “Actually, I am free. Mind if I take a few to freshen up?”
    “Sure, take as long as you like. I’ve waited two years, I can wait ten minutes longer.”
    What did that mean? Blood rushed to her face, and she rose quickly to hide the blush. If that wasn’t a promising sentiment, then what was?  
    Chloe slipped past him – the heat from his body drew her in but she forced herself to maintain the distance between them. The tip of her peep-toe pump caught on the chair’s caster and she stumbled. He reached out a steadying hand; his clutch on her upper arm sent electric charge along her nerves. She held back a gasp. Were those sparks in the air a figment of her imagination? She could’ve been in a Disney flick right now.
    Jonathan stepped out of the way, eyebrows raised, breath ragged. He’d felt it too.
    Chloe smoothed down the side of her pencil skirt, settled the collar of her white silk shirt, and managed, “Uh—I’ll—uh—be right back.”
    Corporate headquarters took up the tenth floor of the Manhattan-based building, near Central Park, with access to public transit and loads of shops and restaurants. Its location was its strongest selling point: it was easy to do anything here.
    Even if it that anything was a disappearing act.

    They strolled down the hall, between rows of desks and observers. It was a gauntlet, and she’d have preferred an Indiana Jones movie. Give her gargantuan axes swinging from the walls over gossiping coworkers any day.  
    They chatted lightly, and her thoughts went mad in the background.
    Why couldn’t this dinner have taken place after hours, when no one was around? Hell, even a breakfast meeting before work would’ve been better.   By tomorrow the office would be a hotbed of gossip, with Chloe Sheldon and Jonathan Maynard the topic of bawdy jokes.  
    “I thought we’d go to Piper Lee’s, down the block,” said Jonathan pleasantly, as they approached the elevator. The shining brass doors, smudge-free surfaces, slid silently open and shut again after they moved into it. “It’s quiet and private, just the atmosphere I’m looking for. And it’s nearby enough to walk, since the weather is so pleasant.”
    Would the atmosphere of the restaurant be on a par with the esoteric air of Pinnacle? How often had he breathed that air? She stared at his lips as they walked the streets and were ushered to their seats in Piper Lee’s.  
    They were in a softly lit corner booth. Romantic, much? Butterflies battered her stomach – equipped with combat boots, most likely. She was used to anxiety, but excitement? She’d strained to avoid that at any cost. Well, it was too late now.  
    Chloe perused her menu under the eye of the snobbish server. He tapped his thin, pale fingers on the side of his watch – was that a Timex? – and eyed her from beneath a refined brow.  
    “Drinks first,” decided Jonathan. “Whiskey and soda for me. Chloe?”
    She hesitated. Dinner with the boss, and alcohol besides? Too much, too fast. “Just an iced tea, thanks.”
    “Long Island?”  
    “Oh, goodness, no.” Hard spirits after a booze sabbatical: that was a deadly combo. She’d learned that long ago, at her own cost. She smiled, “Better keep my wits about me, if we’re discussing business.” That should lessen the sting of the refusal.  
    Jonathan