Chapter 1

IF YOU OWNED a vagina, you couldn’t help but notice this man as he walked into the restaurant. Tall, athletic, dark hair slightly graying at the temples, and blue eyes that I wouldn’t mind being undressed by.

Leah, that’s Christopher Reiss, I whispered to my roommate, who was sitting across from me. The new CEO of J. S. Taylor.

What’s he doing at Amore’s? Leah snorted. Ever since we’d moved to New York four years ago, Amore’s was our go-to place because of one thing: rock-bottom prices for carafes of house red.

He’s so sexy, Leah continued as I watched Christopher sit down, alone, at a corner table. I’m jealous you work with him.

I was hired as an administrative assistant at J. S. Taylor, a financial firm, about a month ago, right around the time Christopher was brought in to revamp its image. At thirty-eight, he was the youngest CEO in the history of the company and also the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in person. And I had once caught a glimpse of Ryan Reynolds in Starbucks.

Um, if by ‘work’ you mean get him coffee whenever he meets with my boss, then sure, we ‘work’ together. I rolled my eyes.

Oh, wah-wah, Megan. They pay you bank; stop complaining, Leah said. This was true—I’d come to New York hoping to become a journalist. After four years, little luck, and a disastrous breakup with my live-in boyfriend that was as expensive as it was painful, I had no choice but to get a real job. Fortunately, I was still able to freelance occasionally.

Suddenly, another man joined Christopher at his table. I recognized him instantly as Martin Gradiano, a reported mob-connected business tycoon running for mayor of New York. Shady. Even shadier? Christopher was publicly endorsing the other candidate.

Okay, we need to go. I hurriedly filled Leah in as we paid the bill and left. I prayed that Christopher didn’t recognize me. But all my life, people have commented on my distinct, naturally pale blonde hair, so even though I wasn’t rocking my usual power suit, I worried he had spotted me.

Another hot Friday night, I whispered, taking in my cold cup of coffee and the computer screen in front of me. I had a massive amount of work I still hadn’t touched, since I’d spent the entire morning working on a freelance article that I knew was bound to get buzz. Only now it meant I was stuck for hours looking over financial spreadsheets just to appease my manic boss, Billy.

I nearly jumped out of my favorite little black work dress when my office cubicle’s phone rang.

Holy shit. The caller ID read