Page 15 of Dr. Bad Boy
She leaves, then I listen to the normal Friday night sounds of the office emptying out. The elevator dings, conversation murmurs, the clicking shut of doors.
After six, the front door is locked. I go to the reception desk to buzz Max up when he arrives, which gives me a moment to prepare myself for the privacy we’ll have when he steps off the elevator.
It doesn’t work.
He’s wearing jeans and a leather jacket. He looks relaxed and casual, and I suddenly feel like a complete fool for how I’ve dressed. My hand goes to the collar of my shirt and I undo the top button. Just one.
I don’t need to be a cartoon to ward him off. I just need to be firm.
It’s not like Max hasn’t made it abundantly clear he respects boundaries. I just need to establish them.
One side of his mouth lifts in a lazy smile and he lifts his hand. He’s got a brown paper takeout bag from an Italian restaurant a few blocks away.
No. I hold up my hand, as if that will stop him. “What is that?”
“Dinner.”
“I said no to dinner.”
“You said no to going out for dinner. You said nothing about me bringing dinner here.”
Heat swarms up my neck and makes my head spin with anger. “I said—.”
“Six-thirty. That's dinner time.” He steps closer. “And I’m starving.”
“Then we’ll be quick so you can take that home.”
“I got plenty. We can share.” His gaze locks on to mine. “Surely we find something that appeals to you.”
How has he not noticed I’m dressed like a school marm? This isn’t going to script at all.
I take a different approach. “Step into my office, Dr. Donovan.”
That makes him grin.
I roll my eyes and lead the way, moving around my desk once we get there. He closes the door behind him, but there’s a solid chance I’m going to be yelling, and I’m not sure we’re the only people left on the floor, so I don’t make him open it again.
“Let me make myself perfectly clear,” I say firmly as I tap on my desk and glare at him. “Nothing personal is on the menu.”
He laughs. “Of course not.”
“That’s not a joke.”
“Dinner, food, menu…it was clever.”
“It was deliberate.”
“Ergo…funny.”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop ignoring that I’m mad!” Okay, it didn’t take me long to get to the yelling.
“I’m not ignoring that fact, Violet.” His voice chills as he starts to take out food containers. “I’m trying to reframe the conversation given our new circumstances.”
I narrow my eyes and consider him as I would any opposing counsel trying to pull the same trick. “Trying would be the operative word there. Trying and failing, because reality can’t be reframed.”
