“Why do you want me?” I shake my head, realizing the weight of my words. “For this position, I mean.”

“I saw something in you, and I want to explore it.” His voice is deep and masculine; I could listen to it all day. “Tell me, where did you go to school?”

I open my purse and pull out a copy of my resume, handing it to him. “UCLA.”

“And you’re from Nebraska?”

“Yes, long story,” I answer, crossing one leg over the other. One simple question, and my heart is already racing.

“What is your goal? What do you want to be when you grow up, Ms. Fields?”

“I want to design commercial spaces. I don’t want to arrange furniture or put together centerpieces. I know I have to start at the bottom, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make a name for myself.”

“What inspires you?”

I sit back, a little more relaxed. “It’s usually something small. A piece of art or fabric. I take in the colors and the lines and imagine it on a larger scale.”

“Name the last space that made you think, I wish I’d come up with that.” His eyes never leave me. So intense. So powerful.

“I’m not sucking up when I say this, but whoever designed your entrance is a genius.”

“Really?” he asks. He’s going to tell me he hates it, or it’s outdated. I feel it. “Because I designed that myself.”

I stare openly.

He laughs. “It’s okay, Lila. Very few people know I did that.”

I nod, darting my tongue out to moisten my dry lips. “So what does this apprenticeship involve?”

“We’re working on two hotel projects in the next couple months. The Design Apprentice will assist our design team in transforming them, and if all goes well, take on a permanent role in the company.”

I wonder if he notices my eyes lighting up. “When will you be making a decision?”

His lips curl. “I think I already have. Can you be here Monday morning at eight?”

“Seriously?” I ask, wanting to jump from my chair.

“It’s yours. The pay isn’t much, but if you succeed, it’ll be worth it in the long run.” He probably closes quite a few business deals, layering the good with the bad.

“What is the pay? Can I ask?”

“It would be stupid not to. Fifteen dollars an hour during the apprenticeship.” Right now, that’s a lot for me, but he doesn’t have to know that.

“I’ll take it.” I want to jump up and hug him, but I don’t.

He gets up from his chair, coming around his desk. “You made my day, Ms. Fields,” he says, offering me his hand.

“Likewise,” I say, placing my hand in his. “Thank you. For everything.”

The second he lets go of me, I head to the door, anxious to call everyone I know. “Did I dismiss you, Ms. Fields?”

Every part of my body stops moving, heart included. Once I regain my composure, I look back. “Sorry. I thought you were done with me.”

He takes long strides toward me, only stopping when we’re a couple feet apart. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Excuse me?”

His eyes drink me in. The way he does it leaves me feeling exposed and naked. “Is there a man in your life right now?”

What does this have to do with the job? Why would he be asking me this? He’s a powerful man behind a very successful business. What does he want from me? On top of that, the question is totally illegal. I learned that much in Business 101.

“Technically the interview is over,” he says, putting an end to the swirling thoughts in my head.

Blake’s face flashes through my mind, but I dismiss it. We’re nothing but an inconvenience to each other—definitely not dating.

“No,” I mumble, shaking my head to confirm the same. Since Derek, there’s been no one. I don’t think someone special even exists.

“Good.” He smiles then walks back to his desk. “You’re free to go now.”

I’m in a complete daze as I walk down the hall. Another strange Chicago job interview, but like the first, this one goes my way. It doesn’t mean I don’t question Pierce’s motives. We shared forty-five minutes of non-life altering conversation on a plane, and it landed me here. I would have run ten miles in heels if it meant the job would mine. I just want it to be for the right reasons.

The receptionist hands me my coat before I even ask for it, and I quickly shut myself in the elevator, afraid Pierce will change his mind. As I ride down, I pull out my cell phone and see a text from Dana, letting me know she found someone to cover my shift. I could have made it since the interview didn’t take as long as I thought it would, but it gives me time to celebrate.

I text Mom and Mallory, letting them know I’m on my way to living the dream and step back out into the cold winter air.

A SMILE CURVES MY LIPS as I make my way down the narrow hallway that leads to the apartment. Today was unexpectedly amazing . . . I haven’t had many days like that lately.

My phone was full of unread texts I’d ignored during the train ride home.

Mallory: I knew you’d find something. Details . . .

Mom: So happy for you. If it doesn’t work out, you always have a place at home.

Mom had mixed feelings about me moving here. She was happy I’d finally started to move on from Derek, but she was hoping I’d do it a little closer to home. The only thing that will give her reassurance is time.

I tuck my phone away and pull my key out. It turns easily, and my mouth falls open when I see Blake leaning against the kitchen counter waiting for me. I wasn’t expecting him today . . . or tomorrow . . . or even the next day. Not after what happened the other night.

“Hey,” I whisper, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

He pushes off the counter, eyes locked with mine as he stalks toward me. My heart pounds against my chest, enough that I hear it between my ears.

He stands so close that moving forward even an inch would have us touching. Reaching behind me, he slams the door shut. I shutter. From head to toe, a jolt rips through me. He’s not even touching me, but I feel him. The heat radiating from his body. His warm breath. I read the intense desire in his eyes, and then it all becomes too much.

Shaking my head, I try to push past him, but he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling my back to his chest. “Please don’t go.”

“What?” A part of me wants to snuggle against him—to feel the warmth of his body—while the other part is begging for space.

He walks us forward, pointing at the marked up newspaper I left on the table this afternoon. “Don’t go,” he says again.

“I have to. I’m done with this. One of us has to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, tilting my chin with his finger so my eyes are level with his.

“Then I am. I can’t do this hot and cold bullshit. I moved here to make life less complicated, and you’ve turned it into a freaking Rubik’s cube.” I want to be angry. I need the strength to put distance between us, but I can’t. Not when his skin is against mine. He paralyzes my ability to be the strong woman I strive to be.

“I don’t want you to go.” His nose is pressed against my hair. He inhales, curling his fingers around my silk shirt.

“Blake.” As his name leaves my lips, the fabric moves up my stomach. When I feel his fingertips brush across my skin, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. It’s been too long since I’ve felt this way—needing to have someone else’s skin against mine. Blake might be the last person I should be doing this with, but he makes me aware of my own heartbeat, strong and thunderous.

Laying my head back against his shoulder, I allow him to explore my neck with his mouth. His calloused hand runs the length of my stomach, increasing my desire. I’ve never wanted in the way I want him. His touch is wiping all doubt from my mind.

I shouldn’t do this.

I can’t do this.

A guy like Blake will only distract me. He’ll grip me tight, and then when I think I’m safe—when I think my heart’s safe—he’ll let me go. I can’t afford to take that risk. I can’t afford to have my heart shattered again by a guy like him.