Gabriella

Niles peered around the doorframe leading to my office. Today, his hair was down, the way I liked it, the tips curling toward his chin. “Are we still on for lunch?”

I looked up from the notes I’d been reading at my desk and lifted my fingertips to my temples. “Do people still take two-martini lunches?”

My friend flashed a smile. “If we can’t have a two-martini lunch, I’m game for drinks after work. I have ...