Alfred spewed a plethora of apologizes, sounding as if he’d agree to a little self-flagellation for the error. Then the pair left, and the door shut behind them.

I climbed up between Mr. Romano’s legs, straddling his thighs as if I’d done it a hundred times before. God, he was warm. And hard all over. I made it a rule to not sleep with men I didn’t like, but I’d almost make an exception for this one. I took the initiative to straighten his already-straight tie.

He eyed me cautiously. “What are you, a thief?”

A smile touched my lips. “Only of men’s hearts.”

I smoothed a palm down his silk tie, my fingers moving lower of their own volition. He grabbed my hand just as it reached his lower stomach, the muscle beneath tense and burning through his shirt. He had abs. I was just as much a sucker for abs as I was for whiskey.

Disappointed he’d stopped me, I pouted. “You’re just mad I’m not going to take my clothes off for you.”

“I assure you, it’s a relief.”

I was getting him all wet—as platonic as it was—but I still relished the idea that, after I left, I’d leave an imprint on his expensive and handsome veneer.

He let me slide my palm against his, measuring the gross difference in sizes and the contrast between my chipped black polish and his clean, blunt nails.

My skin was a shade darker than his olive tone.

I received all my melanin from my father. He was a black car salesman who worked at Autos 4 Cheap. He didn’t know I existed—in a familial sense at least—but sometimes I’d walk the long way home just to give him a wave from the sidewalk. He’d wave back while he charmed his customers with a toothpaste-commercial-worthy smile.

I wondered if he had ever loved my mother; if he was bereft when she suddenly left him behind for a string of other men. Most of all, I questioned what he would think of me if my mother had ever told him he was my father.

“Have you ever been in love?” I asked, my voice suddenly soft.

“No.”

“Do you want to be?”

“No.” He slipped his hand from mine, and a weird sense of loss expanded within me.

“Why not? No, let me guess,” I hurried to say as if he was actually going to answer me. “Your parents are cold and so full of ennui they never showed you any affection, so you don’t know how to love. And even if you did, you think all women are just after your money. How did I do?”

He grabbed my thigh and tipped me right off his lap to the floor.

I grinned. “Spot on, huh?”

“It’s a wonder your parents didn’t give you away in sheer annoyance.”

I raised a brow. “How do you know they didn’t?”

He watched me for a heavy second. “I’m busy, and you’ve been an irritating distraction. There’s a back exit down the hall to the left.”

Getting to my feet, I made my way to the door. “Goodbye, Romeo.”

“Romano.”

I ignored his correction. “Try not to think about me too much.”

“You’re already forgotten.”

I smiled. “Liar.”

And then I slipped out the door.