Daisy looked down from above. “Well, isn’t this cozy?”

Max barked and licked Layla’s face, his little tongue soothing the burning in her cheeks.

Layla turned her head and saw two pairs of shoes, one large, black, and shiny and the other pink Converse decorated with sparkles. Thankfully, no chappals.

“What the hell, Layla?” Sam spluttered. “That was a $200 tie!”

“Get off me. It’s not my fault. Daisy should have warned us that she was going to open the door.” She wiggled beneath Sam but his hard, heavy body was impossible to move, and the more she squirmed, the harder a certain part of it seemed to get.

“I thought you said no missionary,” he whispered.

“Oh my God,” she raged, keeping her voice low. “Are you getting off on this?”

“I’m a man. You’re rubbing yourself all over me. What did you think was going to happen?”

“I thought you were all about self-control.” Something she seemed to be lacking at the moment. Fire licked between her thighs. And the heat . . . She felt like molten lava was running through her veins.

“Not around you.” He pushed himself up with seemingly little effort and held out a hand to assist her, as if he hadn’t just thrown out a little three-word nugget that required further explanation. “Let me help you.”

“No, thank you.” She threw her forearm over her eyes, blocking out the world. “I would rather lie here and die of humiliation.”

“No one has ever actually died of humiliation,” Sam said, his voice amused.

“How would you know?” she spat out. “Have you read the death certificates of every person on the planet? I’m sure out of billions of people, there has been at least one death attributed to utter humiliation.”

“You must be Nasir’s daughter, Layla.” The unfamiliar male visitor had a deep voice and a keen sense of observation.

Still lying on the floor, Layla moved her arm away. The visitor’s black shoes were clean and polished, his dress pants smartly cuffed. He wore patterned argyle socks that reminded her of the ones Dev had worn for his high school graduation.

Sam crouched beside her and used two hands to pull her up to a sitting position. “Are you hurt?”

“How kind of you to ask about my well-being after worrying about your $200 tie.” Still, she accepted his help because there was no way to get up gracefully in a skirt and heels.

“Layla Patel, meet my friend John Lee,” Sam said. “He’s an attorney in the law firm upstairs. He’s the one who told me about the vacancy in the office.”

“You have nice socks, John Lee.” Layla shook his hand.

“Thank you.” John was a good-looking guy, his face long and angular, a pair of wire-framed glasses perched on his nose. Slightly rumpled in rolled-up shirtsleeves, his pink-and-blue-striped tie askew, he looked more like a university professor than any lawyer she knew.

“Which Lee in Lee, Lee, Lee & Hershkowitz are you?” Daisy asked.

“The second.” John bent down to pet Max, who soaked up the love, rubbing his head under John’s broad palm.

“Cute dog. I’m sorry he has to go,” John said. “I would have liked to get to know him better.”

Daisy frowned. “Why does he have to go?”

Sam shot John a not-too-subtle warning look and drew a line across his throat.

“Sam doesn’t want him in the office,” Layla offered. “He thinks it’s unprofessional.”

“I told you not to tell him Max peed on his chair.” Daisy picked Max up and hugged him to her chest. “I’ll get it cleaned next week.”

John gave Sam a puzzled look. “I thought they were le—”

“They aren’t.”

“Didn’t you give her the—”

“No.”

“We aren’t what? Give me what?” Layla didn’t have a good feeling about this hatchet job of a conversation. There was something going on that Sam didn’t want her to know.

Sam clapped John on the shoulder and led him toward the door. “Everything’s good. The office is working out well. I’m working on a big pitch, and Layla’s getting her business up and running. She’s having a hard time finding corporate clients but I think she just needs to figure out a marketing strategy.”

“I do?”

“You should give her Evan’s card,” John said. “He’s great at this kind of thing. And if I have any clients looking for staff, I’ll send him her way.”

“Who’s Evan?” Her curiosity piqued, Layla followed behind them.

“And Daisy’s doing a fantastic job at reception,” Sam continued. “So I think we’re all set here.”

“Fantastic?” Daisy’s eyes narrowed. “What were you guys smoking in there?”

“Bye, John,” Layla called out as he pushed open the door. “Stop by anytime. We always have extra food from the restaurant. Just come and help yourself.”

“That’s a good idea,” Daisy said. “Lure him back with treats. I’ve always wanted to get into a lawyer’s briefs.”

Layla followed Sam back to his desk. “Did you hit your head when we fell? Why did you chase your friend out of the office? And what did you mean about figuring out my marketing strategy?”

“I didn’t realize you were struggling.” Sam pulled out his phone and texted as he talked. “You don’t seem to have a problem finding employees, but they don’t pay the bills; the corporates do. And they don’t know you exist.”

“Thank you for mansplaining my job to me.” Too bad Sam’s clients were all about letting people go. With his corporate connections and her growing stable of workers, they could have made a good team. “The problem isn’t that I am unaware of who pays the bills, but that I’m not good at selling myself to them. I didn’t have to hunt for clients in New York. Glenlyon Morrell is one of the East Coast’s biggest recruitment agencies. The clients just came to us.”

“That’s why you need a brand.” His phone buzzed and he checked the message.

“They have my name,” she protested. “My old boyfriend Jonas is a social media star and he uses his own name, Jonas Jameson.”

“Social media is different.” Sam sniffed his chair, wafting the air toward his nose. “He isn’t trying to attract corporate clients. A company name gives the impression of stability and creates trust when you’re dealing with other companies. It makes you appear polished and legitimate. Everyone who comes in here mentions ‘Nasir Patel’s daughter’ or ‘the daughter of the owners of The Spice Mill.’ You’re trading off your parents’ brand. You need to figure out who you are and what core values you are going to bring to your company that will make you stand out in a crowded market. It was one of the first things Royce and I did when we went into business together and it made all the difference.”