She blinks, confusion clear on her face. “Coming with you where?”
“Investor wine tasting at Coruscant.”
“You’re fine.” She’s more than fine, actually. The black skirt and silk blouse she’s wearing are perfectly appropriate. Less appropriate are the thoughts I find myself having of teasing down the zipper of that skirt and seeing what color her panties are underneath. My money’s on black.
She looks back at my office, then at me, clearly trying to figure out my angle. “Is this a work thing?”
I could tell her about the investors, how having my lead project manager there would actually be beneficial. I could make this about business, keep it clean and professional. Instead, I hear myself saying, “My date canceled. I need someone who can talk about Project Olympus without boring everyone to
