More Than Sorry

1: She Sees Too Much

After that... well... here's a hint: crazy, sexy, rollercoaster. My spine goes all tingly because those memories are all kinds of good.

But thoughts of naughtier times are suddenly interrupted when laughter rings out through the silent office.

I come to a dead stop. Not only because the high-pitched, feminine giggle is like some creepy-ass clown that sets me even more on edge in this creep-ass building, but because it's coming from Zach's office.

A second later, I see the woman herself under the blazing white light.

Miss Giggles stalks to the glass door of Zach's office, and her hand closes around the handle as if she's about to shut it. Her blonde hair is slicked back in a ponytail, but she's decked out in a silk blouse, skin-tight pencil skirt, and heels with a sole so red it looks like she rose from the fires of hell.

My vibe is all me—kinda edgy, sparkly color explosion. And it's not like I haven't caught the sneaky glances from people who like what they see, so I know I'm okay in the looks department. But that doesn't stop my tummy from plummeting when I glance down at my clothes. Loose black tee, black denim jeans with rips over the knees, and those hella cute sneakers. That woman in Zach's office looks like a million bucks. Me? I look exactly like what I am—a hairstylist who just finished working fourteen hours on her feet.

But screw feeling inadequate. One blip is all I let myself have. Miss Giggles will have to make herself scarce because I'm not sharing Zach for the few precious minutes I get to spoil him tonight. I blew off Friday night drinks with the girls for this.

My smile is automatic when Zach pops into view, following after his little office friend with quick strides toward the glass door. At first glance, he's as perfectly polished as always in his crisp navy suit, white shirt, floral silk tie, and that thick hair of his slicked back. But my stomach goes all flippy floppy when I notice the deep scowl darkening his eyes. Something's not right.

Suddenly, my pulse starts racing for all the wrong reasons. Shocked, not trusting my eyes, I stumble backward.

Miss Giggle's greedy claws are on Zach, tugging his jacket off his shoulders to toss it across the office before she shoves him against the shelves stuffed with old books. She pounces after him, fighting to get her lips on his neck as her hands fly to loosen his tie and then frantically attack the buttons of his shirt.

My heart slams against my ribs. I want to take a breath to slow it down, but my throat is all razors, and no air is getting through.

Zach's hands close over hers, stopping her from undoing more buttons on his shirt, but she's flicked off enough for me to see the smooth lines of his chest and just a hint of his crinkly chest hair.

Whispered words pass between them. Terrified, desperate, I need to hear their secrets, so I take one step and then another. The brown bag still clutched in my fist shakes as panic shuffles me closer and closer to Zach's office. I'm only a few steps away now. What do I do? Should I say something? I force my mouth open to shout out, but no sound comes out, and I'm paralyzed, powerless to do anything except watch the horror unfold.

More manic giggles escape from the woman when Zach's big hands grip her shoulders.

"Michaela," he says.

That must be her name. Even from that one word, his tone is ominous, like a warning, but for what? Get ready for sexy time? That's when he sounds all hoarse and throaty with me.

"You remember how hot it is between us," Michaela purrs with a flick of that blonde ponytail, her short red fingernails running up his chest. "Don't you, Zachy?"