"Yeah. Actually we're going out to get a drink together. Seeing as he didn't get to interview me for the job himself. Maybe we'll start off on the right foot this time around."
"Great! When?"
I check my phone on the sink.
"In about forty minutes."
Asha's smile drops, leaving a stunned incredulity on her face.
"So why aren't you getting ready?"
"What are you talking about?" I say, stepping back from the sink to show her my skinny chinos and tank top under the plaid shirt. "I am ready."
Asha steps back and looks me up and down, an expression of utter disbelief on her face.
"Did you say you were going for drinks? Or that you were going apple picking with him?"
I look back at the mirror.
"It's nothing fancy," I say. "Just a drink at his friend's spot. We'll probably just be talking shop a little before he has to run off and do something more important."
Asha steps beside me so that she can stare at me in the mirror.
"Girl, this is Cole fucking Chambers, everything he does is fancy. The guy's had his own TV show, he's been on the cover of GQ. You can't go on a date with him looking like someone who works in a hardware store."
"No," I say, turning to look at her directly. "It's not a date. This is just a work thing. Colleagues. There's nothing date-like about this, no ‘dateyness' at all."
I don't want to admit that I'd half-considered the idea myself before pushing it away-but I've got a feeling Asha is going to admit it for me.
"Oh please. You're not in Kansas anymore, honey. Ain't no gentlemen here. If he's taking you out for drinks and it's not daylight, trust me: he's interested."
"Why would he be interested?" I say, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the idea. "Like you said, he's ‘Cole fucking Chambers.' He can-and does-date a different European supermodel every week. I'm just his new employee."
"I guess we'd better get you looking like a supermodel, then," Asha says, spinning so fast she almost whips me with her braids.
I follow her as she marches into my bedroom and yanks open my closet.
"Why do I get the feeling you want me to fuck Cole?" I ask.
Asha flicks through my outfits shaking her head and grimacing at each one.
"I just want you to get close enough to introduce me."
"Even though yesterday it sounded like you wanted to get him in a chokehold?"
"That's how all my relationships usually start. Here," she says, pulling a tight sweater dress from the rack and jabbing it toward me. "Let me see you in this."
"This?" I say, taking the dress from her and staring at it. "I've never even worn this before. My sister bought it for me before I left. I don't even think it'll fit. It looks like barely enough material to make a pillow cover with."
"Should be perfect, then," Asha says, as she starts foraging in the base of the closet for boots. "The heels on these are a little high, but you won't be driving anyway. You're taking a cab, right?"
I narrow my eyes. "Why would I take a cab when I have a perfectly functional vehicle of my own?"
Asha laughs, handing me the boots. "If this night goes the way I know it will, you're gonna be so full of lust and alcohol that you'll be in no shape to drive yourself home afterward. Trust me, you want the cab. I'll call one for you now. Don't argue."
Knowing that I'm not going to win this battle, I retreat to the bathroom to get changed, more concerned about the idea that this is actually a date than I am about the dress. Did I miss something obvious? Am I so frazzled from work that I didn't pick up on the signs? Surely if this was a date he'd have said so-Cole Chambers is not exactly the kind of guy who hides his intentions. He might be hard to read, but dating an employee you've only just met is too stupid a notion for anyone to entertain. Or maybe that's the way things go in L.A.?
///
If this is a date, though, I'm not sure I should be going. Cole's my boss, and I've spoken to him a grand total of two times. Plus, I've worked my ass off to put my failures behind me-the restaurant flop, the small town claustrophobia and overbearingly concerned parents, the ex-boyfriend who was more like an emotional leech than a romantic partner-so dating is not on the menu of things I'm looking for, and it's completely against my current philosophy of starting fresh and taking things one step at a time.
But then again, there is a part of me that I have to suppress whenever I think of those intense eyes, the hard muscles of his tattooed shoulder, the way his forearms bulge when he crosses them over his perfect chest …