Chapter One
Not once had Vanessa Lyle considered she’d have to endure the dreadful walk of shame when she got to the office this morning. All eyes were glued on her as she shuffled past the lobby, into her cubicle. The partition in the workspace was so low—the company insisted the open space plan promoted workers’ productivity—that Vanessa couldn’t hide her face, even if she wanted to. So she dove under her desk, pretending to fix a computer cable, until it was safe for her to emerge.
Someone cleared their throat. Vanessa instinctively looked up.
Her coworker, Ivy Bishop, loomed from behind. “What are you doing?” she asked in her whinnying voice.
Vanessa winced inwardly. God, how she disliked this pugnacious person. It was Ivy’s fault she was in this situation. If Ivy hadn’t goaded her. If she hadn’t consumed so much alcohol.
If only.
If only.
That was the game she played over and over in her head.
Gah!
She needed a re-do button. She’d like to take everything back from that New Year’s Eve party.
“Do you need something?” Vanessa ignored Ivy’s query. She forced her face into a blank mask and climbed into her office chair. She powered up her dual monitors and the desktop and began her morning ritual: tidy up her workspace, arrange her notes and writing implements, then check her work journal. Mise en place. Preparation before work led to maximum productivity. It was going to be a busy day: two project meetings with the animation department and writing a patch program for the render farm.
Assuming she still had her job.
Vanessa wouldn’t put it past Quinn. She’d seen him fire people for lesser offenses. What she did to him at the office party put her in the cardinal sin category.
“I can’t believe you really kissed Quinn,” Ivy blurted.
Before Vanessa could open her mouth, others swooped in like hungry vultures.
“They said you walked up to Quinn and kissed him. Is it true?” asked the girl from accounting.
“Yowza. So how was it?” asked the girl’s friend.
Vanessa waved them off. “It was nothing. I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing,” she answered diplomatically. Like she was going to spill her guts to these people. Never! They were Quinn’s hardcore fangirls.
“You? Drunk?” The accounting girl rolled her eyes.
“What did Quinn do after you kissed him?” the other girl pressed.
“Uh-oh.” Vanessa pinched the bridge of her nose. The incident was rather hazy. Quinn looked surprised when she snuck up on him and tapped his shoulder. She then tip-toed and planted a light kiss on his lips. She remembered giggling afterward and did a thumbs up in Stephen and Ivy’s direction.
Then what happened after that?
Oh yeah. She recalled that Quinn had herded her toward the restroom, suggesting she was drunk. Duh, Captain Obvious. She remembered her boss helped her into a taxi, but not before pinning her against the wall, and kissing the life out of her.
Did that really happen or was it just a figment of her imagination?
There was no way Quinn would kiss her back. The man was an Ice King. Mr. All Work and No Play. His Majesty Lord Demon.
Now that she thought about it, did Quinn also get into the taxi and escort her to her rented home? Vanessa lived with two housemates, but at that time, Nina and Silvia had also been out partying. She couldn’t verify if Quinn had indeed taken her home.
And the next morning, Vanessa had the worst hangover ever. From that day on, she swore off alcohol for life.
“Well?” Quinn’s fangirls pressed.
“He knew I was wasted and put me into a cab and sent me home,” Vanessa said, omitting the rest.
“Did he say anything to you?” Ivy pestered.
Vanessa shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t remember.”
“Come on. This is Quinn we’re talking about. You must remember something.”
“I don’t know! Geez. After the fifth whiskey sour you guys forced me to drink, everything was kinda blurry.”
Ivy and the two girls looked disappointed.
“You’re the first one who dared to do that and get away with it. I wish I had the courage.” The girl from accounting sighed theatrically. “Quinn is so yummy.”
The others chorused their agreements.
Vanessa rolled her eyes. Give me a break.
Ever since their boss, Quinn Alexander, took over his uncle’s position as CEO of Animatrica, one of the country’s top five game developer studios, he had been subjected to endless gossip from the female employees.
Quinn was tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome. He was physically fit and a sharp dresser. It didn’t matter that he was perpetually broody. All his crankiness was forgiven by the opposite sex because he was one hell of a male specimen, jammed into a fine package: gorgeous, smart, and extremely wealthy. Many of his male employees often jested when Quinn arrived at the office. “A Witcher? Quick, hide your women.” An inside joke in the gaming world based on a blockbuster RPG game where the main character, “Geralt of Rivia,” had such incredible sex appeal that women kept flocking to him wherever he went.