Page 144 of Unsuitable

Casual Friday? What the hell, Daisy? I’m a maid. Do maids even have casual Fridays?

“Casual Friday?” Toby echoes.

“The staff all put in a little money to wear casual clothes today, and we’re donating the money to charity,” Kas says calmly.

My eyes flick to his. I see the grin in them. I quickly look back at Toby.

“Sounds like a great idea. Which charity?” Toby asks me.

My mouth goes dry.

“RSPCA,” Kas answers for me.

“We’ve never done that in my office. I’m going to suggest it at the next meeting.” Toby smiles, looking suitably happy with himself. He opens the biscuit tin and helps himself to one.

I turn, catching Kas’s eyes, which are still grinning at me but filled with heat, too. So much heat.

Crap.

Looking away, I nervously swallow down.

“Coffee?” I ask Kas as I move across the kitchen, heading back to the coffee machine.

“Sure,” he answers, his voice molten.

I grab three cups from the cupboard.

“So, how is everything with you, Kas?” Toby asks him.

“Good.”

“Business going well?”

“Yep. Daisy?”

I pause what I’m doing and glance back at him over my shoulder.

His face is impassive, but memories of last night are clear in his eyes. My stomach flips.

“Bring my coffee to me in my office.”

If you didn’t know him as well as I do, then you’d miss the suggestive curl of his lip and the sexual intent in his voice. But I do know him, and I know why he’s telling me to come to his office.

Heat surfaces in my face and my lady parts. “Okay.” I swallow.

I don’t watch him leave the kitchen because I’m too busy trying to control my raging hormones.

Somehow keeping composure, I finish making the coffees and carry them over to the table. I put Toby’s cup down in front of him.

“I’ll just take this to Kas.” I lift Kas’s coffee cup in gesture.

Toby lifts his eyes from the papers in front of him, and then he smiles and nods.

Seeing my case notes laid out on the table reminds me why I’m here.

I’m not here because I’m Kas’s girlfriend. Well, I’m not actually his girlfriend.

Look at me, getting ahead of myself. We’ve had one failed date and sex.