When the Lights Go Down. Amy Jo Cousins

I suppose the parents know best.”

      He shoved the pillow off his head and sat up in the dark.

      “Maxie?”

      “You said to call with the good news.” Her laughter rumbled through the phone. She sounded so close, whispering in his ear in the silence of his room. He glanced at the digital glow of the clock next to his bed.

      “It’s three o’clock in the morning. Where are you?”

      “Downstairs, having a chat with your doorman.”

      After calling the desk to okay his late-night visitor, Nick managed to drag on a pair of dark jeans and a gray T-shirt. In his kitchen, he set a coffee mug, a water glass and a wine goblet on the counter.

      That’s when the solid knock landed on his door.

      He pulled open the heavy wooden door and then stepped back, looking at her framed in the light from the bright hallway. Her clothes were wrinkled and her eyes were tired, but she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, probably still riding an adrenaline high that would have her crashing any minute. He turned to the side, motioning her in.

      She didn’t move.

      Chin lifted, she stared at him, an almost visible shimmer of energy rising off her skin.

      “I don’t sleep with people I work with. Or for.”

      An interesting opening line.

      “You know, you don’t really work for me.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and leaned one shoulder against the doorway. He’d thought about this quite a bit in the week during which he’d kept himself away from the project. “I’m more of an outside consultant.”

      Her slow grin slid over him like tiny, licking flames.

      “See, that’s just what I was thinking.” She stepped inside and closed the door.