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His office light was on

But—how? This couldn’t be She had gotten up at this ridiculous hour to get in first What about her plans, her big plans? The casual stroll by the printer, the way she was supposed to s, JD?

She heard a familiar rich baritone voice behind her

“Good , Payton”

Payton’s pulse skyrocketed She couldn’t help it,his voice had that effect on her She turned around and there he stood

J D Jameson

Payton paused to look hiht then, with his suit jacket already off and his classically cut navy pinstripe pants and yes, that perfectly styled rakish light brown hair of his He looked tan—probably out playing tennis or golf over the weekend—and he gave her one of his perfect-white-teeth sainst the credenza behind him

“I said, ‘Good ,’ ” he repeated And so Payton did what she always did when she saw J D Jameson

She scowled

The shithead had beaten her into work

Again

“Good , JD,” she replied with that sarcastic tone she reserved just for him

Noting her arrival, he checked his watch, then glanced up and down the hallith deliberate exaggeration “Wow—did I miss the lunch cart? Is it noon already?”

She really hated this guy

I hardly get in at noon, Payton nearly retorted, then bit her tongue No She wouldn’t stoop to his level and defend herself

“Perhaps if you spent a little less tis, JD, and a little , it wouldn’t take you fifteen hours to bill ten”