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“Do you find , Ms Miller?”

I consider that objectively “No You don’t intimidatethis job, but he doesn’t

His brow arches “You’re sure about that?”

I open s and the doors open to a rush of people A woiggling females I sidestep to avoid her, but it’s too late: She stoe to catch pieces of conversation that tell me I have just become a victim of a well-lubricated bachelorette party

I tu body absorbshands close down on h baritone I already know as my boss’s, and then he leans in even closer, his mouth near my ear, his breath warm on my neck “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I reply, but it comes out as more a pained pant than a confident assurance I’m not sure if that’s because my foot has been sto everywhere he is touching me—and in some intimate places he is not

“I’ appalled, only to be shoved toward ain as the party piles in and crowds us like sardines in a can Desperate to stay standing, the foot stoo “So sorry”

“It’s not your fault,” I e

Mr Ward leans down again, and, Lord helpan executive decision We need to get out of the car before we are locked inside with them for who kno many floors”

“Yes,” I agree, and I all but gasp as his fingers curve inties me forward

I don’t breathe until we break free of the elevator and he releases me

“How’s your foot?” he asks He is taller than I reiving me another one of those intense inspections I tell ain, no et, I never seeh

“Not as painful as h nervously “What can I say? I like toI didn’t have a lot of time”

“Do you need to sit?”

“We need to get you to the airport,” I say, and add the o “I’m bruised, not broken” And I intend to prove it was, and is, true