"Who are you meeting?" Jasper inquired, breaking the silence as he accompanied me toward the lobby where we'd separate into our glass caves on opposite ends of the floor.

I spun on my heel to face him, holding tightly to the paperwork against my chest. "Curious?"

"Always curious about you, Rosie." He winked, and my heart skipped a beat. I wondered if he noticed, and I resented myself for the tickle spreading through me. "Stop in later. I need to talk to you about a few things from my meetings yesterday."

"I will," I promised. My smile quickly faded while I watched him step away, his lean and tailored perfection perfect from any angle. Jasper's hands rested inside his pockets which made it impossible to avoid staring at how the tails of his suit coat raised slightly over the perfect shape of his backside.

"I wish you'd let me keep wine in the office," Callum's raspy whisper interrupted my hypnosis. "I'd give you some right now."

"Me, too," I admitted, sighing. "Want to get lunch?"

Callum scratched his cropped black hair while responding. "I thought you had a meeting."

"I lied," I told him, my gaze still trained on Jasper's path. When I looked away from his wake and grinned at Callum, we agreed to have wine at lunch.

"I'm not sure the boss would approve," he chucked a sweet, hearty laugh. "He's pretty rigid."

I blushed thinking of just how rigid Jasper could be, and I couldn't help the giggle tormenting my lips as I opened my office door.

"Jasper isn't your boss, Cal. I am, even if we own this company equally. So, if I say I'm taking you to lunch, in which we'll consume wine and maybe some food, then that's what you're going to do. If you don't like it, get another job," I teased, entering my office.

Tossing the documents from our meeting onto my desk, I took a moment to scan the wall of windows. Closing my eyes, I thought of the windows at home, and how Jasper and I fell apart beneath them too many times to count...just a few nights ago.

Chirping from the doorway, Callum playfully told me he loved his boss while I stood with my eyes still closed. When he squeezed his arm around my shoulders, it felt like a pity squeeze so I reassured him I was fine and I'd meet him downstairs in a few minutes.

I took full advantage of the five minutes between Callum's hug and meeting him downstairs, trying not to think of Jasper's pants impeccably hugged his backside moments ago. Quickly reviewing my calendar, I grabbed my azure wool coat from the back of my office door and slipped into the elevator for my lunch date.

Callum snagged a window seat at a restaurant down the block from our building that catered to business professionals and wine connoisseurs. I was a successful attorney who owned fifty percent of a publishing house and loved wine, so he knew the perfect place to take me. We were on our second glass, which I promised would be our limit before returning to work, when Callum's counterpart became a topic of conversation.

"The way she leans in front of him all the time and bends over," he roared mid-sip.

"Nicole needs his approval, I guess. Lonely girl." I sneered, twirling the wine in my glass. Callum huffed a little, shaking his head before sipping from his glass.

"Is it weird?" His face scrunched, eyeing me with confusion.

Being attracted to Jasper was not weird, it was utterly impossible to avoid. I took another sip, trying to shake the euphoria of his stubble against my throat out of my thoughts.

"Tell me about your world," I changed the subject. "How's Chris?" I knew Chris would snap Callum out of whatever awkwardness he felt, and his cheeks immediately reddened with his blush.

"It's getting serious," he answered. "He's staying at my place more nights than he isn't and he cooks me breakfast, Rose."

"That's wonderful." I fawned over it. Chris was amazing, I absolutely adored Callum, and their happiness was contagious. "Is he coming to the award ceremony in January?"

"I hope to invite him." Callum nodded, his smile widening. "Could you imagine him in a tux? I'll die. You'll need to carry a mop around after me all night." Thinking of Jasper, I felt the same way.

"Deal," I giggled. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Anything. It's what you pay me for. That and my excellent taste in lunch dates."

"True." I paused, considering how to best make my next request of my assistant without sounding like an idiot. "I'm thinking about the trip to New York next week. Can you see to it that Nicole doesn't accompany us?"

He leaned forward against the table, glancing around before looking at me. "Is this because of Jasper?"

"No," I scoffed with a laugh. "Well, sort of. I just don't want to deal with the bending and the flirting just yet. I know she did that when we were married, but I don't want to actually watch it happen."

"Jasper would never do that to you. Even if you'd ended your marriage on bad terms," he defended Jasper. "He's a respectable guy. He's only ever shown his care for you, your company, and the people in his life."

"How much does he pay you to say that," I teased, rolling my eyes.

"It depends on who I'm saying it to," Callum's laughter echoed around us, "but he just sends me a case of wine once per month."

I nodded, knowing this was probably the truth, and happy Jasper and I both thought so highly of Callum. He shouldn't have been my assistant; he was meant for more, something creative and independent, but I was going to do what I could to keep his companionship for as long as I could while trying to help him however I could.

The walk back to work was frigid so we linked arms, but it wasn't just the chill. Those drinks were too delicious. I learned to excel in walking under the influence of slippery conditions, cold weather, blistering shoes, and too much wine. Therefore, the walk into our building and off the elevator shouldn't have been a problem.

Still attached at his elbow, we were discussing the best thing Chris made Callum for breakfast. His gestures and exaggerated story had us both quivering with laughter when the elevator door spread open, revealing the pristine lobby.

"Rose?" Jasper stood at the reception desk, leaning against the counter with his ankles crossed, while he sorted through missed messages with Dahlia, our receptionist. His widened eyes rang of confusion as we nearly tumbled from the elevator.

"Mr. Winston." I curtseyed, releasing Cal's arm as I began heading toward my office.