Part 44 | H E R • F U T U R E

Pulling my black, skin-tight, off-the-shoulder dress out of my

closet, I bit my lip. It was sexy yet elegant, even with the thigh slit, and I loved it. But I’d never worn anything like this before in front of Dane, my boss. It would feel weird.

My gaze flicked to the more formal dress further along the closet rail, but then I remembered what Dane had said to me yesterday before I left o-Verve ...

Don’t dress as my PA. Wear what you’d wear to go on a date, not what you’d wear to go to a business dinner.

I looked back at the black dress I was holding and gave it a firm nod. Yes, this would do. I’d throw on a light layer of makeup, add some jewelry, maybe curl the ends of my hair and leave it down. First, I needed to shower.

Blowing out a breath, I put a hand to my fluttering stomach. First dates were always nerve-wracking. But this wasn’t a real date, so I technically had no need to feel nervous. There was no pressure to impress, no worry that this might end up being a waste of my time,