Natalie’s POVI was reorganizing a file that didn’t need reorganizing when the knock came.Not a polite knock. A familiar one.My fingers froze on the folder.“Come in,” I said, schooling my voice into calm.The door opened—and there he was. Brandon York. I gave a small, polite smile. One that you reserved for your boss when he drops by for a personal visit. “Hi,” I said. “Good morning.” Suddenly, everything that happened yesterday flooded my mind. That close encounter. He almost caught me. Almost found out that I was the same Natalie Harris he’d been wanting to talk to. The mysterious ex-wife. “Good morning, Natalie,” he greeted. “How are you today?”“I’m good, thank you.” In my mind, I was also recalling how he’d told me about his feelings last time. My heart began to pound harder. Is he planning to ask me out now? “You may have a seat,” I offered. “Oh, thanks,” he answered, sitting down in front of me and my desk. “You know, I was at Matthew’s bar last night and we ran into A
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