Page 24 of The Fix Up

“Gaudy, isn’t it?”

Holly looked back at him. “What?”

“The penthouse. My friend, Parker, calls it the millionaire mausoleum.”

“Parker has a point.”

“It’s one of the perks of this CEO gig, so I guess I can’t complain.” He stepped past her to shove a key card into the slot beside a massive mahogany door. “If nothing else, it’s convenient having a place in the same building as my office.”

“I imagine so, if you’re a workaholic.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Me, too,” she admitted. “But I love my job, so I’m not complaining.”

“Same here.” Ben frowned. “At least I did. I haven’t done the CEO thing long enough to fall in love.”

“You will,” she said encouragingly, hoping it was true.

He shrugged, then shoved the door open. He flicked a light switch, bathing the entry in a pool of warm light. He turned to Holly and smiled. “There’s another CEO perk besides the apartment.”

“What’s that?”

“An administrative assistant who hates social functions almost as much as I do, and who was more than happy to slip out on a quest to purchase a tasteful variety of women’s loungewear in your size.”

Holly stared at him, not sure whether to be more impressed by his foresight or by the massive slate foyer he’d revealed by pushing open his front door. “Wow.” She stepped through the entry, resisting the urge to touch a marble statue or the textured wallpaper or Ben’s abs. She settled for keeping her hands to herself. “Impressive.”

The compliment applied to the game plan, the apartment, and the abs, though she was pretty sure Ben didn’t take it that way.

“Thanks,” he said. “None of it’s really mine. It comes with the job, but it’s not really me, you know?”

Oddly enough, Holly was pretty sure she did know. This place didn’t look like Ben, but she checked it out anyway as she padded barefoot to the edge of a cream-colored plush carpet that seemed to extend for miles. She peered into the room, noticing there wasn’t a speck of furniture anywhere. Just a massive television the size of a small car.

“Here’s the downside,” he said, stepping up behind her. “None of the furniture I ordered has been delivered yet, so we’re going to have to make do without it. Are you okay sitting on the floor?”

“Do you have bedding?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Are you proposing a slumber party?”

She laughed and tried to ignore the flush spreading through her body at the thought of getting into bed with him. Crap, maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.

“I just meant we could make a cozy nest of blankets and pillows on the floor,” she said. “Seems like the perfect way to watch a movie.”

“Deal,” he said. “You get your PJs. I’ll get the popcorn going. We can make the blanket fort together.”

“You really do think of everything, huh?”

“I try,” he said with a grin. “Carol said she’d leave the shopping bags in the powder room over there. Pick whatever you like and join me in the living room when you’re ready.”

Holly moved past him, not sure how she felt about a guy planning everything about what she’d wear or how she’d spend her evening. Part of her wanted to be annoyed. Wasn’t her controlling ex’s behavior the sticking point in their relationship?

But part of her found it kind of hot for a guy to take charge every now and then. Besides, it wasn’t like he was ordering her around. She knew without a doubt that if she’d declined the dress or the pajamas or the movie night, he would have backed down immediately. This take-charge side of Ben was what he’d hired her to help him tap into, right?

She slipped into the powder room he’d pointed to, amused by the notion that anyone could call it a “powder room.” It was the size of her living room, complete with a sitting area and massive granite counter lined with two ornate copper sinks. Behind her was a row of shopping bags lined up on a velvet-cushioned bench. She peeked into the first and found several pairs of fuzzy pajama bottoms in various sizes and colors. The next bag held a few pairs of Lululemon yoga pants and some cute tops with built-in shelf bras.

He really did think of everything, she mused as she peeled off her dress and unhooked her bra, grateful to be free of the constricting garment. Of course, she doubted Ben had really been the one to think of the importance of getting rid of an underwire at the end of the day. More likely it had been his secretary who came up with the idea, but still. Just knowing he had a hand in helping her free the girls was enough to leave her feeling downright grateful.

She chose a pair of pale gray, rabbit-soft pajama bottoms that turned out to be cashmere, and a yellow cami top with a lined shelf bra that promised enough support to keep her decent in mixed company, but enough softness to let her breathe easy. A drapey lavender cardigan and a pair of fuzzy blue slippers completed the ensemble, and she padded back out into the living room feeling more comfortable than she’d felt in a long time.

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