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out the shelf he’d reserved for fiction. Two lonely, dusty spy thrillers sat there, and he’d read both of them. Still, it had been a while. The odds were good he’d forgotten enough of the plot to still go along for the ride.
    He returned to the couch, one of the books in hand, and muted the TV. He settled down with his legs outstretched, a cushion behind his head. He opened the first page and started reading.
    He was intensely aware of the silence in the house, so much so that his own breathing sounded loud in his head. It hit him that this was the first time in months that he’d taken some time for himself, and even though he was ostensibly chilling out, there was still a voice in the back of his mind telling him he should check his email and go over another report.
    He set the book down on his belly and let his head drop back. Was it possible to lose the ability to relax? Because if so, he was there.
    He stared at the stain on the ceiling from where the roof had leaked and wondered what Audrey was doing tonight.
    “Idiot.”
    He stood abruptly, the book sliding to the floor.
    This little crush he was developing stopped now . No more self-indulgence. No more flirting with the possibilities.
    Even though it was dark outside, he changed into his running gear and hit the street. An hour later, he was drenched in sweat, his thigh muscles burning. Most importantly, his mind was blessedly clear.
    It would stay that way, too. He had the conference coming up, then a series of catalogs to plan for. Plus whatever drama Whitman would no doubt stir up.
    Then there was his mother.
    More than enough for one man to handle.
    * * *
    A UDREY ARRIVED AT work the next morning with a plan: to acknowledge Zach’s generosity in helping her with her car while simultaneously avoiding him as much as possible in the hope that they could both forget the clitoris thing. On the surface they were two agendas at odds with each other, but she was hoping she could swing it. She started her campaign by leaving a box of protein bars on his desk, complete with a breezy note. Thanks for your help yesterday and for the much-needed snack the other night. Both much appreciated. A.
    It had taken her a whole hour last night to compose those two sentences, and while she wasn’t entirely happy with them, she figured her note covered the first part of her plan. The second part—the avoidance part—would require more effort and vigilance. The merchandising department might employ in excess of thirty people, but it was essentially a fishbowl and they all swam around one another all day. There were multiple opportunities to run into Zach in the hall, in the staff room, at the printer, near the photocopier, so she needed to stay sharp and be quick on her feet.
    And spend a lot of time hiding in her office.
    A couple of days should do it, she figured. Long enough for her to stop blushing every time she remembered that moment in the bar, and hopefully long enough for him to forget what he’d overheard.
    All went well, avoidance-wise, until midafternoon when she arrived three minutes late for the weekly departmental meeting to find only one seat left. Right next to Zach, naturally.
    Well, shit .
    Shaking a mental fist at fate, she slid into the empty seat. Zach glanced at her briefly before focusing on Gary, who had the floor. Audrey flipped to a new page in her notebook, determined to get past this silly self-consciousness where he was concerned.
    So, she’d said something stupid and potentially revealing in front of the one colleague whom she really didn’t want to do any of the above with. It wasn’t the end of the world. Right?
    Right?
    Megan sat diagonally opposite, her eyes dancing with suppressed laughter. Audrey pressed her lips together, sure her friend was remembering last night.
    At least someone was getting something positive out of the situation. That was nice.
    Gary talked about the sales results for the first week of the current catalog, and she