Rebound by Noelle August Read Free Book Online Page A

fine, I tell myself. We agreed it was just a one-time thing, a mistake. We’ll move on from here.
    An impeccably dressed guy rises from his desk and introduces himself as Paolo. He’s Philippe’s height, with bronze skin, gorgeous warm brown eyes, and a pocket square in tan and blue stripes that matches his shirt and no doubt wins him extra points with my best friend.
    “I’m Alison,” I say and extend a hand.
    “Ah, the big kahuna. Welcome.” He shakes my hand and then Philippe’s. “Let me take you to our fearless leader.”
    We follow him, and he introduces us to a few other employees—Pippa and Sadie, who I recognize as the pajama-clad girls from the party. Then a few others who barely glance up from their work to acknowledge us. They’re not rude, just intent on their work, which I take as a good sign.
    I turn from a quick handshake with one of the coding team, and find myself face-to-face with Adam.
    Only he’s not Adam from the party. He’s professional Adam, in a tailored dove-gray suit that looks sewn onto his body, the way my costume was sewn onto mine. Though it should be impossible, his clothes make him look even more impressive—and sexier—than when he dressed as Zorro.
    My face warms at the sight of him, and my body responds on its own, drawing me right back into that car. I see the tattoo of falling birds winding along his muscled arm, hear the sound of his laughter, and feel, once again, the urgency of his lips on mine. That’s the Adam I wanted to find here, I realize. Even though I know we can’t have that again.
    “Welcome to Boomerang,” he says, and his smile is all whiteteeth. Easy charm. “It’s good to . . .” He settles on “see you,” since he can’t pretend we’re meeting for the first time. But he doesn’t add, “Again.”
    “Thanks,” I say and hold out a hand. Part of me expects some kind of supersonic boom when we touch. But it’s just a handshake—firm and dry.
    We make introductions all around. When an employee distracts Adam for a moment, Philippe cuts me a look and mouths, “Oh my God. So hot.” I give him the evil eye, though of course I agree.
    Adam turns back to us. “I’m sorry things are a bit cramped. We’re in the middle of relocating the offices and had an opportunity to lease out the space downstairs. That’s making it a bit cozy here.”
    The word cozy makes me think of ski lodges, of snuggling under a blanket. And then I’m there, right there in that fantasy. I’m kissing his neck, smoothing my hands over his body to distract him from paperwork. We’re laughing, and his eyes are on mine, and it’s Adam from the car—open and warm.
    God, who am I?
    “No problem,” I say. “Are Simon Evans and Nancy Silvestri here yet?”
    “I believe so,” he says. “Cookie made the arrangements for your team.” He looks at Paolo. “Want to lead the way?”
    “Sure, boss.”
    Adam, Philippe, and I follow him down another short hall to a kitchen area, next to which sits a polished partners desk with sleek chairs rolled up to it and another much smaller desk, with a set of cheap folding chairs, now occupied by Nancy and Simon.
    The espresso machine burbles noisily. Stacks of supplies lean against a long center island not three feet away. And we’re right out in the open, where it will be impossible to speak confidentially. Or to avoid the foot traffic of two dozen employees microwaving burritos at lunch.
    Nancy and Simon look at me expectantly, their displeasure clear. They’re used to being treated a certain way. If I don’t take care of this, they’ll report back to my father. And I’ll be subject to another discussion about whether or not I have what it takes to be part of Quick Enterprises. Whether or not I have what it takes to lead.
    Everything I do here is a test, and I have to pass. No. I have to excel.
    “I’m sorry,” I tell Adam. “But this won’t work for us. Do you have a place that’s a little more private? With a lot more