The Player

She looked so familiar. Being around her felt familiar, which was what shook me the most in the office.

“Brown eyes are pretty common.”

The thought of them together made an unsettling feeling develop in the pit of my stomach. Back away. Back the hell away.

“You have the loveliest eyes,” I said, leaning in a little closer when she walked back over.

Warren’s green eyes twinkled as if he noticed. I blinked and soldiered on with my argument.

I was trying to click my way out of the program when I saw her. A leggy woman with the most incredible olive complexion, and short, wavy dark hair.

She looked to be at least five foot five, with hips and an ass that would make any person’s mouth water.

“What do you suggest we do, Miss . . . ?” Warren asked, his gaze dead on mine.

He had a slight British accent