“It’s Castle,” I explained simply, because no way was I going to explain why I really didn’t want to miss it.

“Is it that good?” he asked.

It was. But mostly it had Nathan Fillion. That was, it had tall, funny, talented, good-looking (did I mention funny? And tall?) Nathan Fillion.

My celebrity crush.

Do you feel me? No way I was going to share that.

I just said, “Yes.”

“Can you wait to watch it until tomorrow?” he asked.

I might be working a pole tomorrow.

I totally didn’t share that.

“Sure,” I said and took another bite of donut.

Ren studied me.

I swallowed, washed donut back with coffee and threw him a smile to throw him off track.

This failed.

“Are there any other TV shows you feel this way about?”

“Um…” I started, because there were.

Luckily most of them were cancelled, but unfortunately my collection of series DVDs had been incinerated in an apartment bomb.

I decided to answer, “The most important one is Castle.”

This was true. Mostly because that was the only one still airing that had Nathan Fillion in it.

I made a mental note to hit a computer and order Firefly from Amazon and ate my last bite of donut.

“Maybe I should ask you twenty questions,” he suggested on a mutter, balling up the donut bag and tossing it in a bin behind his desk.

“Shoot,” I invited.

He looked at me. “Tonight. Sexy dress. Heels. Champagne. And twenty questions.”

“You got it, babe,” I murmured then licked Bavarian cream residue from my fingers.

I finished this then found myself plastered against Ren where he went about tasting Bavarian cream on my tongue.

He tasted of cinnamon twist.

It was an awesome combination.

He lifted his head and whispered, “Let’s go see your new office.”

“Righteous,” I whispered back.

He gave me a squeeze then let me go, but grabbed my hand. We carried our coffees out of his office, down the hall and into reception.

However, he stopped us there, somewhat close to Dawn’s desk.

With a bright smile pinned on her lips, she looked up at him. “Anything you need, Ren?”

“We’re goin’ across the hall to check out Ally’s space.”

“Right,” she chirped.

“And one more thing,” he started, and she tipped her head to the side, eyes avoiding mine but glued to Ren, all ears.

Bitch.

“I’m livin’ with Ally, so obviously I will not take kindly to you bein’ rude to the woman who shares my home,” Ren stated. Her face froze and my body jerked in surprise. His hand tightened in mine and he kept going. “But just to say, no matter who walks through those doors, rudeness will not be tolerated. You can take that as a verbal warning. Next time, it’ll be written. Do you understand me?”

Her face was getting red, from embarrassment or anger, I had no clue.

I also didn’t care.

Inside my head, I was doing cartwheels while outside I was struggling with gloating.

Her voice sounded strangled when she replied, “Of course, Ren.” Her eyes came to me and she tried to cover by stating, “I’m sorry if something I said was misconstrued as rude, Ally.”

Misconstrued.

Hardly.

“Apology accepted, Dawn,” I replied magnanimously.

Ren was done and I knew this when he tugged me to the door.

But I was me. Ally. So I went with him.

But I also turned back and gave Dawn a huge smile. I lifted my coffee to my lips then out, making a smoochy face in a modified blowing of a kiss.

Dawn glared.

I grinned.

Ren pulled me through the door.

It closed behind us and he walked me to the door across the hall while muttering, “Was that necessary?”

“Totally,” I answered.

His eyes on the door, his lips quirked again then they stopped doing that and he whispered, “What the f**k?”

He pushed down the handle as I heard why he was asking that question.

There were voices coming from inside.

He opened the door, pulled us through and we both stopped and took in the activity.

Daisy was on hands and knees on the floor, arranging big carpet sample squares.

Shirleen was at a wall, taping up paint chips; or more accurately, taping up more paint chips to the dozens already taped there.

And then there were Buddy and Ralphie who’d joined our tribe during Sadie’s Rock Chick Ride. They were a g*y couple who clicked right in like they’d been there years. Ralphie was male-model gorgeous (but better groomed). Buddy was bald, African American and a nurse at Swedish Medical Center. They had a tape measure and they were measuring the floor.

“How’d you get in?” Ren asked instead of saying hello, and all eyes came to us.

“Did a stint in juvvie ‘cause of the skills I got to get us in,” Daisy answered.

I decided that I needed to discuss this with Daisy so she could teach me those skills, then she motioned to me.

“Good you’re here, sugar. I’m thinkin’ oatmeal. But I really like this gray. It says class to me. We want warm, but we want classy. We also want professional. It’s a difficult balance and the walls and carpet are the foundation so we gotta get it right.”

I looked down at her adjusting her carpet samples then I looked through the space and that feeling swept through me again. The good one. The excited one.

The happy one.

Two offices along the back, both with room-length windows to the outside, and both had windowed walls facing reception. The conference room down one side, also with a glass wall facing reception. An opened door sharing a wall with the outside hall and one with the conference room that I could see was a small kitchenette, which could take a little fridge and a coffee pot. It also had a small sink.

Perfect.

Utterly.

“Ally?” Daisy called.

“No oatmeal,” Shirleen said before I could answer Daisy. “Beige,” she stated, ripping off a paint chip with six shades of beige on it. “That’s the only thing that goes with oatmeal.” She tossed the paint chip over her shoulder and it fluttered to the floor. “Boring,” she went on and ripped another paint chip off, this one more shades of beige, sent it sailing and decreed. “No.” Again with the paint chips, one (beige again), two (greens), three (blues), four (grays), as she repeated, “No, no, no, no.”