Caroselli's Baby Chase by Michelle Celmer

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    “Thank you, Ms….” Even though the woman’s nameplate was in plain sight on her desk, it didn’t hurt to break the ice.
    “ Mrs . White,” she said, icicles dripping off each word.
    Ignoring her frosty introduction, Carrie smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. White. I’m Caroline Taylor, but everyone calls me Carrie.”
    “Ms. Taylor,” she said with a curt nod.
    This one would be a tough egg to crack, but Carrie would do it. She had a way of putting people at ease, winning them over. Look how well it had worked on Rob.
    A little too well.
    Only as she approached his office door was Carrie hit with a sudden and intense wave of apprehension. Which was silly given their history. Or maybe what she was really feeling was exhilaration. She could barely go five minutes without thinking of him, without recalling the way he touched her, how he looked tangled in the sheets, ripples of muscles under smooth, sweat-soaked skin.
    But it was over now and she would just have to learn to rein in her wandering thoughts.
    Steeling herself, she knocked sharply on the door, then let herself in, melting when she saw Rob sitting there, tapping away at his keyboard, a steaming cup of coffee beside him on his desk.
    “You asked to see me?” she said, catching the subtle scent of his aftershave, wishing she could run her hand over his smooth, freshly shaved cheek. Even though she couldn’t deny that the rasp of the dark, wiry stubble he’d woken up with this morning had been a turn-on.
    Without looking up, he nodded and said, “Be with you in just one second….”
    She stood waiting while he typed a bit more, manipulated the mouse for several seconds, frowned, then started typing again. All she could see was the back of the computer monitor, so she had no clue what he might be working on. Or if it even was work. For all she knew he could have been updating his status on Facebook, or corresponding with his online sweetheart. Even though he swore he didn’t have a girlfriend. Maybe this would be easier if he did.
    While she waited she gazed around his office, which she hadn’t really taken the time to notice the last time she was there. In her own defense, it was tough to concentrate on the decor when Rob’s hand was up her skirt.
    The room was neat, with an unmistakable masculine feel, but not so macho that she had the urge to stuff a wad of chewing tobacco in her cheek. The dark mahogany furniture gave the space a rich, professional feel, but a collection of family photos hanging on the wall and various live plants created a casual atmosphere.
    When Rob finally seemed satisfied with what he’d typed, he pushed the keyboard tray in, rose to his feet and greeted her with a very professional “Good morning.”
    “Sorry I wasn’t here sooner. The cab was late picking me up.” She waited for him to say something about how, if she’d accepted a ride from him, she wouldn’t be late.
    He didn’t. He just shrugged and said, “No problem.”
    “What’s on the agenda this morning?” she asked, eager to get to work, to keep her mind busy on other things.
    “We have a meeting in the conference room in five minutes.” He eyed the coat draped over her arm and the briefcase slung over her shoulder. “Why don’t I show you to your office first.”
    He led her down the hall toward the conference room, the scent of his aftershave intoxicating, the casual confidence in his movements mesmerizing. She imagined that once they were in her office he would close the door and pull her into his arms. He would kiss her and tell her that he couldn’t keep his hands off her, that he couldn’t live without her and that he would die if he couldn’t have her again.
    When they reached the end of the hall, he hung a left and gestured to the first office on the right-hand side. “Here it is.”
    Not only did he not pull her into his arms, but he also didn’t even step into the room with her. He waited in the hall while she