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Prince Ion.

“Do you mind tacking some of these up in the breakrooms at Acray-Sys? I’m trying to get rid of the few I’ve got left before the party.” Jessica plucked a stack of glossy postcards from her purse and handed them to Lucy.

They were promos for A Prince at Midnight. Lucy held up one of the cards, scanned the now-familiar book cover printed on the front, and flipped it over. The back advertised the release party Book of Love was hosting for the new title next Wednesday night. Jessica had told Lucy that new books usually hit the market on Tuesdays, but the publisher was timing this one to coincide with Halloween and encouraging retailers to stay open late and sell it at the stroke of midnight.Lucy glanced back toward the bookstore, where a group of women had gathered around the display window and were snapping selfies in front of Ion and Horatia. She had to admit, the whole thing seemed like a pretty clever marketing ploy.

As if reading her mind, Jessica said, “The tagline for the release date just could not be any better, right? I mean, ‘Get your copy of A Prince at Midnight—at midnight?’ It’s too perfect.”

Lucy smiled and tucked the cards into her tote bag. “I’ll put these up for you, no problem.”

“You’re awesome,” Jessica beamed. “The awesome-est, in fact.” Then, cocking her head, she peered at Lucy like a curious bird. “You’re still coming, right? To the party?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“And what about Aaron?”

“A-Aaron?” Lucy fidgeted with a button on her sweater. Suddenly she was nervous, just the mention of her boss’s name making her blood pump faster and her skin feel warmer.

Jessica sipped from her coffee, watching Lucy over the rim. “Uh, yeah, you know, the guy you can’t stop thinking about? Unless there’s someone else you’ve suddenly developed a massive crush on?”

“Could you keep it down, Jess? We’re not that far from the office. What if someone I work with were to walk by and hear you saying that?”

“Would it really be the end of the world?”

“It might be the end of my job. I do work for him, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re such a cliché, a secretary falling for her boss. Believe me, we’ve got whole aisles of stories like that back at the bookstore.” Jessica’s sarcasm was tempered by her good-natured smile.

Lucy had to chuckle, letting out a breath that stirred her bangs. “Hey, we’re called Executive Assistants, okay? Not secretaries. And it’s not like I wanted to be living out a trope in real life, but what choice did I have?”

Jessica took another quick sip of her latté. “Working for someone that hot? Not much,” she conceded. “Anyway, my point was:  are you inviting him to the party, or what? We’re going to have free food and champagne, fun games and cool door prizes. And I promise it isn’t only for romance nerds—every brand of geek is welcome to show up. I know if Aaron comes with you, he’ll have a great time.”

Lucy picked at the lid on her coffee, contemplating. “You have his email address. Can’t you just send him an invitation?”

“Well, I could, but I think it would be better if you asked him.”

“It’d be weird. He’d think I liked him.”

“You do like him.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want him to know that!”

“As if he doesn’t already?” At Lucy’s alarmed look, Jessica added, “Come on. I’ve seen you with him, remember? Do you honestly think he doesn’t notice the whole blushing and babbling thing? After eight months? Trust me, the jig is up.”

Lucy felt horrified embarrassment rise at this accusation, and she wanted to defend herself, but she knew it was true. She did blush and babble every time she was around Aaron. Ugh. He probably thought she was the biggest fool on the planet.

“And yet he keeps coming around to talk to you,” Jessica went on. “So he must not consider it a bad thing. If he were grossed out, he’d totally avoid you, right?”

“No,” Lucy groaned. “He can’t avoid me. I’m his assistant. He has to talk to me!”

Jessica tucked a lettuce leaf more securely into what was left of her sandwich, and then rolled the sandwich up in a paper napkin. “He could just call or message you from his desk anytime he needs something. He doesn’t have to walk out and talk to you every five minutes. He definitely doesn’t have to come and sit at your desk just to shoot the breeze the way you told me he does every single afternoon before he goes home.”

“He’s a big Professor Nosferus fan. That’s mostly what he likes to talk to me about.”

“He talks to you about everything. How else would I know so many random things about him? Like his favorite coffee, his favorite pizza, what gym he goes to, and the fact he runs the marathon every other year. I even know what size pants, shirts, and shoes the man wears, thanks to you buying almost all of his clothes for him. Let’s face it, you’re practically his wife already.”

“He’s a busy guy,” Lucy laughed. “He doesn’t always have time to shop for himself, so I put in the orders for him…Look, I’m sure most assistants know all that kind of stuff about their bosses. Don’t they?”

Jessica’s glance was shrewd. “But he doesn’t just talk to you about himself, does he? Or order you around? He wants to know about your life, too. You told me he asked all about your aunt while she was sick.”

Lucy’s heart hitched at the mention of her aunt. Her favorite extended relative, Aunt Genevieve was only fifty-eight years old when she’d discovered she was riddled with cancer. Four months ago, she’d started receiving palliative care at her home just outside Dallas, and Lucy had made several trips up there to visit her and her family. To say goodbye. Aaron had been incredibly understanding about Lucy’s need for extra time off, and he had always asked about Genevieve, seeming

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