The woman's killing me. I'm not the kind of man who would normally consider blurring the lines between landlord and tenant or boss and employee, but Summer is a walking temptation—neurotic and obsessive when it comes to work, sure, but a damn cute temptation nevertheless. She's been a good tenant and an even better worker—plus she doesn't simper or throw herself at me like a lot of women who find out my net worth. I've grown fond of her, but if she drags me out of bed in the middle of the night to talk about work one more time... The man's a saint. Not only did Jason hire me for the greatest project I've ever run point on, but he also let me move into an amazing loft in his building as a job-relocation perk. Sure, he can be a grouch when I accidentally wake him up to go over the project, but he's been a fantastic boss and a surprisingly protective landlord. But...when did his shoulders get so wide? And why is that growling voice of his making me all weak in the knees lately?
