Chapter 4 : Kyle''s Dilemma

Kyle Wright was stuck in a hell of his own making. It was eight at night, and he was still at his office, chin propped on his fist like some lovesick teenager.

Three days. Three fucking days, and he couldn''t get that girl out of his head – the one who''d kissed him out of nowhere. He slammed his hand on the desk. "Fuck!"

Here he was, drowning in work, and some random chick he didn''t even know kept hijacking his brain. How the hell did one kiss mess him up this bad? What was so damn special about her anyway?

He switched positions, leaning on his other hand, trying to shake off the fog in his head.

Back in college, doctors had slapped him with a fancy label: selective erectile dysfunction. When his mom figured out he''d never dated anyone – hell, never even wanted to – and that certain parts of his anatomy had basically been on permanent vacation, his parents dragged him through every medical test in the book.

Yeah, the great Kyle Wright had never gotten hard. Not once that he could remember. His parents swore he''d had normal reactions as a kid, but as far as Kyle was concerned, that part of him had been dead to the world. Until three nights ago, when some woman in a sapphire dress planted one on him and suddenly everything came roaring to life.

Maybe the doctors had been wrong from the start. Maybe there wasn''t anything broken about him after all.

Truth was, the medical experts never found jack shit wrong with him. Kyle was healthy as they come. His complete lack of sexual response had them all scratching their heads.

Sure, they''d thrown pills at him – Viagra, the works – but here''s the thing: you gotta actually want something before the meds can help. And Kyle had never wanted anything. Or anyone.

Hell, his sister had even dragged him to a lingerie show last month. You''d think a room full of gorgeous women in next to nothing would do something, right?

Nope. Nothing. Zilch.

All those stunning models practically throwing themselves at him from the runway, and Kyle felt absolutely nothing. Worse than nothing – their flirty smiles actually turned his stomach.

So here he was, same old problem as always. Except now he''d had one moment of actually functioning like a normal guy, and it was driving him insane trying to figure out why.

A knock on the door snapped him out of his spiral.

His assistant Mark poked his head in. Kyle glanced at his watch and sighed. "It''s getting late, Mark. You can head out – I''ll wrap up here."

Guilt hit him. He''d been sitting here for over an hour obsessing about some mystery woman while Mark waited around for him to get his shit together.

"Actually, Mr. Wright..." Mark stepped closer and dropped a thick folder on Kyle''s desk. "I took the liberty of tracking down information on the woman who kissed you the other night. Her name''s Gabrielle Taylor."

He tapped the folder with obvious pride. "Everything you need to know about her is right here."

Seeing Kyle''s confused expression, Mark rushed to explain. "I figured you seemed pretty distracted by her, and knowing how busy you are, you probably wouldn''t have time to look into it yourself."

Mark''s confidence was practically radiating off him. "She''s currently unemployed, and I was thinking – we''ve been having issues with the staff at your penthouse. Why not hire her? Sure, she doesn''t have experience in that field, but—"

"What makes you think I want to know about her?"

Kyle''s voice could''ve frozen hell over. His face hardened. "Distracted? Where the hell did you get that idea, Mark? I''ve been dealing with a shitload of work, including family business."

Mark''s face went white. He was second-guessing himself now, but damn it, he''d worked for Kyle for years. He knew when his boss was thrown off his game, and that woman in the blue dress had definitely done it.

His heart hammering, Mark bowed his head. "Forgive me, Mr. Wright. I assumed wrong. It won''t happen again."

"You''re damn right it won''t!" Kyle shot to his feet. "I''m not interested in that girl, and I''m not interested in any other woman! You understand me? I''ve got a company to run, thousands of people depending on me for their paychecks! I don''t have time to waste on women!"

He slammed his fist on the desk for emphasis. "Get that through your thick skull, Mark!"

"Yes, sir! Absolutely, sir!" Mark was practically bowing to the floor. "I swear it won''t happen again."

"Now get out of here before I decide to fire your ass. Be here at seven sharp tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, sir. I''ll leave right now." Mark reached for the file on Kyle''s desk, but the second his fingers touched it, Kyle''s voice cracked like a whip.

"What the hell do you think you''re doing?"

Kyle''s stare could''ve burned holes through steel.

"I was just going to throw the file away, sir," Mark stammered.

Mark felt his throat go dry as Kyle''s frown deepened. His boss''s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Do you think I''m incapable of throwing away my own trash? Are you making assumptions about what I can and can''t handle?"

"No, sir! Absolutely not!" Mark threw his hands up in surrender. "Sorry again, Mr. Wright. I''m leaving now."

Mark was out the door in record time.

Kyle dropped back into his chair, staring at the folder like it might bite him.

Once he was sure Mark was gone, he grabbed the file and opened it.

*Name: Gabrielle Taylor*

*Age: 24*

"Media studies at Braeton University on a full academic scholarship," he read quietly. Despite her age, she was still working on her degree – hadn''t even finished a semester yet.

Flipping through the pages, he pieced together her story. She was juggling work and school, clearly taking fewer classes so she could make ends meet.

Kyle was getting a clearer picture of why Gabrielle had deliberately lightened her course load to earn money when—

The door burst open.

"Mr. Wright, your college professor called and said—" Mark froze, watching his boss frantically scatter Gabrielle Taylor''s papers across the floor.

Mark''s eyes ping-ponged between the scattered documents and Kyle''s face.

"I was... throwing it away!" Kyle announced, like that explained everything.

Mark knew better than to question it. "Right. Of course, Mr. Wright. Anyway, your college professor called asking for a favor. He wants you to call him back."

"Got it. I''ll call him. Thanks, Mark. You can go now." Kyle was doing his best to look completely uninterested.

"Thank you, Mr. Wright." Mark glanced at the papers on the floor. "Want me to clean that up for you, sir?"

The death glare he got in response made him immediately backtrack. "Or not." He started to leave, then turned back with what he thought was helpful advice. "Sir, just in case you forgot... your trash can is right under your desk."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees. Kyle''s eyes were drilling holes through him.

"Do you want to get fired?! Get out!"

That was all the encouragement Mark needed to sprint for the exit.