He’s wearing designer jeans in a soft, washed-out gray, a white T-shirt with a graffiti print that is slightly too neat on that body, a modern leather jacket, and his trademark shades. He doesn’t look like a guy who’s coming to the office for the day. I’m not sure I’m impressed despite how much it suits him, this bad boy biker style. It’s not exactly professional.

“Mr. Carrero … I mean Jake. Good morning.” Controlled Emma is back in play, despite the hair tickling my face and the breathlessness at his appearance and attire.

“You look really nice today, Emma.” He smiles, his gaze travelling over me from head to...