The little light changes from red to green. The lock beeps and then unlatches. I push open the glass doors into the reception area and tuck my ID card back into my purse.

It's disconcertingly quiet without the phones ringing and the low murmuring voices of the receptionists. But a distant rhythmic whir tells me that I'm not completely alone in the office. Someone from the janitorial staff is upstairs vacuuming the conference room.

I drop the stack of scripts onto my desk and put my bag down under it. The phone rings. I pick it up.

"Eric Goff's Office"

"Millie?"

"Who else would it be?"

"I'm outside by the elevators."

"I'll be there in a minute."

I kick off my flats, slip on my heels and then navigate the maze of workspaces and hallways again. Today isn't the first time that I'm reminded of a rat in a maze as I make the walk.

Back in reception, my shoes sound angry and loud, click-clacking against the marble floor. Light eyes and hair look up from his phone at me as I approach. He smiles with his perfectly straight, luminescent teeth.

There's my cheese.

He holds up two coffee cups in a tray. I smile back and wave the ID card. The door unlocks and I swing it open for him.

"Thanks so much for meeting me this early Millie."

He grips me in an unexpected embrace and I flush. My lips narrowly avoid his ear.

"It is my job after all Holden."

A breathy, nervous chuckle slips out of me. I continue to hold the door with one hand and let the other hang at my side. Then I reach up and pat him awkwardly. Now his lips are too close to my ear.

"Well you really didn't need to meet me at seven in the morning. Once again you go above and beyond for me."

"Anything for the commercial department golden boy."

This teasing banter is dangerous ground. I need to be careful and keep the tone light, just skimming the edge of flirting.

Holden laughs and he rumbles against my chest. My body responds and my nipples get hard. He only has a thin t-shirt on and I'm sure he knows what he's doing to me. But I'm trying to will it away. Finally, he lets go in order to follow me back to my desk, staying a few steps behind me as he is prone to do.

Of course I feel Holden's eyes on my ass and turn around to confirm it. He raises his eyebrows at me. I probably shouldn't have worn this tight pencil skirt today because I'm guessing Holden thinks it was for his sake. I shake my head and face forward again.

The file folder I set aside last night is waiting beside my computer when we arrive at my desk.

"Here are the contracts."

He puts down the coffee tray beside it and flips it open to scan the document.

His eyes come back up and travel across my blouse. "They look good to me."

The air conditioning is cold and after that hug, I know what he's looking at.  "They are."

I smirk and hand him a pen. "You know the drill Holden. Sign and initial."

He hands me a cup of coffee and takes the pen. Then he starts signing. Now the only sound in the silent office is the scratching signatures across the paper.

I sip the coffee. He has no idea how much I need this jolt of caffeine. Or the other jolt I need. But I swallow these thoughts like the liquid in my mouth.

"Eric has another audition for you later today. I already emailed you the material late yesterday. But I can print them out now for you... if you want."

Holden doesn't look up. "You know what I want Millie."

His voice is deep and rich and full. It's more beautiful than him if that's possible. But then again, I guess that's why he's signing this voiceover contract right now.

The combination of the frigid air conditioning, hot coffee and Holden's voice is taking effect. Goosebumps spread across my arms and there's heat between my legs. Holden's body is bent down as he leans on my desk over the papers. I'm trapped and feeling flushed. The only way I could escape my six-by-six workspace, would be to squeeze past his cross-fit toned ass.

Even though my body is betraying me and urging me to do it, my rational mind takes over I keep my feet planted firmly on the floor. Thankfully my professional demeanor is still stronger than my recreational desires.

"You're a hopeless flirt Holden."

He looks up from the papers at me and winks. "Only with you."

I know I'm just an acting exercise for him. He wants to see how many ways he can say the same lines. See how many things he can say that will make me blush. He turns back to the paper, adding his final flourish.

"If I had your number I could have met you for breakfast to sign these. We could be having cappuccino and croissants in a café right now instead of in your cubicle."

I put down the cup and look around. "I don't see any croissant."

He smiles and opens his backpack. Out comes a bakery box. I accept his proffered pastry and smile. He sits on my desk.

"While I'm flattered, Holden... truly I am... I need my job. And rule number one at the Robert Abraham Agency. Don't date the talent."

He shrugs. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

We finish our breakfast together while he tells me about the latest off Broadway show he's in. I take down his new rehearsal schedule so I know when he's booked out. Then I escort him back to the lobby.

Holden pushes the button for the elevator and digs into his backpack again.

"I almost forgot. Thanks for letting me borrow your book. Seems my prep work was wasted though. Word is they gave the part to some big name guy. Guess I'm striking out all over this week."

He hands me my well-worn copy of 'The Complete Dramatic Works of Samuel Beckett' as the elevator doors ding open.

"I'm sure you'll have better luck at your audition today."

"You're probably right. Anyway, back to the grind."

He gives me the smile I know he'll use with the station executives later, even though it's a voice job. We wave to each other as the doors slide closed.

I look down at the book in my hands and flip the pages to find 'Endgame.'

As I walk back to my department, it occurs to me that flirting with Holden is a bit like playing chess. I wonder how many times he has made me retreat to save myself. He has no idea how much he has tempted me this morning though. How he almost made me call out "checkmate" and give him my personal number.

Holden is gorgeous and sweet. He's smart and driven. And if anyone knows how hard he works, hustling to make a decent living as a working actor, it's me. Eric and I have helped him make a ton of money from voiceover work: books on tape, national network commercials, interstitials, awards shows and movie trailers. And while Holden is successful, it's without tons of the other bullshit, the PR, paparazzi, and gossip columns involved in the business.

Plus, it's been far too long since I've gotten laid.

I plop down in my desk chair and drop my book on top of the stack of scripts. For a minute I indulge in picturing Holden bending over my desk again. But this time I'm under him with my pencil skirt hiked up around my hips. It's definitely tempting. He's practically perfect in every way, but particularly prohibited in a very important one. I sigh and rub my legs together.

My friends applaud my restraint. Two years of working with Holden and seven – no wait, correction – eight months into a dry spell has left me horny as hell though. This is the kind of thing that gets more difficult over time, not easier.

I prop my feet on the desk, cross my legs and take the first script from the stack. I may as well use the next hour and a half before anyone else comes in to slog through some more of the slush pile.