Isabella
Hell no. I don’t want coffee. I want to go home and bury my head in the sand for eternity. What was I thinking?
Shit, shit, shit.
I take my time showering and even more getting dressed but when I exit the locker room, he’s still there, leaning against the wall-sized mirror, looking all too sexy.
At least his shirt is back on but when his gaze meets mine, it’s mesmerizing. “We should talk.”
“No. I should be getting home—”
A vision of Jared and Maya flashes in my mind’s eye and I get teary-eyed. I’ll probably need a new mattress and to burn my sheets if I’m ever going to sleep in my apartment again.
Not understanding what’s going on inside my head, he tucks an index finger under my chin and moves a lock of hair behind my ear. “Hey, none of that. It was just a kiss.”
“Listen. I’m sorry, about everything. I, uh… I’m not usually like this. I had a really bad day. I should go.” I can’t do this. My kisses were all about being dumped and needing to know I’m still attractive.
This guy is too over-the-top to be my rebound. His fingers wrap around my upper arm and slightly touch the side of my breast. That kicks off all sorts of warning bells but still, I let him lead me out the door.
“I noticed a Starbucks around the corner… or are you a Dunkin’ kind of girl?”
What harm could come from a cup of coffee?
When he helps me with my coat, I notice he’s only wearing a thin leather jacket. “Starbucks is fine. Uh, but you’re not really dressed for the weather. Where’re you from?”
“LA.” In the hall, he taps the elevator’s down button and rests his arm over my shoulder as if I might bolt.
Damn if that doesn’t feel good so I lean in, and let him walk me out of the building.
“Hold on.” Once outside on the street, I stop at the local sidewalk vender and buy a red cap with a heart and mittens with the fingertips open. Then, I find a soft, matching scarf and wrap it around his neck.
When my fingers brush against his rough jaw, he holds my hand and I wonder if he’s thinking about those kisses. The spell is broken by another customer clearing their throat behind us.
I pull away from Mr. James Statten with a shy smile. “I can’t have the new HR guy freezing to death. What will Xavier say?”
“About him. How is he as a director?”
“Uh, he’s okay.”
“You damn him with faint praise.”
The guy quotes Shakespeare?
He steps around to the street side of the pavement. It’s a real old-fashioned move that I haven’t seen since leaving the Midwest. He’s making it really hard to hate him.
“How about I explain inside.” I wait until the little yellow man appears in the traffic signal, then cross the street.
He holds the door for me, we order a couple lattes, and find two open spots by the window. After placing our cups down, a complete gentleman, he pulls out my barstool. Then I sit and try to think of a way to say what needs to be said without sounding confrontational.
Finally, I give up. “Well, I’m pretty sure Xavier fucks any employee with two breasts and a clit.”
The HR guy’s handsome face gets red and dark brows crease. “What? He ever hit on you?”
“Me? Definitely not. I’m not his type.” I lean my boobs over his drink, touch his hand, and giggle. “Oh, Xavier, is there anything I can get for you? Oh Xavier, tee-hee, let’s work some overtime.”
“It’s that obvious?”
“My friend, Jeanine was onto him. I’m just betting that asshole fired her, didn’t he?”
His eyes shift to his coffee leaving me to wonder what he’s hiding but he’s quick to cover up. “I haven’t had a chance to review the files. I only just arrived this afternoon.”
“Yeah, about that. I’m sorry I threatened you. It’s just that my boss pisses me off. I like my job but wish women were treated more equally.”
“I tell you what. If you get me some proof, real proof, that you were treated unfairly, I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, I was sent here on a special project. Tom Patten wants a good technical lead to head this new kick-off. He needs someone strong, like you, to talk turkey with the government. I think you’d be perfect.”
This is just the kind of opportunity I’ve been looking for and a smile spreads over my face. “Sure. Send me the statement of work and I’ll look it over.”
“Awesome. Be ready to head to Houston in the morning. I’ll email you the tickets.”
What a weird day. I start out thinking I may get fired and then end up with a sweet project that most often would be led by Andy, Drew or any number of the guys, never me. Plus, I’ll get to design this thing I’ve been thinking about for years. The government guys will go nuts over it.
The snow is falling hard as we wait at the light and he raises a hand for a cab. One stops on the other side of the street and motions us across.
Being a native New Yorker, I look both ways when the light changes. James, however, walks blindly forward as a black sedan races to run the light.
Shit.
I take a flying leap, push him to the pavement, and we both end up horizontal on the sidewalk, inches from death.
Wet and shaken, he pulls me to standing. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’ll call the cops.” I pull out my cell phone, needing to see some kind of justice done but he presses my hand down.
“No, no. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t’ve stepped into the street.” He opens the waiting cab’s door and hands the cabbie a couple twenties through the open window. “See to it she gets home safe.”
Then, he leans in and gives me a little peck on the cheek. “Thanks for saving my life. See you tomorrow, Isabella.”
“Anytime, James.”