I didn’t kiss Juliette like the idiot I am. I wanted to more than anything, and so many opportunities arose, but I didn’t take them. Moron! I walked her to her car, our hands so close we almost held them, and our stares lingered as she leaned against the door. I didn’t go in for the kiss. I should have, and I’ll regret it every day until I see her again. And then I’m kissing her. No excuses.

I stare down at my phone, her phone number popping back at me, a picture she let me take of her as her contact picture. When I added her contact info into my phone, I told her it prompted me for a picture. It didn’t. I wanted to have one. She posed silly, with her hands framing her face as though she were in that Madonna video, “Vogue.” I want to stare at the photo for hours. I can’t, though. As much as I’d love to make that my full-time job, I have an appointment today with a Mr. Thad Conners to discuss Abby and Audrey’s financial future.

One I’ll be providing them with.

I arrive at the building promptly at nine for our nine-fifteen meeting. I’ve seen this building downtown before but I’ve never been inside. It’s massive and modern, a look I prefer. Everything is sleek, right down to the mahogany service desk at the front to direct people to where they need to go. The name of the company seems familiar, too, Booker & Smith. Where have I heard that before? I shrug and approach the desk, a young woman probably fresh out of college standing behind it.

“May I help you?” Her voice explodes with enthusiasm, and I appreciate her work ethic. The person at the front desk should make clients feel welcome, and she’s doing that.

“Mr. Thad Conners,” I advise her. “I don’t recall what floor he is on.” I should have checked that information before I came. Deduct one point from my score for unpreparedness though I don’t know what I’m keeping score for.

I wait as she clicks the keys on her keyboard. How many steps are there to find a floor number? Finally, she puts her finger up in an aha moment as though she’d figured out what scoundrel was behind the mask in a Scooby Doo episode. “Sixteenth floor, suite 1605.”

After she buzzes me through, I join three businessmen in the elevator. They more than likely work here, but I can’t help but wonder if I should have opted for a suit instead of my dark jeans, orange V-neck, and bomber jacket. If not a suit, at least a button up shirt and tie. Oh well. Too late now. Besides, I’m paying this Thad Conners to help me out, not the other way around. Do I need to impress him?

All three exit the elevator a few floors before me. When I reach my floor, I step off the elevator into a general meeting space. There’s another woman behind a desk, a second check-in point. I approach and give her my name, along with the name of whom I’m to meet.

“Mr. Conners had to step out to an important meeting.”

“What?” I pull out my phone. No missed calls. “Why didn’t anyone bother to call me? I wouldn’t have driven in this snow had I known my meeting had been canceled.” Driving in the snow doesn’t bother me, but finding a parking space in one does. With all the winter restrictions it’s difficult to find a spot. And once the snow falls, the streets seem to shrink as it piles on.

“Your meeting isn’t canceled, Sir. You can see another one of our advisors. He asked Ms. Walsh to coach you today.”

Coach. That’s an interesting way to describe our meeting. I don’t know who Ms. Walsh is but I’ll see her. I’ve been putting this meeting off for far too long now. I take a seat on a cozy couch in the waiting room. I glance at the magazines but Women’s World and People don’t really catch my attention. The TV is playing A Christmas Story. On Christmas Eve, TBS shows the movie for twenty-four straight hours. I might as well get a head start now.

Ralphie is just about to shoot his eye out when a bouncy woman hops into the waiting room. “Landon Marquardt? You’re up.” She thumbs me over to her in a way I normally would consider unprofessional but something about the way she does it works for her.

“How are you today?” She makes small talk as we walk down a long hallway.

She’s hustling, and I have to pick up the pace to keep her stride. “Fine. I’m glad there was someone here to see me today. I found out when I got here Mr. Conners isn’t available.”

“Don’t worry about it. Juliette is wonderful.”

I stop walking. “Did you say Juliette?” No. It can’t be.

“I sure did.” The woman smiles at me. “She’s great. Trust me.”

That’s where I know the name of the firm from. Juliette works here. It went over my head when she mentioned it.

We reach an office with the name Juliette Walsh on a plaque outside the door. The woman knocks and enters. “Your 9:15 is here.” She widens the door for me to enter, and when I do, my thoughts are confirmed.

“Landon?” Juliette asks me as she stands from a seated position. She’s as surprised as I am.

“Hi. I guess I’m your 9:15,” I joke as I approach her. We stand awkwardly in front of each other, unsure if we should hug or kiss on the cheek or what. I was on a date with this woman last night, and now I’m in her office seeking financial guidance.

She pulls a chair out in front of her desk. “Here. Take a seat.” I sit down and watch her every move as she makes her way back to her side of the desk. Her long skirt barely brushes her calves, the fabric rounding every curve seamlessly. I want to bite my knuckles she looks so good.

“So, you’re here to discuss some financial opportunities.” She folds her hands on the desk as she straightens her posture. She takes this very seriously. As she should. This is her job. My mind is still wandering as she dives in, asking questions about my financial history and what I plan to accomplish. My mind is flooding with so many thoughts about last night. Doesn’t she want to discuss that first? A second date, perhaps?

“Um, yeah. My nieces, Abby and Audrey, well, as you know their mom is sick, and I want to make sure they are…” It’s hard to say the words, but I have to be strong to get through this. I can’t lose it in front of Juliette, much less at a business meeting. How effeminate would that look? “I want to make sure they are taken care of in case the worst happens.”

Juliette nods her head in agreement, knowing exactly what I am saying without me actually having to say it, which I’m grateful for. I never want it to come to this. Never. And I hope to God it doesn’t.

“I think you’re being very responsible for doing this.” She types something on her computer. “Not to mention an amazing brother and uncle.” She doesn’t make eye contact, and I’m not sure if it’s because she’s busy with whatever is on the computer screen or if she doesn’t want to look at me. “Let’s get to work and make a plan.”

This time her eyes meet mine and the energy shooting between us is no joke. It’s all I can handle to not jump across the table and crash my lips onto hers, pulling her close. I push the thought out of my mind, though, knowing the real reason I’m here.

Though she just gave me one more.