Holding Out For a Hero

“Did you get everything?” he asked before I could figure out why his face teased my uncooperative memory. He dropped his gaze to inspect the sidewalk at our feet. He was so delicious, I stared in wide-eyed fascination until his attention rose to me again.

I did a hasty scan of the cement and immediately declared, “Looks like it.”

“Again, I’m sorry. Please let me buy you another coffee.”

“Oh, that’s….no, I don’t have time.” I shook my head and broke eye contact before all my common sense flew off to La La Land. Too bad I couldn’t retain some poise and enjoy the view. “I’m already late.”

“Then I’ll deliver it—where do you work?”

“Um…” What? Was he serious? No one was that nice in this city. “You don’t have to do that.”

“No one should have to go without their caffeine in the morning.”

“We have some at the office.”

“But I’ll bet it’s not half as good.”

His charming, crooked grin made those blue eyes twinkle. He was absolutely right, our office coffee couldn’t hold a candle to the spilled taste buds party darkening the sidewalk at our feet.

I opened my mouth to tell him my floor and office number when someone else in a hurry jostled me from behind. Just the reminder I needed—I was digging myself deeper by the minute. If some miracle put Mr. Walker in a good mood this morning, then it’d go ‘poof’ the moment he saw me mooning over some guy delivering coffee to my desk.

Yes, I’d moon over the man. If he actually showed up. But he probably wouldn’t, so no sense setting myself up to cry over spilled Chai later. I forced a stiff smile and cursed my miserable luck this morning.

“Really, it’s not necessary. I really have to go.”

Really. Before I said really again.

I brushed past him, past a gentleman who held open the door of a cab for the woman whose was stolen moments earlier, and glanced at my watch as I headed for my office building. Mr. Walker would not be happy with me. We’d just had a talk last month about my habitual tardiness. Well, he’d yelled, I’d cringed. Right now the words, “This is your last warning, Kelsie,” echoed relentlessly in my head.

It hadn’t mattered to him that I routinely brought work home with me, so I knew it wouldn’t matter that I’d succeeded in being on time every single day since then, and it certainly wouldn’t matter my valid reason for being late today. Unless…my heart leapt with hope. He’d had a morning meeting scheduled, I just couldn’t remember for sure if it was today or tomorrow. I prayed for today.

A co-worker breezed into the building ahead of me, rudely ignoring the universal courtesy of holding the door for the person b

ehind her. With everything that’d happened, unfortunately I forgot the door had a heck of a rebound, and my reflex grab resulted in two broken nails. Lovely.

God, please, don’t let this be one of those days. In the middle of my low frustrated groan, someone reached past me for the door.

“I am very sorry about what happened.”

German Chocolate Cake Voice. Seriously, it’s like he just poured the warm batter all over me. He stood close enough that his chest brushed my back. A delicious shiver ran up my spine and tingles erupted from his overwhelming male magnetism. I barely kept myself from leaning against him by digging my jagged nails into my palm.

“Forget it,” I murmured. His spicy, enticing scent enveloped me, making me long for a pen and paper so I could close my eyes and put the experience in writing. I took a deep savoring breath… and realized he held the door open for me.

“Oh, thank you.” Ducking my chin in embarrassment, I made myself leave his magical presence. It was all just so strange; I never acted like this. Yes, I am single, but happily so, and by my own choice. I wasn’t even looking at the moment.

After the door closed behind me, I had a sudden compelling urge to congratulate him on becoming an uncle. Spinning around, I collided with someone else entering the building.

“Watch it,” the man grumbled.

My turn to apologize…and my guy had already disappeared. Served me right, I guess. I wasn’t exactly friendly to him. I mentally kicked myself a good one and joined the crowd bee-lining for the elevator doors. The ride proved an exercise in patience as it stopped at every…single…floor. Eventually I arrived on seventeen and pushed through the other passengers, only ten minutes late.

When I arrived at my cluttered desk, the sight of Mr. Walker’s empty office brought a wave of such dizzying relief I had to sit in my chair before my wobbly knees gave out. Amazing. My luck was still somewhat intact.

Should’ve known I spoke too soon. All before ten a.m., I managed to rip another nail, run my nylons, jam the copier, stub my toe kicking said copier, accidentally delete a press-release I’d spent twenty minutes composing, and lose one of my favorite earrings.

Then Mr. Walker’s press-secretary arrived and dumped a stack of poll research folders on my desk, to be reviewed and cataloged by the end of the day. I took a fortifying breath and rubbed my temples because, yes, obviously, this was one of those days. No getting around it.

“Excuse me?”