Checking Every Box

CHAPTER ONE

* Heather *

I knew it was going to be a weird day when I was stuck on six across, “Four letter word for desire.” Tapping my pencil against the free newspaper on the subway, I realized it had been so long since I’d felt any desire at all. It couldn’t be “love” since the last letter was a T. Could it be “want”?

Dammit. I wanted to feel some spark, some desire. It had been far too long since I’d even considered it.

Yet now was not the right time. According to my life plan, I should start looking for a boyfriend next month, once I’d worked at my brother’s real estate brokerage for a full year. No distractions until I was settled. It was the only logical schedule, and I almost always stuck to my lists.

My older brother Joel had taken a chance by hiring me, and there was no way I would let him down. He knew that I was a good worker, but I was often a bit shy and skittish. Finally, after completing some administration courses, I found a way to hold myself together.

I just made lists, then checked off boxes. It was an incredibly simple concept, but somehow looking at everything in a tidy, linear format made me feel like I was in control. No matter how scattered or anxious I felt, once I saw everything in a row, I knew that I could handle it.

My schedule for finding a boyfriend could begin after I had a little financial stability, and could spend a bit more effort on my hair, my wardrobe, and going out to meet interesting men. Right now, my plain dresses and long, straight hair was a prim, quiet look that likely wouldn’t turn many heads.

Giving up on the crossword for now, I squished out of the subway with a crowd of people, and walked the block to the fancy blue glass building that held Highfield Real Estate Brokerage. Joel’s company was on the twenty-second floor, so I was glad I was running a few minutes early as I waited for the elevator.

I was accustomed to shuffling into the small space with a dozen people, but today everyone seemed a little extra aggressive. I found myself being shoved against a tall man in a perfect black suit. As I stumbled, I put my hands out to stop myself from falling, landing with my palms flat on his chest.

Instantly his arm slid around my waist, holding me. “Are you all right?” he asked. His voice was deep, but it was a gentle tone.

Looking up, I couldn’t believe that such deep blue eyes belonged to a man with such black hair and tan skin. “I’m fine, sorry,” I practically whispered. Snatching my hands away, I turned slightly so that we were shoulder to shoulder. Well, his was nearly a foot above mine.

“Everyone must be in a ferocious hurry today,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought we were all supposed to be mellow on Fridays.”

Looking up to smile back at his warm grin, I couldn’t believe how handsome he was. Tall, and wide through the shoulders with a sweet smile and piercing eyes. Although I hadn’t revised my list of most attractive qualities in a man lately, so far he was checking every box.

Feeling like I was blushing, I turned away quickly, slipping off the elevator and walking quickly to my desk. Pulling my phone and newspaper out of my bag, I set them down next to my water bottle, then turned to go to the coffee room. But there was a massive black suit in my way. He must have followed me straight off the elevator.

“Hello again,” he said. “I’m Steve Oxford, with a nine am appointment for Joel Highfield.”

Peering across the hall, I could see that my brother wasn’t in his office yet.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Oxford,” I said, channeling my best attempt at a confident tone. “Mr. Highfield had a breakfast meeting, but I’m sure he’s on his way in. If you don’t mind having a seat, I’d be happy to fetch you a coffee.”

“Lust.”

A shiver ran through me, as I realized that was indeed what I was feeling for this incredibly gorgeous man who was standing just a few inches too close to me. Could he sense it?

“Pardon me?” I whispered.

He pointed to my newspaper. “Six across. Four letter word for desire. Lust.” I breathed a sigh of relief, as he chuckled. “It seems like we both need a coffee. Let me help you.”

Despite my protests, he came with me to the break room, helping me put on a pot of coffee even though he was more in my way since he didn’t know where everything was kept. But he was quick to laugh, and very pleasant to stare at. The tiniest lilt of a British accent didn’t hurt either.

“How long have you been working here?” he asked as the coffee brewed.

“In three weeks it will be one year,” I said.

His thick eyebrows raised. “Very precise. I admire that.”

I reached up to the shelf to get mugs, but he stepped behind to reach right over me. “Allow me,” he said smoothly. “This is an important day, so I think we’ll need the larger mugs.”

He was a bit too close, a bit too friendly. It wasn’t inappropriate, it was just a little strange. I liked it, but I could not allow myself to get flustered.

One of the main rules of being a receptionist and assistant was to keep clients happy and comfortable. One way to do that was to keep them talking about themselves.

“Why is this an important day for you?” I asked, pulling both cream and milk from the fridge, but he waved it away.

“I’ve been searching for the perfect condo for several months, and Joel assures me that he has a few available that met every single one of my requirements.”

He poured our coffee, then flashed me a wink. “Feel free to call me fussy, but I actually had a very stringent list of criteria for my new home.”

Splashing just a little milk into my coffee I grinned. “Making a list is the perfect way to keep things in order. I have a list for nearly everything.”

He clinked his mug against mine, as I realized that having him so close to me in this tiny room was starting to do unusual things to my heart rate. “The more organized we are, the more efficient we are,” he stated. “That allows us to get our work done so that we can relax and enjoy our lives. Don’t you think?”