The ridiculous girl was intoxicated. He waited for the annoyance, but felt only…protectiveness.
Still, he glanced around for the doorman, who was paid handsomely to deal with such situations. But there was nobody on the sidewalk but Georgiana and himself.
She took another step, another wobble. Not quite stumbling, just a little unsteady, like a foal taking its first steps. Andrew figured the chances of her making it across the slick pavement and the slick marble of their building’s foyer without tumbling were about fifty-fifty. Her gait was pathetically slow, and the rain was coming harder, plastering the short, bright blue dress to slim curves.
He moved toward her before he could rethink it. She glanced up as he approached, wide brown eyes blinking up at him through wet, spiky lashes.
He expected some sort of slurred put-down, but instead she gave a dismayed sigh. “I’m late. I thought I was early, but I’m late.”
“What?” Andrew asked irritably as he held the umbrella over her. He started to walk toward the building, but she’d skidded to a halt, apparently trying to dig something out of her purse. “Where’s my phone? I need to see what time it is.”
He rolled his eyes and glanced at his watch. “It’s four forty-seven.”
Her nose scrunched. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” he said, carefully hiding a smile.
“How?”
“Because I know how to tell time, and because I’m now late.”
“You’re not late. You’re early. You’re not even supposed to be at the front desk for another…” She counted on her fingers. “Thirteen minutes.”
“Will you please just get inside so I can get to work?” he said with more irritation in his tone than he actually felt.
Her smile faded as though he’d hurt her feelings, and he opened his mouth to say…what? He never knew what to say around her.
“Oh, for God’s sake.” He snatched her clutch out of her hand, placed it on top of the donut box, and then shoved his travel mug at her. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and half pushed, half dragged her the remaining few steps toward the front door, holding the umbrella over both of them.
The revolving door seemed too complicated in her current state, so he dug his key fob out of his pocket and used the side door, pulling the umbrella closed before ushering her into the lobby.
Georgiana seemed uncharacteristically agreeable. He glanced down warily, thinking of how determined she usually seemed to be as difficult as possible.
He cursed under his breath. She was drinking his breakfast.
Andrew jerked the mug back out of her hands, his eyes reluctantly locked on the way the tip of her tongue flicked across her top lip. “That tastes better than I expected. Like cold hot chocolate.”
“Try it again sometime when your body’s not starved for nutrients after too much vodka.”
Georgiana sighed heavily. “You’re right. I remember now why I don’t do this sort of thing anymore.”
“Why’d you do it now?” he asked, trying to keep his eyes on hers, and not on the way the cold rainwater had made her nipples tighten beneath the slip of a dress.
She sighed again, and this time the sound was sad. “You’ll say I’m ridiculous.”
His lips twitched. “Probably.”
Georgiana looked back up at him, her eyes wide and guileless. “I was sad. Dumb, right? Trying to drown sadness in shots?”
“Why were you sad?” he asked quietly.
Damn it, what was he doing? Why was he letting this mess of a creature put him more behind schedule by the minute?
She’d opened the donut box, although she shut it again without taking one out. “It’s my parents. I wish they were…I wish we were more of a family. A different kind of family, I guess I should say.”
Please don’t cry, please don’t cry.
He watched as she bowed her head, wondering what the hell he was supposed to say. She couldn’t have picked a worse shoulder to cry on. Sure, he knew how to make sympathetic noises when his more heartbroken clients bemoaned their ex’s infidelity or inattentiveness, but he never really knew what to say when it mattered.