Neanderthal Seeks Human(85)

I justified my absence by insisting, to myself, that I needed to finish up the billing presentation which I hoped that ‘the Boss’ would adopt as new business practice for Guard Security. However, now that I knew I would be making my pitch to Quinn instead of some unknown entity, I was beginning to have second thoughts about the initiative. I’d discussed it with Quinn previously, on the day he’d met me at Smith’s deli, not knowing he would be making the decision regarding whether it moved forward.

I felt like I now needed to prove myself. I didn’t feel like my job was really mine, like I’d deserved it. The combined pressure of performing at the client meeting and proving I deserved to work at Cypher Systems along with the thought of seeing Quinn for the first time in a week, now as ‘the Boss’, caused my stomach to became like the hair trapped in bubblegum- heinous, untenable knots. I spent my time working tirelessly on the billing presentation, going home and losing myself in comic books until 1AM then waking up early to burying myself in work once more.

I didn’t know how I was going to face him. What would I say? What would he say? I had no roadmap for this situation. We’d held hands, we’d kissed, and I liked it. A lot.

On the Monday morning of the trip I was so exhausted Elizabeth had to shake me awake; she informed me that my alarm had been going off for seven minutes without me so much as reaching for the snooze button. I showered, braided my hair then twisted it into a bun on the crown of my head, and dressed in my black pants-suit in a haze.

At the last minute I decided to wear my glasses instead of contacts; I told myself this was because my hands were shaking too much to put them in. I went through my head-box-closet coping exercises several times in the taxi on the way to the airport, thankful to find myself almost detached by the time I arrived.

Steven met me at a prearranged spot with coffee, a blueberry scone, and a reassuring smile then guided me to the private airstrip, all the while telling me about a disastrous date from the weekend with a lawyer named Deloogle, at least, that’s how the name sounded. It seemed all his dates’ names rhymed with Google or Bing. It was not unusual for him to regale me with stories on Mondays regarding his weekend exploits. Typically the evenings always ended with some hysterical calamity.

I was so wrapped up in his story that I didn’t really notice where we were going. As we boarded the plane he handed my bag to an attendant and we took seats next to each other.

He reached the end of his story: “… and it was so disgusting I had to arrange for the carpet cleaners to come out and fix the spot on Sunday.” He shook his head, “That’s the last time I go out with someone who wears a live ferret as an accessory.”

I smiled and laughed then abruptly realized where I was. Since I hadn’t noticed my surroundings as I entered I didn’t know who else was already on board. The calm numb from before was pierced by a pang of awareness. We were seated near the front of the plane and I fought the urge to crane my head around to see the rest of the aircraft. Instead of attempting to discern the occupants I concentrated on the interior of the jet.

I had no comparison as I’d never traveled via private plane but I found my surroundings to be impressive; everything looked new and shiny. The seats were beige leather, the trim and carpet were navy and the bulkhead was lined with elaborate wood paneling. Seats were clustered in groups of four facing each other: two facing forward, two facing backward to, I assumed, facilitate conversation during the flight.

An attendant walked over to us; she was very pretty and, I guessed, in her mid-forties. She reminded me of the good humored flight attendants on Alliantsouth airlines who told jokes and winked at passengers.

“Can I get you two something to drink before we depart?”

I cleared my throat, “No thanks, I’m good. But- uh- do I have time to use the restroom before we leave?”

She nodded, “Sure do, hun. The head is at the back of the plane.” I smiled my thanks and stood to walk toward the back when I came face to face- or, rather- chest to chest with a solid man wall.

“Oh, sorry-“ I backed up a step and grabbed the seat to maintain my balance, my eyes automatically lifting to the face of the barrier.

I immediately regretted the movement when my gaze met that of Quinn McHotpants Sullivan’s.

By the power of Thor!





CHAPTER 17




His hands reached out to my upper arms, presumably to steady me, and we stood looking at each other for a long minute; me gaping, him steadily watching me with an impassive mask and fiery blue eyes. He was even more devastatingly and unfairly handsome than I remembered. It didn’t help that he was wearing a nicely, obviously custom, cut black suit and white shirt and a stunning blue silk tie.