Just as my anxiety gets the better of me, a voice carries across the room. I jolt, sure I’m imagining things.
“...Well, tell Preston it has to wait until the tenth…no, it’s not up for debate…”
The door to one of the glass-walled offices is open. My eyes lock on it, my body driven to get closer to that voice. And then I see him.
He’s holding a phone to his ear, jaw clenched, leaning one hand on a huge desk in the center of the office. His suit is navy blue, his dark hair swept back in a short, neat style, and his eyes narrow on a large computer screen.
My breath hitches, and my hands begin to tremble. It can’t be…but it is.
Sean.
6
SEAN
“Well, tell Preston it has to wait until the tenth,” I snap down the phone, fingers digging into the dark wood of my desk.
This is not the call I need to be dealing with at nine in the morning. I glance at the time at the bottom of my computer screen. Christ, not even nine in the morning. There’s no amount of coffee in the world that can save me from a weekend of no sleep, a stress headache, and having to listen to the obnoxious demands of a man over the phone that absolutely could’ve been a fucking email.
“No, it’s not up for debate,” I argue with the man on the other side of the line. I have half a mind to hang up on him and deal with the consequences later. Instead, I muster up a modicum of professionalism and say, “Look, I have a nine a.m. appointment I can’t miss. Sort it out.”
I hang up, drop my phone back to my desk, and hang my head.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself, gritting my teeth so hard my jaw aches.
The time at the bottom of my screen reads one minute past nine. I groan. The last thing I want to do now is act pleasant and welcoming to the new secretary I need to train. I’m in no mood to be patient enough to show her around and walk her through everything step-by-step, but there’s no choice.
God, I can’t wait for this day to be over. This whole week, really. At least on Friday night, I can drag myself down to the bar in the hope of seeing Savannah again. I refuse to even contemplate the idea of never seeing her again. I can feel it in my very bones—she’s meant to be mine.
I sigh, forcing myself to stand up straight and adjust my suit jacket and tie. I can at least try to make a good first impression. After all, we need this new hire to stay. I don’t have the time or energy to go through a hundred interviews again. I don’t even have time to stand here like an idiot debating the state of my life.
I scrub a hand across my jaw as I stride out of my office. The other employees offer me tight smiles and nods, clearly sensing my shit mood and giving me a wide berth. Any other day, I’d apologize for my attitude and try to put them at ease, but I don’t have it in me today. I’ll make it up to them with a catered lunch or something. It’s hard for people to be mad when they’re eating free donuts.
Paul, the Smith to my Sullivan, had been the one to hire this new secretary, so I’ve never met or even spoken to the new hire. I was supposed to read over her CV this weekend, but instead, I spent the entire two days unable to focus on a damn thing because the girl from the bar took up every one of my brain cells.
So now, I have to go greet this secretary without even knowing her name. Real fucking professional of me. Christ, I’m going to be lucky if she doesn’t just turn around and leave within five minutes.
I’m halfway to the entryway the new girl should be waiting in when I look up.
Jesus.
All the air leaves my lungs in a rush. I feel like I’ve been electrocuted. Frozen, sparks shooting through my veins, mouth dropping open, and eyes going wide. Undoubtedly, I look like a fucking fool, but I can’t move. My gaze is locked on the woman waiting at the front of the office. Her blonde hair is swept into a sleek bun rather than falling around her face in soft waves, beautiful blue eyes framed by long lashes, full lips parted.
“Savannah.”
She looks just as edible in her black skirt that stops just above her knees and a silky white blouse as she did in that skin-tight pink dress on Friday. Hell, she’d look gorgeous in a paper bag. The shock wears off, and I rush towards her, needing to close the distance between us.
“Savannah,” I say again when I reach her, wrapping an arm around her waist on instinct. I need to touch her, to convince myself she’s actually here. “Am I hallucinating or are you actually here in my office? Because given how much time I’ve spent thinking about you the last two days, I’m not going to lie, I’m convinced my brain has conjured you up.”
She laughs, smiling, but it’s clear she’s nervous. She shuffles her feet, stepping away from my hold on her and putting space between us. My stomach drops.
“I’m real. I’m here,” she says, chewing her lip. “I…I didn’t realize you worked here.”
I clear my throat, shoving my hands in my pockets to stop them from reaching for her again. “I’m Sean Sullivan,” I re-introduce myself, scrambling for some professionalism. “This is my company.”
“Oh my god,” Savannah whispers, blue eyes wide. “So…that means…”
I realize it at the same time she does. It feels like the floor falls out from under us, my heart in my mouth, my head spinning so fast I feel dizzy.
