“You’re okay. Marshall, can you eat almonds?” Troy asked Marshall.
“Yeah.” Marshall accepted the half a sandwich I’d unwrapped for him.
“Try eating that then,” Troy urged. “The crew should be to you shortly. I’ll stay on the line as well.”
“Thank you for the sandwich,” Marshall said as he took delicate bites. “Your dad is a good cook.”
“He is. He was a stay-at-home dad for all of us kids after we were adopted, and even now that I have my own apartment, he keeps me in bread and jam.”
“My head might be foggy, but I don’t understand why you lied.” Marshall frowned around his next bite.
“I like you,” I said softly.
“You don’t know me.” He made a throat-clearing noise, so I fetched my water bottle from my bag and offered it to him.
“I’d like to,” I countered. “And I know enough. You’re dedicated to your job. You come in early and stay late, and everyone says you go above and beyond. You’re thoughtful with good ideas. When you talk, people listen. The fact that we both work here and love our jobs points to similar values.”
“The fact that we work together points to potential headaches and heartbreaks.” Marshall scowled, apparently unmoved by my list of compliments. “I don’t date coworkers.”
“How about friends?” I’d been prepared for his rejection, but I had a backup plan of letting him get to know me more, maybe acquire a taste for short, ginger, and stocky. “We could go to the event as friends.”
“Rory…” Marshall groaned, undoubtedly seeing right through my paper-thin plan. “I dated someone in law school.”
“I might have heard about that.” My tone turned cagey. “But just because one dating experience went bad doesn’t mean they all will. I’m twenty-eight. I’ve had my share of dating fails.”
And then some, but he didn’t need the lengthy list of all my disastrous attempts at finding Mr. Right.
“My last fail is how I ended up in the family law clinic.” Marshall’s voice was decidedly stronger now that he’d eaten most of my sandwich. “I was supposed to work with Hayden in the small business clinic, but the breakup was a bit…dramatic. And I ended up needing a different clinic at the last minute.”
“Sounds to me like the wrong guy led to the right situation for you. You said yourself that you’re passionate about this work. That’s not going to change.”
“No.” Marshall took another sip of my water bottle. “But it would be highly awkward if we dated and worked together.”
The regret in his tone gave me renewed hope, so I grinned. “That’s not the same as you saying you’re not interested.”
“Rory.” His energetic groan said the sandwich was working. “You know you’re cute, friendly, and funny. I could go on, but I’d have to be a turnip to be uninterested.
“Oh, please do go on.” I was positively beaming at this point. “Not everyone would agree. I get friend-zoned a lot. My game on the apps is shit, and my game in person at bars or clubs is even worse.”
“Then stop playing games.” He rolled his eyes like it was that easy to find someone to get serious with.
“I’m trying.” I gave him the most pointed of looks, holding his gaze until he let out a loud huff.
“What if we date and it goes badly?”
“What if it goes well?” I countered with every ounce of optimism I possessed. “What if this is the last first date either of us goes on?”
I ended on a passionate note right in time for a knock to sound above us, seconds before a hatch in the elevator ceiling opened.
“Coming in.” An older medic, maybe in his mid-forties, lowered himself into the elevator on a harness attached to climbing ropes with a medical bag on his back. “Hi. I’m Eric, and I’m a paramedic. Which of you has diabetes?”
“Me.” Marshall held up his phone. “Usually, I stay stable with my continuous monitor and insulin pump, but I can’t get a reading on the app, and something’s felt off all day. I thought it was simply nerves for a court appearance, but now I’m wondering if my meds are working. Sandwich helped though.”
“Excellent.” Eric was already busy checking Marshall’s vital signs, like oxygen and blood pressure, working quickly with efficient movements. “The firefighters are working on coastingthe elevator to the next floor. If they can’t, we’ll take you both out through the hatch.”
I frowned up at the ceiling. Unlike Eric and Marshall, I was the opposite of lean and lanky. “I won’t fit. But you can take Marshall now. I’ll wait.”
“You will not.” Marshall made an indignant noise. “Besides, I’m fine now.”
