He smiles down at me, and it feels like the temperature just rose ten degrees.
“I’m Nash.”
“I’m Magnolia.”
“That’s a nice name,” he tells me.
“Thanks. My mom has a thing for trees.”
A whoop of a siren breaks our staring contest.
“We really need to get to the front of the building, so they don’t go in looking for us,” he urges me.
I shake my head as I realize I’m ogling this man’s eyes and hoping to use their exact shade to sell bourbon.
“Right. To the front we go. Thanks for catching me up there.”
Nash shrugs and holds out his hand to help me stand straight. “Really, it was my fault. I should have been paying attention to the doors.”
I grasp the front of my shirt and pull it away from my body. “I’ll tell you what. I’m never skipping leg day at the gym again.”
He smirks and leads the way around to the front of the building. “They seemed to get you down those stairs just fine. And they didn’t stop your smart mouth.”
Following behind, I stare at his back and realize that those fantastic blue eyes belong to the most amusing man I’ve ever met.
CHAPTER 3
Magnolia
We’re still holdinghands as we hurry around to the front of the building.
I don’t know if I reached for him or he reached for me, but we’re hand-holding buddies now.
It’s crisp outside today, and normally, I’d regret not having a big coat, but the cold air feels good after all those stairs. It’s early fall, so the weather can be a real toss-up.
There’s a confused crowd gathered in front—everyone has forgotten the emergency gathering point at the end of the small VIP parking lot. Fire trucks sit parked in the center of the street, and several police cars are blocking the parking lot exits.
Apparently, it’s a slow day in Bend, Oregon.
Isabel spots me and frantically waves for me over the crowd.
“I see someone I need to check on,” I tell Nash, even though it’s the last thing I want to do.
He releases my hand, and I make my way through the group of disgruntled employees. It’s a jumble of voicesand comments. ‘Were you smoking in the bathroom again, Steve?’ ‘My feet will never recover from those stairs.’ ‘Do we get to go home now?’ ‘We made it out in the elevator.’
I shake my head. I’d be jealous of the ones who came down in the elevator, except my exit was a lot more entertaining.
Isabel folds her arms across her chest and taps her foot. “Do you have them?” she asks, not bothering to ask about me.
I pat the manila folder. “Right here. Here you go,” I say as I hold them out to her.
Isabel unfolds her arms and holds her hands up, refusing to take them. “No, I’m too stressed right now to keep track of them. Keep them safe until we can return to the office.”
“Of course,” I say slowly as I watch her wring her hands together. “But wouldn’t you want to take?—”
“No. I already told you I can’t handle it right now. What do you think I’m paying you for?” she scoffs. “Oh, and, Magnolia?”
“Yes?”
