Page 16 of Fierce-Jax
No, not true. He’d heard the sounds of her shoes clicking on the floor and walking toward him. Not super high heels but more like wedges. Her pants were black again; he had no idea what color her shirt was under her jacket.
“I have no doubt you would,” he said. “But my hope is not to have to see you in that capacity again.”
The elevator hit the sixth floor and the doors opened.
“You never know, we can just keep running into each other this way.”
“If we are both the early birds, that most likely will happen,” he said.
She stepped off with him and went to the door right in front of the elevator to his office.
“It’s locked,” she said.
“I’m the first one as always,” he said. “I need my keys, which are in the bag.”
“Oh,” she said, smiling. “Swap.”
“You sure?” he said. “They are heavy.”
“I’m carrying a four-year-old around all the time. She still thinks she’s a baby when she’s playing. Dozens of cookies are nothing.”
“You have a child?” he asked without missing a beat.
Guess she wasn’t flirting and was most likely in a relationship, though he’d looked and didn’t see any rings on her fingers.
“Gianna,” she said. “My daughter.”
“That’s a pretty name,” he said, fishing out the keys from the side of his bag and unlocking the door. He stuck them in his pocket and flung his bag on his shoulder again, then reached for the boxes.
“Thank you,” she said. “Do you have any kids?”
“Nope,” he said. “Not yet. Someday I hope to. Just got to find the right person for it.”
He wasn’t sure why he added that, but she flushed again and he figured maybe he overstepped.
“It’s not easy,” she said. “Trust me, I know that too.”
Her face was flushing more, but he didn’t know what that was about.
“Thanks for helping me bring everything up,” he said.
“Any time,” she said, turning and walking back to the elevator. He stood there for a minute and watched her through the glass doors.
She turned back to look at him and smiled, sent a little wave with it and he did the same.
The doors opened and one of his staff came out of the elevator. Rather than turn and walk into his office, he held the door and waited for Tamara.
“Morning, Jax,” Tamara said. “Did someone get off on the wrong floor this morning? I didn’t recognize that woman.”
Since they were the only occupants of this floor, Tamara would know. He wasn’t sure he wanted to admit who that was and how he knew her.
“She’s on another floor and helped me bring everything up when my bag fell off my arm. I had my hands filled.”
“That was nice of her,” Tamara said. “Did you try to pitch her for a job on the ride up?”
“No,” he said, laughing over that. His staff knew what he did.
“Too bad,” Tamara said. “She seemed nice and friendly. Classy. We need more class around here at times.”
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