Stand-In Saturday (Love For Days #2) - Kirsty Moseley Page 0,16
a cluster of people there, comprised of a security guard, a mechanic-looking guy, and a few random, curious staff.
Stepping to the side, I politely motion for Lucie to exit first.
She turns back to me and offers me a small smile. “I guess I’ll talk to you later then, Theo. Try not to get into any more trouble today.”
Her blush is endearing, and I can’t resist sending her a playful wink before I wave back at the lift doors and tell the waiting crowd, “Lift, zero stars, do not recommend.”
Behind me, as I walk away, Lucie laughs, and I feel it all the way to my toes.
five
Lucie
Theo walks off with all the confidence and swagger of Conor McGregor. The damn guy knows he’s hot. Meanwhile, I’m a hot mess.
I gulp in a few breaths and watch as he heads off up the corridor towards the conference rooms, raking a hand through his tousled brown hair. Around me, I don’t miss the fact that all of the girls—and even some of the guys—are also watching him walk away in his grey tailored suit and retro ThunderCats T-shirt. Not that I can blame them. The guy is gorgeous in every sense. He fills that suit to perfection with his tall, athletic frame, strong and broad shoulders, a tapered-in waist, and long legs. And that smile? Dazzling. The best part though: his eyes. They’re a light amber brown; it’s like staring into a glass of whiskey. They are mesmerising and twinkle with a zest for life that I’ve probably never had. He’s magnificent, and with his bone structure, he looks like he should be on the cover of GQ.
His photo would undoubtedly inspire me to purchase it.
Suddenly, I realise I don’t even know why he’s here. I didn’t ask him what his meeting with Patricia was for. He must be an agent or an author or perhaps a bookseller. My guess would be bookseller; he’s too well put-together for the shy, uncoordinated author types we get come in, and an agent looking to schmooze an editor would likely not wear a T-shirt and trainers. I don’t know anything about him other than his first name and the fact that he’s got an exceedingly sweet tooth and feelings for his brother’s fiancée.
I smooth down my skirt and lift my chin as people’s curious eyes swing back to me once he’s out of sight. Turning on my heel, I drop the empty coffee cups and the full cold ones we didn’t drink into the bin and head in the opposite direction, stalking towards my pokey office cubicle. I drop my bag onto my desk and flop down into my chair, taking a couple of deep breaths.
What just happened? What in the fresh hell just happened?
I’ve agreed to spend the weekend with someone I literally just met. It seems that, in the moment, I forgot every lecture about stranger danger my parents had ever instilled in me. Now that I’m free of the eight-foot-by-eight-foot steel cube we were confined in, I can see more clearly, and it hits me full force how utterly stupid his idea was. It’s like I was trapped in some sort of weird Lift Stockholm Syndrome situation where it made sense. Now? Not so much.
“Oh God.” I chuckle to myself and shake my head at the absurdity of it all.
As much as it sounded so easy and fun when he was saying it—and goodness knows I could totally use the downtime and a little sunshine—I can’t go on holiday with a guy I just met.
What on earth possessed me to agree to that?
I shake my head and lean forward, my stomach clenching. I can’t do it.
I’m no longer the fun-loving, free-spirited, impulsive girl I used to be when I was eighteen. Yes, pre-Lucas Lucie might have jumped on the Theo fun bus and ridden it all the way to Scotland, but post-Lucas, adult Lucie is more sensible, more mindful of other people’s opinions and perceptions. I can’t jet on out of here with a super-cute guy for a weekend of drinking and dancing … can I?
No.
No, I can’t.
I swallow a ball of regret. Part of me wants to go, throw caution to the wind and have an adventure, like he said. And the idea of him paying me back by coming to my dad’s retirement party is extremely tempting. The thought of making Lucas jealous appeals to my very soul. He deserves some hurt after what he put me through.