had plans to bring back the homing pigeons.”
“These guys won’t even fly to their food bowl, so if that was the plan, it failed. Big time.”
“Shame. It could’ve been new competition for Twitter. Cooer.”
“Booooo,” I jeered, shaking my head.
I hoped I’d made enough small talk and could leave without it being a thing, but Derrick kept asking questions about the animals and my duties. None of it was invasive or heavy, but after such a rough session, my need for space and solitude was worse than usual.
And it was usually bad.
I thought I was doing an okay job hiding it, but after a million years—or so it seemed—Derrick paused and studied me.
I realized I was fidgeting with my hair, so I dropped my hand, but the damage was done.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I squeaked out past the anxiety elephant weighing on my chest.
“You sure? Is Aria here today?” There was a pause and his voice sounded odd when he added, “Or I could take you back to Dr. Linda?”
“No!” I quickly gained control of my panic before I drew attention. “I’m just hungry. I haven’t had lunch yet.”
Since he had his bag with him like he was leaving, I hoped like hell he wouldn’t offer to walk me out again. I wasn’t sure I could hold it together for another awkward stroll. Thankfully, he just returned my smile and said, “I’ll let you get some food then. See you at group.”
“Can’t wait,” I lied. I needed a week to recuperate, not just two days.
Usually, I took the stairs to avoid getting stuck in a metal box with strangers, but since that was the direction Derrick went, I headed for the elevator. I pressed the down arrow a million and ten times, as if that would magically make it open faster. When it dinged and the doors slid open, I was thankful to find it blissfully empty.
I got in and pressed the button for the lobby before going to town on the close-door one.
It was just as useless as the down button, and by the time the doors finally started to close, someone stuck their hand in, halting my escape.
The doors slid open and someone stepped in, but I didn’t look to see who or offer that weird grimace-smile thingy most people gave. I stared at the buttons in front of me like they were going to rearrange themselves to reveal the secrets of the universe.
According to Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, forty-two was the answer to the question of life.
Knowing how fucked up the world was, I was betting it was actually sixty-nine. Maybe four-twenty. Six-six-six? Any or all.
“Glad I didn’t bump into you this time,” a deep voice rumbled.
I thought he was talking to someone on the phone since it was a confusing—and insulting—thing to say. But when I glanced in his direction, I knew he was talking to me.
The bodyguard.
The one who’d literally bumped into me.
I was surprised to see him back at the center until I remembered what Aria had told me about the tech nerd upgrading the computer system.
Assuming that’s why he was there, I gave him a small smile. “I remembered to zip my purse today, so the outcome wouldn’t have been as bad.”
His smile wasn’t small. It was wide and easy, revealing perfect teeth to match the rest of his perfect face. He even smelled perfect, the fresh scent cutting through the stale elevator air.
Long ago—before everything—I used to love watching cheesy teen romance movies. The ones with all the overly dramatic acting, the thin, unrealistic plot, and the happily ever after. Seeing him again reminded me of them.
First, there was our fortuitous meet-cute, complete with an awkward accident.
Then, the incidental run-in—which included a clever greeting and charming smile.
Next, he would rescue me from some danger I didn’t even know I was in.
And then, after he saved me, we’d live happily ever after.
Except, of course, my life wasn’t a movie. He wasn’t the handsome male lead. I wasn’t in danger from anyone but myself.
And I couldn’t be saved.
Not to mention, he was crazy hot and I was just… well… crazy.
So, yeah, no cliché romance happening there.
The elevator doors slid open, and he gestured to it, letting me step out first.
“See you,” I mumbled even though it was a stupid as hell thing to say to a stranger I’d likely never see again.
He chuckled. “Yeah, see you.”
Yup, totally not cut out to be the lead in my own life, much less a