Mister Manhattan (Cocky Hero Club) - Alexandria Sure Page 0,30

game, and I happen to have tickets to a game tomorrow.” Jurnee hesitated, as if she was attempting to read my reaction as she continued. “I was able to score two tickets on the first flight in the morning and a return flight Sunday mid-morning.”

I tossed my pen down on the pad and leaned back in my chair, letting Jurnee’s offer sink in.

“Forget it. It was a silly idea.” She flicked the tab on her planner.

Touching her forearm, I worked to contain my excitement. “I’d love to go to the game with you. I’m sure I have extra miles. I can get the flight–”

Jurnee’s hand flew in the air in front of my face. “My idea. My dime.”

Smiling, I scanned my memory for the last time I’d been the one treated to anything. I came up empty. This woman, that I had only known for a week, was inviting me on a trip on her ‘dime.’ Who was she?

Staring into each other’s eyes, I saw the apprehension. “I’d be honored to make a spontaneous trip to Michigan to experience a football game with you.”

“Really?” Her planner was in her hands before the huge smile spread across her face. “The flight leaves at seven. Can you be at the airport by five-thirty?”

“Five-thirty is doable, but I’m not sure we have to be there that early.”

“Oh, we have to be there that early. I’m not sure when you flew last, but everything I read to prepare for this trip stated I need to be at the airport one-and-a-half-hours prior to my flight’s departure.”

An alert sounded on my phone. When I opened my email, I found a confirmation for an early morning flight to Michigan and a boarding pass. “Okay. Five-thirty it is.”

Jurnee rocked in her seat with excitement and sang very off-key, “On the banks of the Red Cedar is a school that’s known to all. That’s the beginning of the best college fight song in the history of fight songs.”

Then, the two of us went quiet as the reality of the next two days set in. We were going to be spending the weekend together. This week had started on very shaky terms. Mistaken for a blind date, surprise potential client meeting, babysitting for my boss, and deleting the possible love connection text, all in the first five days of meeting Jurnee Messer.

Our attention returned to the work laid out in front of us. I read the next section aloud, and Jurnee scribbled notes in her planner. It was a process that had become familiar. Notes in the planner were items she wanted to research. Notes written on her copy of the contract were questions she would ask once I completed the section.

Three hours later, there was a knock at the door. When Martin didn’t pop inside, I told whomever to come in. Everyone else in the office knew not to interrupt us. A college student appeared at the door in a damp red polo, jeans, and a nervous look on his face.

“Yes?” I snapped in annoyance.

Taking one step inside the conference room, the guy spoke almost in a whisper. “I have an order for Anderson.”

He lifted the bags as proof he belonged where he stood.

“Just leave it on the table.”

Jurnee shot me a glare and bounced out of her seat. “Never mind him.” She reached for the bag, “thank you for delivering. It smells delicious.”

“We bake all our own bread.” The delivery guy stated with a smile as he deposited the two bags on the table. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. She must have this effect on everyone. He finished setting it down and lingered. What was he waiting for? I already know Martin added a tip to the bill. Go!

“Well, thank you again. Please be careful out there making deliveries.”

“Thanks. It was really coming down.” I watched him shift his weight from one foot to the other. “Makes it tough on a bike.”

“We have work to do.”

The outraged look on Jurnee’s face indicated my tone may have come across as rude. The delivery guy nodded and closed the door behind him. It took some effort to not laugh as Jurnee stood with her arms crossed, glaring at me.

“What?”

She sank in her chair. “Did you realize that you slipped into asshole mode, or are you oblivious to the whole thing?”

“Professional.” I corrected.

She giggled and rolled her eyes, “there is nothing professional about your asshole side.”

Geez, even her giggle does something to me. How was I going to survive

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