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Lucy gripped the pink plastic pet carrier as the elevator door opened to the plush lobby of the Crestone corporate offices. She could do this.
Mitzy scratched at the air holes and bawled.
“Stop it, Mitzy. We’re almost there.”
Will’s receptionist wasn’t around, and neither was anyone else. Lucy scooted past the reception area to where he sat, leaned over a stack of papers, the end of a ball-point pen between his lips. She wanted to be that pen.
His forehead creased, and his lips ticked down, but he still looked amazing. Two days of driving, and her appearance reflected it. She wore jeans and a purple, striped crewneck sweater liberally sprinkled with the remnants of potato chips and a few splashes of her orange soda.
He, on the other hand, looked like he just wrapped up a photo shoot for Eddie Bauer. It must have been a casual day at the Crestone offices because he wore jeans and a gray pullover with a little zipper at the neck. It was unzipped, revealing a lighter gray shirt underneath.
He poked at the buttons of the phone propped on his desk.
Lucy’s own phone suddenly blared an Adele song from in her purse. She fumbled to silence it, and he snapped his head to the door.
“Hey.” She waved to him.
His jaw went slack.
Mitzy gave a disgruntled howl from her carrier.
“Luce.” He dropped the phone back into the cradle and stood. “I’ve been calling. What’re you?—”
“We need to talk.” So much to say.
His expression went dark. Right. Last time she said those words to him, it hadn’t gone so well.
“No, it’s not bad or anything.” Lucy grimaced. This wasn’t going the way she planned. At all.
Mitzy slammed herself against the metal door of the carrier, apparently through with her temporary confinement.
Will’s gaze dropped to her cage. “Is she okay?”
“She’s grumpy from the drive.” Lucy held the carrier up to her eye level. “Stop it, Mitzy.”
The cat hissed.
“Should we let her out?” he asked.
“Probably.” Neither of them moved to let Mitzy out of her confinement.
If a cat could huff, Mitzy did.
“I confess I needed to see you,” Lucy said.
“We’re confessing?” His eyebrows drew together, and his hands drifted to his hips. “What are you putting on the line?”
Oh.
She dug through her purse and patted her pockets.
Nothing.
The only thing she had was a furious cat. She bit at her lower lip and set Mitzy’s carrier on his desk.
His lips twitched.
