Page 6 of Nothing to Fear

“Who?” Gideon reached for her cheek, and she sidestepped him. “Your boyfriend?”

Boyfriend? She’d only have one of those in her dreams. Unfortunately, she never dreamed.

“I-I’m going to be late.” She scrambled into the aisle, avoiding him. “I have to go.”

He strolled alongside her for some unfathomable reason. His strong physique and weightless stride—propelled by athletic grace—projected his lethal ability to handle anything.

“I’ll walk you out to your car.” A declaration, not a question.

Her stomach somersaulted. “What? Why?”

It took nine minutes to get from her desk to the parking lot, depending on the wait for the elevator. An extra two to her car since she parked on the far end. That meant for eleven minutes, she’d have to talk. With him. Concentrate on the rules to seem nice. She wasn’t unfriendly, but things got lost in translation.

Her rib cage tightened, making it hard to breathe. “There’s no need to walk me out.”

“I’m leaving anyway. It’s no trouble.” Gideon peered down at her and the intense look in his piercing blue eyes sent butterflies dancing in her belly.

She stared at him, trying to recall why it was a bad idea, and tripped over her feet. Gah!

Tearing her gaze away, she focused on what was going on around her, determined to pull it together and not fall flat on her face.

Holding center stage in the middle of Intel as she passed around a platter of fudge was Janet Price, the director’s assistant. She was a Rubenesque woman who had an effortless way of bringing people together over her homemade dishes.

Gideon stopped and joined the gaggle. Willow considered hurrying to the elevator, but she needed to work on being socially acceptable in the office. So she stayed, following etiquette about mingling for a minute or two to avoid coming across as antisocial.

Laughter floated in the air over the background noise of the news. Doc and Janet giggled, practically arm-in-arm and breathless over one of Daniel Cutter’s Marine Force Recon stories.

On and on Daniel went. His stories always sounded the same, not at all funny to Willow. She never got their humor.

Voracious hands shoveled chocolate into eager mouths. Chatter flowed easy as a breeze.

Willow swallowed past the tightening in her throat. Sometimes she longed to be a sail riding that breeze but usually found herself a feather adrift in it. Social codes and cues she couldn’t decipher layered their conversations. There was a wall between Willow and everyone else. She didn’t know how to break it down, and trying was overwhelming.

Gideon swiped a couple pieces of fudge, and a slow-burning smile spread across his face. An odd tingle gathered in Willow’s chest, making her toes bunch in her shoes.

“Janet,” Gideon said, “your fudge is the best.”

Everyone else chimed in with a chorus of compliments. Willow’s obligated two minutes of office mingling were up. This was the perfect moment to skedaddle to the elevator. Alone.

She pivoted and nearly bumped into Amanda Woodrow, the lead analyst.

“Willow,” Amanda said, smiling. “I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Not now. I need to leave.” Willow rolled her pearls between her fingers, hoping her honesty didn’t sound rude. Amanda was a lovely supervisor, never giving her a hard time about special accommodations like the setup of her workstation. Willow didn’t want to offend her.

“It’ll just take a sec. You’re doing a great job. I’m really impressed with the counterintelligence program you’re developing.”

As Amanda kept praising her, taking far longer than a second, Willow got a queasy ache in her stomach. She had to end this conversation. In a book she’d read, one technique was to change the subject with unexpected flattery followed by a direct farewell. But what to say? Her gaze roamed over Amanda’s desk, past colorful crayon drawings and to the photo of her five-year-old son, finally with a full head of hair since his leukemia had gone into remission.

“I like your son’s curls,” Willow said, cutting off Amanda. “They’re really pretty.”

“Uh.” Amanda’s brow furrowed. “Thank you.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Before Willow took ten steps, Gideon stalked off from his friends, waving goodbye. He was at her side again, stirring unease in her and, at the same time, a shocking sense of comfort.

What in The Twilight Zone was happening?