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“Jocelyn Killian,” she repeated.
“I know that, but who are you?”
“You mean, why am I here?” She had a sweet smirk on her face.
He waited silently for an answer.
She rose from her seat, “I’m a management consultant, Killian Management Resources.” She held out her hand to Reggie. “Dwight hired me for a six months productivity study.”
“Ah!” Reggie remembered now. “So I hired a firm that builds snowmen?”
“This was a pleasure event I was told,” she said. She was still chewing gum, and it still annoyed him. But he was not at all annoyed by her looks, especially the delicate changing green hue of her sparkling eyes. He recognized a warmth and tenderness from her that seemed odd considering the hard driving reputation of her firm.
“Well,” he said, “we should have met before when we could talk, and we’ll certainly have to make arrangements when we’re in the office, Tuesday perhaps. But now, we’d better get you down the road before you get snowed in with me.”
“Um, my car?” she reminded him, walking to the window. He joined her looking out at the fast falling snow.
For just an instant standing close to her, Reggie felt her warm body graze against his own. He liked the feeling though the sound of gum smacking lips was too much. “Would you please put that gum in the trash!” he said when she turned around.
The request shocked her, but taking the graying gum from her mouth she looked around for a place to deposit it, finding a wastebasket near.
“Maybe, I should call the garage again,” she said. She could tell her welcome was running out.
While she made her call, Reggie disappeared into the kitchen and returned moments later as Jocelyn Killian put the phone down.
“I’m afraid the garage won’t be coming out with the tow truck,” she said, feeling a little lost for what to do next.
“I see.”
“They said they were flooded with calls, and getting all the way out here would be too difficult.”
“Perhaps I should try to get your car started,” Reggie offered. He walked toward the door, grabbed his jacket and set off for the silver blue Mazda, the only car remaining other than his own. He knew that even if he could get Miss Killian’s car started, it might be extremely difficult to get it down the drive. But not wanting an uninvited house guest for the evening, no matter how pretty she was, he decided he had to try. Climbing into the vehicle, Jocelyn handed him the keys, and with a little patience he toyed with it until he had the engine running.
“You’re a miracle worker!” she exclaimed. But as Reggie put the vehicle in gear, he looked around seeing that nearly a foot of snow had fallen and more was coming down. The green eyed woman was going nowhere that night. He turned off the ignition and sat back in the seat, an unequivocal expression of disgust on his face. Jocelyn instantly sensed his irritation.
“Why don’t I try, what would it hurt?” she suggested.
“You’re not leaving here,” Reggie snapped. “Not tonight.” He exited the car and closed the door, trying not to slam it.
Returning to the Lodge, the two spent five minutes dusting themselves off in the doorway, neither comfortable with the situation or the gloomy silence.
“Well, Jocelyn Killian, there’s a room, upstairs, second door on the left, down the hallway. The sheets are fresh and you can sleep there tonight,” he informed her, maintaining a formal and uneasy distance.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” she apologized. “I should have had someone else try when it didn’t work for me.”
“Nothing we can do about it now,” Reggie conceded.
Jocelyn stared at him with a curious expression on her face. “You know for a man that can be so enchanting, you are cold as ice.”
He looked surprised, not by the assessment, but the fact that she would so easily voice it. “And that’s a problem for you?” he asked.
She continued to stare at him. “No, I guess it shouldn’t be,” she said. She sighed heavily, picked up her over-night bag and went upstairs.
An hour later, Jocelyn came downstairs to see Reggie sitting by the fire he’d just stoked.
“I hope you didn’t expect me to stay in my room,” she said.
“No, not at all.” His overt annoyance seemed to have disappeared. “In fact, I made some sandwiches and there’s some chili you can microwave in the kitchen. Help yourself.”
