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Beckett steadies me with a hand on my elbow. “You okay?” he whispers in my ear.
My body is officially on overload. My skin burns from his touch and goosebumps spread from my ear down my neck at the feel of his breath against my skin.
“I need the restroom. I’ll meet you in the conference room,” I say before rushing away.
I hurry down a hallway until I reach the women’s restroom. I slam the door closed behind me and lock it before leaning against it while I try to catch my breath.
This is ridiculous. My body should not have such a visceral response to Beckett’s. Sexual chemistry and attractiveness have no objective criteria making them immeasurable and completely subjective, which means I should be able to control my body’s response to my boss. But I can’t.
I wet some paper towels and wipe my forehead with them. When I check my watch, I realize I don’t have time to waste. I need to get to my meeting post-haste.
I return to the reception area, but Beckett is gone as is the receptionist. I tap my foot as I wait for her return, but after waiting a minute, I decide I can delay no longer. I’ll find the conference room on my own. It can’t be difficult.
I march to the elevators, but there isn’t a plan of the building. I scan the surrounding area. Shouldn’t there be a plan in case of an emergency?
The elevators open and a man exits.
“Excuse me. Where are the conference rooms?”
“Top floor.”
I smile my thanks before hopping into the vacant elevator. I push the button for the eleventh floor.
Calm down, Lilac. The meeting starts in seven minutes. You’re not late.
I consult my watch again. Six minutes and fifty seconds. I blow out a breath of air. I have plenty of time.
The elevator doors open, and I step into the hallway. I’m on a small landing with one door directly ahead of me. I smooth my blouse down and straighten my back before pushing the door open and marching through.
The smile affixed to my face freezes when I realize I’m on the roof. I whirl around to catch the door before it closes but it slams shut in front of my eyes. Perhaps it’s not locked, although being unlocked would be an egregious security breach.
I try the door but as I suspected, it’s locked. I remove my phone from my pocket and dial Beckett’s number. He doesn’t answer. Of all the times for him to start ignoring me, it has to be now when I need him.
Think, Lilac. Think.
I need to work out a solution, but I’m not going to work anything out standing on the rooftop glaring at my phone. I should perform a reconnaissance. To my right is the edge of the roof and the street. As I’m unable to fly, this is unhelpful information. Behind me is the locked door. Also unhelpful.
I head to the left and discover a panel of skylights jutting out of the roof. I tiptoe closer in order to peer into the windows and realize this is the conference room I’ve been searching for. Beckett as well as several representatives of the client are mulling about.
Good. The meeting hasn’t started yet. I check my watch. I have two minutes to make it into the room. But how?
I phone Beckett once more, but he ignores the call again. Why is he ignoring my calls? He knows I should be in the meeting and I’m somewhere in the building.
Is he trying to sabotage my career? Does he want to fire me? Did he kiss me to have a reason to fire me?
No. No. And no. You’re being utterly ridiculous, Lilac. None of those theories is remotely possible. And his kiss couldn’t have been faked. He can’t fake his hard dick pushing against my stomach.
Perhaps he doesn’t want to interrupt his discussion with the client. Yes, this makes much more sense. I’ll send a message instead.
I need your assistance. I’m stuck on the roof.
I hit send and watch as Beckett looks down at his phone. His eyes widen when he reads my message, and he lifts his gaze skyward. I wave and he returns the gesture.
Unfortunately, the other participants at the meeting notice him waving at the roof and gaze upwards as well. I smile at them before backing away.
“What are you doing on the roof?” Beckett asks when he opens the door for me a minute later. I expect him to bark out his question – I am embarrassing our company after all – but his lips are tipped up in a barely there smile.
“I was told the conference room was on the top floor. I wasn’t made aware of the elevator going to the roof level.”
