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“Sit. Give me your foot,” he orders.
I shake my head. I’ve given foot massages and done reflexology for every man I’ve ever slept with. No one has ever offered to rub my feet. And here’s Will, demanding to give me what I’ve always wanted.
“Virginia. Sit.”
“I really should go.”
“I know you don’t have other plans,” he says.
I stare into Will’s eyes, and my stomach twists so hard, I involuntarily press my hands to my belly to ease the discomfort. “No,” I admit.
Will’s expression communicates confusion with a touch of amusement.
If I stay, it won’t take a crime scene investigator to figure out that my feelings for Will crossed the line from fawning fan girl to a full-fledged flame of fiery affection. I swipe my phone from his hand and head toward the elevator.
“I really shouldn’t stay,” I say over my shoulder.
Unfortunately, I have no idea how to open the elevator without Will’s thumb. There’s no button to push. So I stand facing the door with my eyes closed, willing it to open on its own.
He silently appears behind me. When Will puts his hand on my shoulder, my heart does a double beat. He tenderly turns me to face him.
“Virginia, you’re not afraid of me, are you?”
My emotions are an earthquake, shaking me to my core.
“Not the pepper spray kind of afraid,” I say.
We lock eyes and for several seconds I fall deep into his silent invitation to come inside, look around, and see his heart. My breath shutters. “It’s not you. It’s me.” I force a laugh. “I’m sorry.”
Will sighs. He reaches around my side without touching me and presses his thumb to the black pad on the wall. The elevator door opens. “Nothing to apologize for.” He motions for me to step into the elevator and joins me. “I have to ride down to the lobby with you. It’s a security requirement in our private elevator. Nothing personal.”
Will enters a code and the doors close. I glance up at his reflection in the mirrored walls. His shoulders are slumped and he’s frowning.
“I really am sorry,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “Hey, look at me.” Will turns and places his hands on my shoulders. “It’s all good. Thank you for the walk and the foot massage and the company. I hope we can do it again. But maybe without the thorn sucking experience.” He grimaces, then laughs.
When the elevator doors open, he motions for me to step out, waves to the man at the security desk in the lobby, and says, “I’ll see you at work on Monday. I had a great time tonight.”
There’s so much I want to say, but I don’t know where or how to start. I gaze down at my feet to gather my thoughts, and when I look up, the doors are closing.
“Will, I—”
He’s gone.
I watch as the number on the wall increases until it stops at his floor. I don’t move. I imagine him going back to his living room. Will he put the teacups and teapot in the kitchen, or leave it for the cleaning staff to take care of? Will he move to his desk and work? Watch a movie? What will he watch? A documentary? Science fiction? A rom-com? I picture him putting on a true crime show and envision myself apparating beside him.
“Excuse me, miss.” Instead of Will, the security guard appears beside me. “If you’d like to follow me out.”
I move toward the three-story wall of glass but stop mid lobby, under the giant nest. With my contractor card, I have access to every office that has plants to tend, including Will’s.
“I’m sorry. I left something in one of the offices.” I pull my lanyard from my purse, show him, then ride the elevator to the twenty-ninth floor and pass Savannah’s desk, not sure what I am going to do, only certain that I don’t want to leave yet.
15. Will
UNSOLVED CRIMES: SOLVED
“Mr. Power, the woman you escorted down to the lobby five minutes ago is in your office. Would you like me to have her removed from the building?”
