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“Hey, Arianne!”
“I got your message. I was going to call you back after my appointment.”
“Is this a bad time?” he asks.
“No, it’s not.”
I move out of the way to avoid getting run over by a mass of people rushing towards the entrance of the building.
“Did your prospects hire you on the spot after a stellar presentation?” he asks.
“They’ll never get to hear the presentation I slaved over for days,” I tell him.
“I detect frustration,” he says.
“You detect correctly, dear friend.”
“What happened?” he asks.
“Twelve days ago, I had an appointment with the same company. On my way up, I got trapped in the elevator—”
“Oh, no.”
“I know, right?”
“How long were you trapped in there for?”
“About an hour. The heavy construction right outside the building was responsible for a temporary power outage.”
“Were you trapped alone?”
“No, there was another guy in there with me.” A very cocky, tall hunk with mesmerizing ocean-blue eyes and a dazzling smile I barely noticed. As much as I hate to admit it, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. My roomie was the kind of man who makes a lasting impression.
“Thank God for small favors,” Easton says.
“Yeah.”
“If this is your second meeting, why didn’t your prospects hear your presentation?”
“I booked a seven-thirty meeting instead of a nine-thirty meeting to bypass the heavy morning rush,” I tell him. “Just like last time, I triple checked the appointment. Just like last time, they confirmed. Their executive assistant also confirmed. Just like last time, there was confusion on their part, aka, another early morning golf game.”
“That’s highly unprofessional,” Easton says. “Do you have any other prospects on the list?”
“Not really. There are a lot of tire kickers. The landscape in LA is different from Europe, New York or Silicon Valley. Maybe I made the wrong decision by coming here.” I let out a defeated sigh.
“Maybe not,” Easton says.
My ears perk. “You have a project for me?”
“A friend of mine does.”
“Tell me more.” I’m practically salivating at the idea of working again.
“This isn’t high-tech—”
“I’m okay with that!”
“Down, girl,” Easton says.
