Timeless

Chapter 2

As he pushes the button on the elevator, I try not to notice the way his white t-shirt is tucked into the front of his jeans. I can't take my eyes away. Biting my lower lip, I do what I can to avoid his intense gaze.

When did it get so warm in here?!

I'm totally out of my element here with him. Shifting slightly, I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly looking at the ceiling.

Will we ever get to where we are going? I think I might melt before then!

I tuck the hair that had been sticking to my face behind my ears, trying to find something to busy hands.

"No reason to be nervous," he says, leaning against the elevator wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he holds the papers and books. 

Me, nervous? Never. 

"I'm not nervous, and I do appreciate the second chance." sounding more confident than I feel, I turn to look out at the city, thankful for the glass elevator walls. The building is beautiful, and I say as much to him, hoping to make small talk and distract my thoughts. 

"It's quite the view," he says quietly glancing my way, looking down at the papers in his hand. The elevator finally dings at the top floor. 

Finally! 

Feeling relieved as we step out of the elevator, I notice him glance back to make sure I'm behind him.

Who is this guy? Office on the top floor? Casual dress. Walks around freely. 

"What is your name again?" I ask as we walk down the hallway. 

He stops and turns around, looking at me as if I should know who he is.  He appears slightly amused. Shrugging his shoulders, he keeps walking down the hall, "Weston."

Hmm. Maybe I don't know him then. That name doesn't ring any bells.

He is silent as we make our way to his office. My palms are sweaty from the tension, and I should have eaten something this morning because my hands are a shaky mess.

His office has the most spectacular view of the city which can be seen with the floor-to-ceiling windows. Dropping the papers he carried upstairs onto the desk, he walks to the front and stops, leaning against it. His arms crossed in front of his chest. This is his favorite stance. Smiling, I quickly look away before he notices. The last thing I need is him asking me questions and having to come up with answers as to why I'm thinking about him and dirty thoughts about stances.

I need to get out more. This is not the place.

I glance his way as I feel him watching me. The tension heavily rising in the room again. He is rather intimidating but still so sexy, distracting actually.

Still nervous from our encounter downstairs, and the elevator ride I don't want to sit, afraid that I might melt into a puddle in front of him.

Being this close to him is overwhelming me slightly. Okay, more than slightly and it's throwing me off. This isn't how I expected this to go. They don't exactly prepare you for an interview like this in college.

Catching myself nervously playing with my hair, I take a deep breath.

What is happening to me? It was that damned book! Why would they put stuff that spicy out on the table anyhow?! This was a media firm for God's sake, not a publishing firm!

Flushing, thinking about the book and desperately hoping that he isn't paying attention, I gaze at him. He is intently staring at me with those eyes of his. My heart starts racing. My thoughts scatter.