Not Without You [Chris Evans]

1

Megan's POV

I walked out of the Subway station and up to the street, happy to be in the sunshine again. It was starting to warm up, but it was still pretty chilly out - fall having hit New York with a vengeance.

I was only two blocks away from where I was supposed to be going for my interview and luckily I was still ahead of schedule, so I treated myself to a Carmel Mocha from the Starbucks on the corner to finish warming me up. I sipped it as I walked, taking in the bustle around me. I'd never been in this particular part of New York yet, so I was curious about what kind of place the lady I was meeting with worked at.

The personal assistant ad had been pretty vague on the details beyond stating the job requirements - including travel - and it came with great benefits. I was surprised I'd even gotten an interview considering I didn't have any experience as any kind of assistant.

As I came up the last block, I stopped short - the street was completely blocked off and there were camera crews? I didn't see any sign of an accident, let alone anything newsworthy, so I looked a little closer and found that I didn't even see a reporter; I wasn't sure what was going on here.

Perplexed, I pulled out my phone to double-check the address because this couldn't be right. This had to be a movie set or something. I hadn't lived here long enough to know if this was normal or not, but this was the right address. There was an official looking middle aged man at a gate, so I stopped there first and waited for him to acknowledge me.

"Can I help you?" he asked when he looked up from his newspaper.

"Maybe – I'm supposed to meet with Mrs Sadie Wilson at 8:30. Can you point me in the right direction?"

He nodded slightly at the name I mentioned. "What's yer name, kid?"

"Megan Jones," I said, watching as he ticked my name off of a list; if he knew to expect me, I was at the right place after all.

"ID?" I pulled my wallet out of my purse and showed him my drivers license. He nodded and handed me a lanyard. "Keep this on the whole time you're on set. Mrs Wilson is in Mr Stan's trailer. Go down this side two blocks and then take a right. Wait for them to tell you when you can cross and it's the third trailer on the left. Mr Stan's name is on the door. She's expecting you, so just knock, okay?" I nodded once, not entirely sure where I was going, but I'd find it. "When you're done, check out here before you leave."

"I will. Thank you so much, sir," I chirped with a smile.

He smiled in return. "Name's John. Good luck, kid."

"Thanks, John."

I pulled on the lanyard and continued down the sidewalk, following John's directions. They were very accurate and I found myself looking around wide-eyed at everything. I finally managed to cross the set between takes and was looking to the side and counting trailers when I walked into a wall.

The wall turned out to be a large, quite muscular man with warm hands. He'd wrapped his hands around my biceps to keep me from falling when I rebounded off him and pulled me closer to him. I was extremely glad I'd already finished my coffee and gotten rid of the cup or we both would have been wearing it.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't see you there," I said, leaning my head back to look up at him, my eyes wide from the scare.

I was only 5' 3" in shoes, and he had to be at least 6 foot, if not a little more, so I had to look up quite a ways. He had brownish blonde hair combed over in a way that I usually only saw on hipsters, but on him it looked good. He was breathtakingly handsome with the kind of good looks you only saw in magazines and on TV, clean-shaven with a firm jawline. I felt my cheeks getting warm in embarrassment as I stared at him. Inwardly I cringed - I always thought I looked horrible when I blushed; red hair looked dreadful with pink cheeks.

I met his startlingly blue eyes only to find myself inadvertently caught in his gaze. Damn, those were some beautiful eyes; a person could drown in those eyes. My heart was pounding hard in my chest, but it wasn't from fright anymore.   

"I noticed," the blond Adonis said in a well modulated baritone as he smiled wider, and so help me God the only way he could have possibly been even more handsome would've been if he had two dimples instead of just one. I was a sucker for a guy with dimples. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, thanks. You?" I managed to say a little breathlessly, having caught a whiff of his cologne. He was holding me so close to him that I was pressed against the hard planes of his chest, his muscles defined by his thin shirt that clung to him like a second skin.

My first thought was that the scent suited him - not overly powerful but still incredibly masculine. My second thought was that I needed to take a step back from him, my neck was bent uncomfortably to look up at him since I was standing so close.

"I'm just fine. I haven't seen you around here before," he mused as he let go of me, sliding his hands slowly down the outside of my arms and simultaneously giving me goosebumps and leaving a trail of heat in the wake of his touch. I had never been so turned on by a guy before and I found it unsettling, to say the least.

"I'm just meeting someone here,"  I replied after a pause, miraculously getting my brain functioning before I blurted out something stupid to this gorgeous man. I bit my lower lip, glancing back up at him. "I should go; I can't be late. Thanks again for catching me."

"You're welcome," he said as I stepped to the side, feeling his eyes on me as I turned my attention to finding where I was supposed to go. I briskly crossed the street and saw the names on the doors. I quickly found the one John had mentioned; I realized I didn't know Mr Stan's first name, but there was only one Stan, so this must be it: Sebastian Stan.

I wondered why Mrs Wilson would be asking me to meet her here and I really hoped I was actually interviewing for a personal assistant job and not something else. I'd already had enough excitement for one day. My heartbeat finally started returning to its normal rhythm as I walked up to the screen door and knocked.