Page 85 of Stealth Mission
After a pleasant greeting, she picks up her phone and says something quietly. When she hangs up she smiles. “His receptionist will be out to get you.”
“Thanks, I was here the other day when the hold-up happened, but I haven’t had time to come back since.” I shudder and glance around. “That was so terrible, I don’t know how you work here!”
“I’m sorry to say I’m getting used to it.” She crinkles her nose. “They only got a small amount of money… this time.”
Another customer walks up, cutting off our conversation, and I motion for them to move up to the desk. “I’ll get out of the way. See you soon.”
Eight minutes later, the president's assistant swivels her way over to the corner of the lobby where I’m lingering. “Ms. Flora, please come this way.”
A prickle tightens my skin. I glance back at the door to see if someone is watching me.
Maybe my dark guardian angel?
A shiver races down my arms as I follow the woman.
The way he looks does something primal to me.
It also sets off alarms.
Wanting him is dangerous.
I swallow roughly, my mouth as dry as sandpaper, as we cross the ugly carpeted expanse. Confusing feelings swirl around inside me. Evan protected me, twice. Then he made sure I got to the hospital for emergency care.
I want to kick myself for being so curious about him There’s something about him. An edge. He wears confidence like a comfortable shirt. Like he’s ready for a fight.Any fight.
And god, all those hard muscles.
The man is built like a cage fighter.
Heat blooms around my neck and creeps up toward my hairline. What would he think if he knew I used to be addicted to watching MMA fights when I was in college?
But I have to wonder, how is he honing that body of his?
“Ma’am are you coming?”
I snap back to reality. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I was just trying to remember something.”
Where I lost my sanity…
Truthfully, I’m tryingnottoremember something.
I need to focus on the business. There is no plan B in this scenario. The loan money will save the farm and let me launch the new product line that my grandfather worked so hard for.
Please, say yes.
The woman points a manicured, eclectic blue fingernail at a bank of chairs. “Wait here. He’s with someone now.”
Hiding my own stubby, plant-stained fingernails, I perch on the edge of a very stiff leather chair.
At least I wore a dress, and didn’t come to the bank in my work clothes. That would have definitely gotten some stares.Namely from the woman who is wearing enough perfume to warrant a gas mask.
The seat I picked sucks. Quickly, I’m uncomfortableandice cold.
That’s one way to keep you from hanging around. They will either freeze you out or make your butt hurt so bad you can’t wait to run away from the place.
No wonder people rob the place. If they’ve ever had to sit here, they probably started scheming about revenge.
Shivers take hold.