Ep10

I stood for a moment outside the shiny glass doors of the sleek ten-story building that housed Bowler & Brothers. I needed to catch my breath after racing the five blocks I had traveled from the garage, since the gated lot was “permit-only”. Why hadn’t I thought to ask about the parking situation? I looked down at my sturdy, flat boots. Thank God I wasn’t a stiletto kind of girl. I wondered if Anders went for the phony, high-maintenance type. Probably not, I decided. He seemed like a man who enjoyed getting his hands dirty, maybe in more ways than one.

These thoughts were certainly not helping slow my heart rate, so I pretended I was watching a round of golf until a yawn nearly split my face in half. Worked like a charm.

I pushed open the door and was met with a swirl of cool air and vanilla musk. The faux marble lobby was empty and my steps echoed as I moved toward the bank of elevators on the opposite side of the room.

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