Chapter 3. Beau

“Can I help you?”

Mia knew she was staring, that the man with the gorgeous blue eyes was speaking to her, that she’d looked up after the collision but hadn’t backed away, so the foot or so between them was due to him retreating while she still hadn’t found her voice or her ability to move.

“Are you lost?”

“Uh… yeah,” she finally managed, snapping out of it. She took a giant step backward and ran her hand through her hair. It happened to be the hand her purse was swung over, so when she did that, it swung back and forth violently before falling off of her shoulder. She caught it on her wrist momentarily, but then it fell to the floor. “Dang it!”

“Let me get that for you,” he said, stooping to get it, but by then, Mia had already gone to retrieve it herself. She hit her head on his shoulder hard. “Oh, God. Are you okay?”

Wincing, Mia rubbed her head. How strong was this man that hitting her head on his shoulder was like ramming her head into a brick wall? “I’m fine.”

He picked up her bag, and the two of them stood, though Mia could tell he was being careful to give her plenty of space. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” She took the bag and slung it back over her shoulder, trying not to roll her eyes at how stupid she must look. It was probably a good thing that she wasn’t going to be getting a job here or else she might literally run into this guy again. Or do something else stupid in front of him. “Can you tell me how to get out?”

He smirked at her, as if he could tell just how badly she wanted to get away. “I’ll show you. It can be a little tricky.”

“Thanks.” She wondered if any of the other candidates had gotten lost and assumed they hadn’t.

Following him back the way she’d come, she couldn’t help but notice how nice he looked from the back. She had to pull her eyes away from his perfectly sculpted bottom when they entered the area where so many other workers were sitting. She didn’t want to seem like a scumbag, but then, she’d never seen a man like this one before—not in real life—not that she could remember.

“Did you apply for a position here?” he asked as they were walking along, stopping to wait for her.

“I did,” Mia admitted, coming even with his shoulder. He was at least a foot taller than her. “But I’m pretty sure I didn’t get it.”

“Oh? Why is that?” he asked, looking disappointed. Mia figured he was just being overly polite.

She shrugged. “The interview only took about twenty seconds. I’m probably not even qualified.”

They rounded another corner, and she could see the exit now. “What position did you apply for?”

“It’s a secretarial position,” she said, stopping and looking down at her shoes. It was almost impossible to continue to look into his eyes without feeling drained.

“Anyone can do that,” he said. “What makes you think you’re not qualified?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it before.”

“What have you done before?”

Something about the way he asked the question made her wonder if he was still talking about work. His cologne was spicy, a hint of sandalwood blending with cedar, and she had a feeling there was a note in his masculine scent that was all him. Mia bit her bottom lip and tried to get her head together. “Uh… nothing.”

“Nothing?” He lifted a dark eyebrow. Her answer seemed to intrigue him for reasons she couldn’t let herself contemplate.

“Not really. I worked as a cashier at a gas station while I took care of my mom.”

“Was she ill?” His tone changed to something less suggestive and more concerned.

Mia nodded. Her mother had been dead for almost six months, but she still missed her terribly. “She passed away, so I moved to the big city.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

He seemed to sincerely mean that, and Mia felt a tear coming to her eye. So many people said it but it was just something one said off the cuff, as if they didn’t really feel it. She could tell by his eyes that he did. “Thank you.”

A heavy silence fell over them. Mia struggled for something else to say, but there wasn’t any more. He’d shown her to the exit; she wasn’t getting this job anyway. She’d never see him again.

He seemed at a loss for words as well, which she guessed was out of character for him. “Well, I hope you get the job,” he said with a small smile, and she almost thought he meant it.

“I appreciate that. Thank you. And thanks for showing me out.” She gestured toward the door with a thumb over her shoulder.

“You bet. Maybe I’ll see you around…?”

He was waiting for her name. This gorgeous, sexy man with beautiful blue eyes and the kind of grin that morphed between boy-next-door and spank you till you can’t breathe wanted to know her name.

The only problem was… she couldn’t remember it.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t catch your name,” he said, prompting her.

Too bad she hadn’t grabbed that copy of her resume. It was probably on there. “My… uh….” Oh, yeah—duh—that was it. “Mia. My name is Mia.”

That grin was back, the mischievous crooked one. “Mia?”

“Yes.”

He stuck out his right hand, and she stared at it for a moment, wondering what sorts of things it was capable of before she slipped her tiny palm inside. His touch was light at first, but then firm and commanding as he shook her hand and electric pulses shot up her arm. “I’m Beau.”

“Beau.” As in beautiful, she thought to herself. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“Take care, Mia.”

She smiled and then turned to go, almost smacking into the doorway but catching herself and not daring to turn and look at him again to see if he’d noticed. He had to have—she could practically feel his eyes on the back of her.

Back in the waiting room, she ignored the sighs from everyone else who likely assumed she’d been interviewing that whole time, rather than just wandering aimlessly. She couldn’t help but smile, though. Even if she never saw Beau again, the encounter had been memorable. Maybe he’d get his wish, and she would come to work there. Then what? She didn’t know, but she was looking forward to finding out.