Page 64 of Blindly Yours

ASingleRose26

We just…don’t really have anything in common. I don’t think it would make much sense.

BigSpoon92

It’s fine.

My phone rings. It’s Joe.

I close the app and answer the call. “Hey, what’s up?”

He responds with a low rumbling cough. “Got a call today about a ceiling light out on the seventh floor of the Winslow building. I’m back in town but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it in tomorrow. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“No problem,” I reply stiffly, trying to shake off the disappointment that’s coursing through me right now. “I can head over and replace it. You get some rest.”

“Thanks.” He coughs again. “Oh, and there’s also a faulty thermostat on the thirty-fifth floor of Astor Tower.”

Damn it.

THIRTEEN

Rose

Ifan myself with a financial report, leaning back into a conference room chair with a sigh of exasperation.

“Dramatic much, Rose?” George asks, hunched over the table with his shirtsleeves rolled up and a pencil between his teeth as he studies his own copy of the report.

“It’s like a sauna in here,” I complain, undoing the top button of my blouse. “Joe needs to hurry it up.”

He points to a spot on the page and pulls his brows together. “These numbers aren’t right. I think I need to run them again.”

“Which ones?” I peer at my own sheet to search for the error, but only for a moment, because the door swings open and the person who walks in is very muchnotJoe.

I sit up quickly and rebutton my blouse as Nate crosses to the thermostat without so much as a greeting.

“When did it stop working?” he asks without looking at us.

“Yesterday around three,” I reply simply, wishing I could sink under the table and disappear.

Nate’s shoulders tense at my voice, but he doesn’t turn. He unscrews the cover and fiddles with the wires. “Seems like a faulty sensor.”

“How long will it take to fix?” George asks, crossing his arms.

Nate scratches his beard and steps back from the thermostat with a sigh. “I’ll have to go pick up a new one.” He turns from the wall and finally lifts his eyes to mine. A complaint about the heat was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it when our gazes connect because the look on his face burns a hole in my heart.

He’s sad. And dang it, he’s not even trying to hide it. I was hoping we could slip back into what we had before; passive aggressiveness and annoyance.

But dang it.

I’m freaking sad too.

I look away.

“My truck’s in the shop to get new tires this morning. I have some other work to do in the building, then a friend is picking me up in an hour.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Should have you all set by noon.”

George turns back to his report and taps his pencil against it. “That’s fine. As long as it gets done.”

“Heat’s off now, so it should start to cool down.” Nate looks at me, straight-faced again. “Sorry about the inconvenience.”

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