Page 10 of Blindly Yours

“Oh my God,” Junie exclaims, swinging around the corner. “What happened?”

I toss my hand into the air. “I don’t know. Some sort of water leak.”

“Is Joe fixing it?” She squints at the ceiling, keeping her distance from the puddle on the floor.

“No, he’s out of town,” I grumble. “We’re stuck with his assistant, who’s honestly kind of a pain already.”

With perfect timing, Nate marches back into the room with a step ladder. “I can certainly leave the repair to you if I’m such an inconvenience.” He keeps his eyes averted from mine as he tosses the wrench in his bag and starts to remove other tools.

My cheeks burn, but I cross my arms. “Junie, when Mrs. Mason arrives, can you show her to conference room three? I’ll have to meet with her in there.”

“Sure.” Junie nods, looking embarrassed for me. “Do you need any help?”

I sigh and shake my head. “No.”

As she leaves the room, Nate picks up my heels from under my desk and hands them to me. “Here are your overpriced shoes.”

I scowl as I grab them quickly. “Those are worth every penny. The quality is unmatched.”

“Apparently not, if they can’t handle a little water.” He begins unhooking my computer monitor.

“What are you doing?” I ask, drifting my gaze down to the pair of scuffed brown work boots he wears, which don’t appear to mind the pool of water one bit.

“Moving your stuff so I can get to work.” He grips the edge of my heavy wooden desk and easily pushes it across the floor, away from the leak.

“Please be careful with that,” I suggest with irritation.

“Of course,” he replies without looking at me.

I purse my lips and turn my attention to my shelves of files. “Are you moving those too? Don’t let any of those files fall to the wet floor.”

He sighs, stands up straight, and turns to face me. “Is there anything I can help you carry to the conference room?” His eyes are blue. Not pale like Malcolm’s but deeper, less remarkable. But they also seem too kind for a grump like him.

I blink and look down at the load of items in my arms. “No, I’ve got everything, I think.”

He nods as his tongue slides across his lower lip. “Well, then, it would probably be best if you let me get to work.”

“Oh, um.” I stand up taller on my bare feet. “Yeah, ok, I’ll check back a bit later.”

“Alright.” He watches me patiently while I shuffle out of the room and retreat down the hall.

***

Three hours and two meetings later, I slide on my now-dry heels and make my way back to my office, expecting to see it as good as new, but when I walk in, I stop in my tracks.

There is a tarp draped over my shelves of files, all the furniture has been moved to the outer edges of the room, and the hole in the ceiling has now been cut to three times its original size, revealing all kinds of pipes and wires.

“What…happened?” I gasp.

Nate is in the process of packing up his bag, and his shirt is smudged with bits of white drywall. “I’ve got the pipe fixed.”

“But…what happened to theceiling?”

He puts his hands on his hips and looks up to study the gaping hole. “Well, I had to cut out all the wet sheetrock.” He steps onto the ladder and reaches up to touch his finger to the fresh edge. “Should be all dried out by morning.”

As he extends his arm, his t-shirt slides up his abdomen, exposing a sliver of tanned skin above the edge of his jeans. It’s distracting, but I clear my throat and focus my attention on the disarray that surrounds me. “So, will this all be finished up tomorrow morning, then?”

He shakes his head as he slings his bag over his shoulder and descends the ladder. “No, I’ll get the ceiling patched tomorrow, but it’ll have to dry overnight. Then I’ll get to painting on Wednesday.”

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