Page 75 of Austen Persuaded

A faintsmile appeared briefly before he frowned again. “Uh, the blizzard warning. You can’t not know about it.”

I suppressed another laugh. It wasn’t even 8 o’clock yet, but the sun was already up on this beautiful spring day. “Right. I’ll get right on that.” Interesting that Kylan was showing a sense of humor with me—it was the first time since, well, four years ago. It was probably best to leave the conversation on this high note, so I started to walk past him to return to my desk.

But he put his hand out, and I stopped just before he could touch my arm. For self-preservation, of course.

Responding to my questioning look, he sighed. “Annie, I’m not joking. I know it’s a sunny morning, but there’s a blizzard tonight. You know as well as I do that such things can and do happen in Minnesota sometimes, even in May. And it’s happening. I have a meteorologist friend who gives it 97% odds.”

I stared at him in disbelief and crossed my arms. “Well, even if it’s going to snow, I wouldn’t necessarily cancel book club. We’re Midwesterners—we can handle it. I bet most people would still show up.”

It was his turn to cross his arms, and he took in my defiant stance. Finally, he said, “Fine. Well, we’ll see what happens. I just wanted to warn you.” Then, without another word, he turned and walked in the other direction.

I blew out a long breath. As uncomfortable as that had been, I was shocked to find it was also a bit exhilarating to spar with him. Could it be OK between us? Could we get to a place where interacting with each other could be only 90% painful and awkward instead of 100%? With this silly thought, I shook my head with a little smile and walked back to my desk.

Once logged on to my computer, it didn’t take long to confirm Kylan’s prediction on the weather websites. I swiveled in my chair in disbelief for a few moments before shaking my head briefly to clear my thoughts. It didn’t matter. This was Minneapolis. A little snow was no big deal. It did make my choice of spring outfit rather undesirable—a short, high-waisted pleated dress withshort sleeves and strappy sandals. In my defense, yesterday it had been seventy-nine degrees, and I’d been sweating profusely in my jeans and sweater. The city hadn’t seen snow for weeks, as far as I could remember. Shrugging, I turned back to my computer screen and pulled up the latest manuscript I’d offered to read for Sofia. Although reading through the slush pile was part of an assistant’s job to some degree, it wasn’t a large part, since there were so many other duties. But Sofia had insisted I needed to get more active in the content of our submissions, including reading, editing, and deciding whether to represent an author. After all, I’d need to demonstrate I could do all those things to get the job—and, if Francis’s warnings were to be heeded, to demonstrate I could do all those thingsexpertly.

I sighed. The next few months were going to mean a lot of sleep-deprived days and nights, but it would all be worth it. It wasalreadyworth it. I loved every minute of this.

“This snowstorm is such a freaking nightmare! I need to get home. My sister is in freaking labor—in myhouse. I can’t be stuck here. I can’t!” Sofia wailed, her arms flailing before she clenched her fists in front of her face with a grimace.

I bit my lip, unsure what to say. Usually unflappable, Sofia never made a scene. Staying calm and professional was a must in this career, given how many different and sometimes difficult personalities we deal with.

Rainn stepped around the wall from Ambrose’s cubicle, his usually easygoing face curved into a grim expression. “What’s all this commotion?”

Sofia’s jaw dropped, and she seemed to momentarily forget her dilemma. “What’s all this rudeness?”

He crossed his arms over his thick chest and took his time in responding. “This is a professional office, is it not? Or did I step onto the set of a soap opera?”

They stared at each other for a moment, seething. “I can’t handle Mr. Grumpy right now. I’ll be in my office,” Sofia snapped, turning to me briefly as she spun on her heel.

But I called out to her to wait.

Sofia turned around reluctantly, closing her eyes briefly. “What? I have a disaster to deal with, Annie.”

“I know. And this may not be ideal, but …” I glanced sideways at Rainn, who was zipping up his thick winter coat. “Rainn looks like he’s about to go home. We don’t live that far from your apartment. Maybe he could drop you off?”

“No—” said both Sofia and Rainn simultaneously, their eyes flashing in protest.

“As I said, it’s not ideal, but—” I started.

I halted, sensing a warm presence by my side, his arm an inch away from mine. “It sounds ideal to me,” Kylan said in his deep, commanding voice. “Sofia needs to get home, and Rainn is going home. Nice and simple.”

Sofia looked at him in alarm. “But it’s … he’s … we don’t get along,” she said, her voice becoming quiet when she realized she had no rational reason to protest.

Rainn’s lips were clamped shut, and he stared at his feet for a long moment. Finally, without looking at her, he said, “Fine, I’ll take you. Let’s not drag this out further. Meet me at the front door.” With that parting note, he turned and walked away. I stared after him. I’d never known Rainn to act this way. Yes, there was a little resentment between them, but I’d had no idea the animosity ran this deep. And Sofia appeared as though she could murder him. She didn’t look too happy with Kylan either, I noted with a twisted sense of satisfaction that I quickly stifled.

“Sofia—” Kylan started.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kylan. I have to go gather my things to meet myride.” She glowered at him.

“I’m sorry, Sof, but at least now you can be with your sister,” I said in what I hoped was a sympathetic tone.

Her face softened, and she nodded. “Well, I hope you both stay safe. Don’t stay at work long—for real, girl, cancel the book club if you haven’t already, Annie.”

As she left, Kylan turned to me. “Have you?”

I shook my head, trying to ignore his nearness. “I told you, I’m not canceling. Minnesotans don’t stay home every time it snows.”

“You’re not a true Minnesotan though,” he said lightly.

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