Mortified, the ringing in her ears catapulted her tingling body to what she could only explain as an out of body experience. Who was this idiot who’d taken over her body? Emily’s face burned crimson again. And she did what any self-respecting woman would do. She dropped to her knees, grabbed the coins, open wallet, crackers, Katy’s toys, and the wrapped sanitary napkin lying by this handsome stranger’s feet. Emily stuffed everything back in her purse, cursing her idiocy at not making sure it was zipped up. Wasn’t that purse rule number one?
Retreating into her head, she prayed, maybe at some point in the years to come, she’d look back on this and laugh. Except now, to make things worse, Mr. Good-looking knelt down in front of her, nose to nose, and started scooping up her loose coins scattered across the hardwood floor. Emily glanced up; his eyes were burning into her, and she wanted nothing more than to slink away apologizing profusely, run to her van, and drive away so she could cry the tears threatening to burn a hole in her head. “I’m so sorry; I can’t believe I did this.” Why did he have to help? Why couldn’t he just ignore what she’d done? He said nothing as he handed her the loose coins. She dumped everything into her plain black purse and zipped it up. Emily then sprung to her feet without looking, smacking her head into his, which sent her tumbling back down where she landed on her derriere.
“Wait. Don’t move. Let me help you up. Are you okay?”
Could it get any worse? She wanted to weep right here, right now, but she was stronger than that, right? She rubbed her head, and the strong man held out a large, rough hand and with little effort, pulled her up. Back where she started from, facing this extraordinary tall man, who shoved his hands in his front pockets as he appeared to study her with amazing control, no sign of embarrassment, but an odd curiosity twinkled in those wise whiskey-colored eyes.
Without a doubt, he must think she was nuts, a moron. Maybe he’d ask her to leave. Her forced smile pulled at her mouth.
“I’m Emily Nelson. I called about the job in the paper, we spoke–” The telephone rang. He promptly turned and walked away.
He abandoned her inside the doorway as if she were a woman of no importance and hurried in the direction of the ringing phone. Unsure of what to do, Emily shuffled from one foot to the other, this time looping her cursed bulky purse over her shoulder. He shouted from around the corner, “Come in, have a seat. Sorry, I need to take this.”
Quality Reads UK Book Club Disclosure: Author interview / guest post has been submitted by the author and previously used on other sites.