Page 13 of Dance with Me on New Year's Eve

Chapter 4

Inearly slipped on the slick, icy sidewalk before I noticed him and slowed my steps. Jeff beat me to the site again. This was the third building we’d checked out this week in our hunt for the perfect site for Hazel’s new counseling center. I’d tried to arrive early because the last two times, I was convinced he’d used the extra face time with Hazel to complain about me, so of course I wanted to prevent that today.

Whathe’d complain about, I don’t know—I’m not usually considered difficult to work with. Of all my flaws, I knewthatwasn’t one of them. At least it had never been an issue before. If anything, I was too accommodating in most situations. But he’d called me an obstacle to progress yesterday after only two weeks of working together, and I’d been fuming ever since.

To make matters worse, I’d only had one opportunity to talk to CastGamer55 about our ideas for the new game because we’d both been busy. Well, he more so than I. Even when busy with work, I usually made time in the evenings or late nights to unwind on the couch with my laptop—in fact, sometimes it was the only thing keeping me going on a stressful day. Apparently, he didn’t feel the same, as he said he was extra busy with work and a family thing. Vague, but that’s OK. We didn’t even know each other’s real names. Heck, I was still finding it hard to call him Danny in my mind, as I’d grown used to CastGamer55, as awkward as it sounded.

I slowed my steps as much as possible without attracting attention from other brave wintertime pedestrians,so I assumed Jeff would be well ahead of me and into the narrow brick building by the time I reached it. But inexplicably, he was just inside the door.

I groaned as I followed him silently inside. The last thing I wanted to do was walk with him down that dim, super narrow hallway ahead of us.

“Hello, Roxanne.”

“Hello, Jeffrey,” I said with a mocking undertone. I didn’t even know if Jeffrey was really his name, but I didn’t care.

He narrowed his eyes but said nothing and turned to walk down the hall.

“The lighting in here leaves much to be desired,” I said. “And when was this walkway built? In the Middle Ages? It’s so narrow. I’m half expecting to see a spiral staircase death trap up ahead. Or a maze of narrow corridors and some tiny alcoves next to window slits. At least they could’ve—”

My mouth snapped shut when he halted and turned, right there in the hallway. “Are you all right, Roxanne? Too much caffeine today?”

Inhaling sharply, I put my hands on my hips—or where I imagined my hips would be if I weren’t wearing such a thick winter coat. “Hilarious, Jeffrey.”

One time.Onetime. He was mocking me for the one time I’d become sick at a staff meeting from chugging coffee all morning after a sleepless night. He’d never let me forget it.

My face flushed and my mouth clamped shut as I realized I had, in fact, been talking a mile a minute. And even Jeff knew me well enough to know that wasn’t normal for me. Well, it wasn’t rare—it was a bad habit when nervous to either be silent or ramble—but it was obviously not my default state. I didn’t even know what my default state was, honestly. I rarely felt like I could be myself with anyone, and I wasn’t one to talk to myself when alone.

Jeff raised an eyebrow ever so slightly but turned back to walk more briskly down the hall. We entered a medium-sized room with overhead lighting that I knew would give me aheadache within minutes.

“I hope this isn’t the new office, Jeff. It’s a little small. And what is that smell?” I looked around, aware I sounded like a master complainer but unable to stop myself. Before he could reply, I looked at him pointedly. “Where’s Hazel?”

“I assume she’s on her way,” he said before pointing to his left. “This is just the foyer. It could be a waiting room, maybe. But come this way.”

Following him reluctantly, I passed through a doorway that seemed oddly short. He had to duck his head, as he was tallish, probably close to six feet. Still, most doorways were at least seven to eight feet high. I made a mental note to add doorway height to this old building’s growing list of shortcomings.

Jeff led me into a more open area with hallways, closed doors on both sides, and a large central desk. “Receptionist?” I asked.

“Maybe. Or the reception desk could be back in the foyer, and this desk could be for the office manager.” He shrugged. “Let’s look into the offices.”

We entered the first room on the left, and I wrinkled my nose at the musty smell probably baked into the faded, crinkly wallpaper. “This looks more like a conference room.”

He surveyed the area with a critical eye, but then his phone beeped, and he picked it up.

I exhaled loudly, annoyed, and walked past him out the door. The next closed room looked more like an office, with empty shelving on one side of the room. I brushed my fingers across the shelves, heedless of the dust, as I allowed myself to imagine having a professional office like this again, with my reference books filling the shelves. I smiled as I picked up an antique bookend that someone had left on one of the shelves.

“Roxanne.”

I jerked to attention and dropped the bookend.“Ugh, Jeff! You startled me.”

His eyebrow rising slightly, he shook his head as I glared athim and then bent to pick up the bookend.

“Are you finished with your urgent business on your phone?” I asked, pasting a tight smile onto my face. At least I hoped it was a smile, but it probably resembled the face one makes when being strangled.

He sighed. “I am. It was Hazel. She can’t make it today.”

My eyes widened. “Hazel just contacted you?”

“Yes, to tell me she couldn’t make it. She’s stuck at the Sheraton by the Minneapolis airport for the night. They’re getting a lot of snow again, apparently, but it’s going to miss us here—”

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