Page 33 of Anatomy of a Meet Cute
“You can do that?” Sam asked, surprised that Sherilynn hadn’t mentioned that the train change was entirely unnecessary.
“Yup. That’s why it took so long. You don’t have to change trains.” Grant smirked. “You clearly haven’t explored much of the city yet.”
“On a fellow’s schedule with Duke’s rust bucket as my ride? Of course not.” Sam laughed.
“Remind me after the meeting, and I’ll give you the local rundown on the city. Starting with public transit.” Grant smiled at her, and Sam felt her heartbeat tick up in a way that she couldn’t attribute to her brisk walking pace. Before she had a chance to interrogate the feeling, Grant turned to face the building’s industrial metal-and-glass doors before asking, “You ready for this?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Sam said, pulling her shoulders back. Grant made an indignant snorting sound. It should have been unattractive, and yet she did not find it the least bit problematic. In fact, it was kind of adora—Sam stopped and redirected her focus. “What? Not all of uscan be born ready,” she said, using her best Grant tone for the wordsborn ready.
“I would never say ‘I was born ready.’ Do I look like I wear neon tank tops to the gym?” Grant asked, wrinkling his nose.
Starting to walk toward the door, Sam said, “I bet you have a pair of mirror aviators and some hot-pink workout gear stashed in a drawer, just waiting for the day that it is acceptable to beThat Guyagain.”
Reaching to hold the door open for Sam with one hand, Grant threw his other hand over his heart and looked pained. “You wound me.”
“Somehow I think your ego will survive.” Sam snickered as she walked through the door toward the reception desk. Turning to face the person behind the desk, she said, “Hello. We have a meeting with the Anjo Group.”
“Oh. Ms.Azevedo. Good luck,” the man behind the desk said, with a tone that implied that she would actually need luck.
Sam glanced up at Grant, who frowned at her before returning his focus to the guard. “Are they doing a lot of interviews?”
“Not a lot. But everyone who goes up comes down looking ...” The guard stopped to make eye contact with them, his brown eyes going wide to match the overwhelmed expression on his face before continuing, “They look like they survived a bull run.”
“I see.” Grant’s voice was light as the crease returned to his brow. Sam had the unreasonable urge to smooth a hand over it.
She immediately checked that sensation and chalked it up to skipping breakfast. The lack of nutrients plus her nerves were doing weird things to her common sense. Focusing her attention back on the guard, she said, “Thanks for the warning. Can you scan us up to the fifteenth floor?”
“Of course.” The guard moved from behind the grand marble counter, fumbling with a badge as he said, “One piece of advice: Ms.Azevedo loves high energy. Make sure you smile as you talk about your project.”
Sam opened her mouth to protest being told to smile when she realized the comment was aimed at Grant. He opened his mouth to respond right as the elevator doors slid open. Nudging him into the elevator before his grumpy demeanor got them in trouble, Sam made sure to smile before she said, “Thanks for the tip.”
Grant jabbed a finger on the button marked “15” as the doors closed, then said, “Did that man just tell me to smile? I smile all the time.”
“Do you, though?” Sam tried to make the question sound genuine and failed.
“I mean, yes. I’m a very jovial person,” Grant said, his tone flat as he turned the full force of his gaze on her. His expression would have been deadpan, but now that she was getting to know him, she could see the corners of his eyes crinkle just a little. So Mr.Serious was capable of a self-deprecating joke after all.
“I don’t think jovial people need to tell people they are fun.” Sam smiled, then swallowed it almost immediately as Grant lit up.
“Oh, come on. You can smile at that. It was a good joke. Would a guy who wears neon make that joke?”
“Neon guy would make that joke.” Sam wrinkled her nose. The last thing she wanted to do was give Grant too much credit, lest the airplane ego reappear. “And again, if you have to tell people you are joking—”
“It’s okay; you don’t have to laugh at my jokes. I’ll make you feel good. Just wait.”
“Right. Sure, buddy. Way to dream big.” Sam snorted gracelessly at his awkward phrasing. “Make me feel good?”
Grant blinked as if he was just putting together his words and her response. Sam expected him to cackle or blush or something. Instead, a sly smile slid across his face as he said, “Deny it if you want. It’s just a matter of time.”
Sam’s thoughts hopped in about a million directions at once.Did he ... was he ... surely he didn’t mean it like ...
The elevator announced that they had arrived at the fifteenth floor, startling Sam. Without missing a beat, Grant held his arm out and said, “After you.”
“Oh.”
It wasn’t graceful, but it was the only syllable her mind could manage to form as she stared at him. Looking at his full lips, Sam was lucky to think any words at all. At least, she thought she was lucky until Grant said, “Are you going to get out?”
And with that, the spell was broken. Sam waited until she was off the elevator before she took a deep breath to clear her thoughts. It wouldn’t help her focus if the air around her smelled like Grant. Not that she knew the smell of whatever spicy cologne he wore or anything. Because she hadn’t noticed it before. And she certainly couldn’t call that smell up now. So really it wasn’t that she—
