Page 5 of Just for Her
Chapter Three: Allison
The Wilkins buildingwasn’t hard to find. I walked into the lobby and checked the directory, confirming I was in the right place. As long as I was in town for a few days, I would do what I could to lay the groundwork for a backup plan when Miriam’s restraining order against Caleb expired. As much as I wanted to believe that Caleb had realized the error of his ways and would leave Miriam alone, my instincts told me otherwise. If I could vet a potential local legal ally in case things went south, I would.
My heels clacked on the tiles as I made my way over to the set of elevators, drawing the brief attention of several suited professionals hovering near the coffee shop. I fit right in. I was dressed in my court attire—conservative charcoal pencil skirt and matching blazer over a sleeveless blush-pink silk shirt. My thinking was, if I dressed like a colleague, I was more likely to be treated like one.
I pressed the button with the upward facing arrow, pleased when the doors opened right away. I stepped inside and selected the sixth floor.
The doors were beginning to shut when I heard a male voice call out, “Hold, please.”
I wasn’t in a rush, and seeing Miriam safe and happy had me feeling generous. I shifted my finger to the open button and did my good deed for the day.
My Karmic reward was granted immediately. The man who entered the car was gorgeous with thick, dark hair, dark eyes, and the hint of a sexy shadow gracing a sculpted, masculine jaw despite the fact that it was still early.
Also, he looked fabulous in a suit and smelled fantastic. Spicy and woodsy yet subtle. I wanted to move closer just so I could get a better whiff.
He shot me a grateful look that made my toes curl. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” I spoke the words politely, keeping my features neutral, though my keen powers of observation were firing double-time. “Floor?”
“Six, please.”
When I didn’t move, he glanced down at the lit panel and saw that I’d already selected the sixth floor. His lips curled upward at the corners as he took me in with his assessing gaze. Curiosity burned in his eyes, but he said nothing.
I was curious too. Did the sixth floor hold more than just the Law Offices of Paul J. Cerasino? Could he be my potential legal ally?
The elevator announced our arrival with a ding.
He stepped back and extended his arm. “After you.”
“Thank you.”
I silently appreciated his gentlemanly behavior. Confession: Ilikedbeing treated like a lady. The ideal, of course, was to be respected as a human being while also enjoying such courtesies. I was greedy that way.
I stepped off the elevator and moved forward to the frosted double glass doors bearing the name of the law offices, slightly disappointed when my elevator companion made a hard right and disappeared around the corner. Regardless, he’d been a brief, bright spot in my day.
The older woman at the reception desk glanced up from her phone at my approach and smiled warmly. “May I help you, dear?”
“Yes. I have an appointment with Mr. Cerasino.”
“Your name?”
“Allison Kearney.”
She checked what I assumed was a scheduling book. “Ah, yes. Here you are. You’re early.”
“I am,” I agreed.
