We pretended as if nothing happened in the elevator all day. At least he did; I, on the other hand, thought about it all day. I am not good at hiding my feelings. If something is bothering me, you will know whether I want you to or not. Boy, was this bothering me.

During the meeting, I was distracted thinking about it; Markus had to pull me out of my thoughts at least three times in one meeting. He asked me if everything was alright like he didn't know, but I told him I was fine. Did he do it to confuse me? To mess with me? Maybe to prove the statement he made on the first day? If he did, then he's more manipulative than I thought.

I really did try to pay attention, but every time we made eye contact, I could feel my cheeks growing pinker, and I would think about the kiss again and why it happened. It was a vicious cycle that we could not stop.

Thankfully the meetings for the day were over, at least the meetings I was required to go to. Right now, I was reading manuscripts of books from countless authors who sent them from all over, hoping to get published by the most prestigious publishing agency in the world. It was my job to narrow down the choices. I was to read them and write a list of bullet points about the book so Markus could decide which would get published without actually reading them. Except I don't know if he actually reads them or if he just wanted to give me more work since I wasn't exactly on my "A" game during those meetings. I don't mind though, I'm a huge bookworm, so I live for reading, plus I'm getting paid, so why complain?

By the end of the day, Markus had gotten at least twenty calls from his mother, each one I had to inform her that he was much too busy to speak with her. Eventually, she got tired of it and accused me of lying for her son and didn't call back. Of course, I wasn't offended, though I wasn't lying; I did most of the time because he asked me to, and the last time I didn't, it ended horribly for all of us. He'd gone through at least fifteen meetings, and I had read at least ten out of the thirty manuscripts he had given me.

After his last meeting, I waited a little while before giving him my written bullet points to give him a breather. He needed a break from...people...I guess.

When I finally decided to go in, I found him sitting at his desk with his head resting on the desk.

"I have the bullet points for you. Not all of them, just about ten or eleven. There are a lot of manuscripts. They are all so good, and it was tough to describe them in just a few meaningless bullet points, so some of them may be a little long, but.."

"Janice!"

I hadn't noticed him sit up or even move out of his seat to stand in front of me, considering I was flipping through my notes on the books.

He wasn't so close that it made me uncomfortable, but he wasn't standing too far from me to say he wouldn't try something again.

"Calm down. I never expected you to get through them by the end of the day. Hell, I'm surprised you got through ten of them. It took me days, almost two weeks to get through them." He said, taking the bundle of papers from my arms. He looked through them as he slowly made his way back to his chair.

"Wait, if you read them already....why did you make me read them?"

He sat but said nothing until he looked up from my well-thought-out notes. "I needed a second opinion before I decided. Someone who has an eye for books and isn't in this business for money."

"For money?"

He nodded, "All of these decisions go through a board of people who analyze the book to see if it will make money or how it could make more money. That's not what I want. I want to publish actually good books. If they are as excellent as we hype them up to be, it shouldn't be hard to sell them, right."

"Right. You needed a consumer's point of view on the books. Makes sense."

He went back to my notes. I took this as an invitation to leave. "Good night Mr. Turner."

"Good night Janice. Don't forget to pack for the trip."

I stopped just as the door was closing behind me. I turned and opened it again, "What trip?"

"The business trip I told you about when I gave you the manuscripts. We have to meet some of the authors in California over the weekend. Your mind must have been preoccupied with the excitement of reading them."

No, it was most likely preoccupied with confusion on that kiss in the elevator this morning!!

I nodded. "Possibly. I'll make sure to get tickets and pack. When are we leaving?"

"Friday."

"Today is Friday!"

He looked up, confused, "Yes, I know. He bought the tickets months ago before you got here. We leave at 10 O'clock."

"Are you serious?! I only have two and a half hours to get packed and be at the airport?!"

"Yes. I suppose I should have told you before today."

No shit! I huffed loudly to show my anger, frustration, and irritation with him. I feel I did this on purpose since before today, and we were pretty much not speaking. "I'll meet you at the airport." With that, I left, not waiting for a response and not really wanting one. I called the only person I knew to call when I needed to pack in a hurry, my mom.

***

I hadn't called my mom in almost two weeks, so I got an earful when I did call her. I apologized multiple times, saying I was busy with work and writing that I just forgot. She seemed to take it and finally moved on. She helped me back for the weekend, and we spoke as I descended the stairs from my apartment to the street to get a taxi and make it there in time.

If I didn't mention it before, I'd say it now. My mom is a talker. She could keep you on the phone for hours talking about nothing, sometimes three conversations at once. I tried three times to hint that I needed to get off the phone, but she didn't pick them up, just kept chatting away. Next time I'll remember to call her every other day like I promised.

When I finally made it outside with my two bags and my phone cupped between my shoulder and my ear, I saw Markus's car parked in front of my building. Someone, probably the driver, got out of the driver's seat and offered to take my bags. I let him and watched as he opened the trunk and lifted them inside with ease. Show off!

Then he moved to the rear passenger door and opened it for me to get in.

"Mom! Gotta go. Love you."

"OK, sweetheart. Love you too! Don't forg-" I hung up and got in the car.

There he was. Sitting at the rear driver's side, reading. Didn't even acknowledge me until we began moving.

"You didn't have to hang up on whoever that was."

"It was my mom, and trust me when I say I would be on the phone all the way to California if I didn't hang up." That made him chuckle,

"Mom's, right."

I smiled. "Yeah, mom's."

The ride was silent from then on. Both of us are too absorbed in our reading to do more than just that, read. We hadn't even recognized that we had stopped and made it to our destination until my door opened, which I might add scared the daylights out of me.

I placed my reading material back into my carry-on and stepped out of the car. I waited for Markus before leading the way to get our tickets. The line wasn't long since we arrived there pretty early. We made it through security and everything within fifteen minutes. Now we just had to wait to board. We were first class, I had never flown first class before, but I wasn't expecting much but more legroom. I hated flying. I could only fly to New York because Dee was with me; she kept me calm.

The wait to the board was worse than I remember. We waited three hours before they even called us to the gate. As soon as we were on the plane, I sat down in my assigned seat and closed my eyes.

"Nervous flyer?"

I heard his voice next to my ear. He was sitting next to me. It was pretty close to what it felt like, but I was determined not to open my eyes, so I just nodded.

"Just relax." I could hear him smiling in his words. He was enjoying my discomfort. Another hour later, we were finally ready to take off. That only made me tenser. I felt him grab my hand, and against my better judgment, I didn't move mine.

"Janice." I didn't move to look at him or respond.

"Janice, look at me."

Finally, I looked. I looked straight into his eyes. They were soft and comforting. "Look. Don't think." I did. My heart raced, but it had nothing to do with us being lifted into the air inside a flying mechanical death trap.

When we were in the air, coasting, he broke eye contact leaving me feeling lonely and even more confused than with the kiss.