The Other C-Word (In Other Words #1) - MK Schiller Page 0,3

I see him.

It wasn’t.

The airport looked like an orphanage for business executives. There were tons of suit-clad men talking on their cell phones, working on their laptops or just walking around. Was this for real? Where had they all come from? Did a stork deposit them at the United Airlines terminal at O’Hare? At least the view was nice. Although I wasn’t a dressy kind of girl, I did enjoy a man in a good suit, and this was an all you can eat breakfast buffet of hot men in suits.

One in particular made me gasp for a deeper breath. It felt like those movies where the girl and guy catch each other’s eyes and the soft music plays while they exchange lovesick looks across a crowded room. That’s complete bullshit. My reaction to this man was so strong it frightened me, but it was completely sexual. There was no music, except for the drastic beating of my heart, which was not soft at all. He bit his lower lip and I clenched my thighs, aware of the sudden dampness emanating between my legs. Sex was real—tangible, visceral and primitive. Love was mystical, elusive, vague and obscure. Sex was atmospheric, but love was ethereal. I chose sex every time.

I stared at him a little too long and he held my gaze, which did not aid in my attempts to control my breathing. The planes of his face appeared chiseled with a strong jawline that was clean-shaven. His sandy brown hair forked effortlessly across his forehead. It was neat, but not slicked back or groomed perfectly, which I liked. It was a head of hair that could sustain a friendly tousle, but still look flawless. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I imagined they were sexy like the rest of him. He wore a charcoal suit with an emerald-green tie and looked comfortable in the tailored fit. A suit like that coupled with the designer briefcase led me to conclude he was wealthy and definitely not my cheapskate. He was talking on his cell phone, but even from this distance, I could see he was studying me with the same intensity. I looked away quickly, trying to hide my lustful leering.

Focusing on my task, I looked down at the paper in front of me. I could make out some of, but not the whole name. There was definitely an R in his first name, a U in the next and the last name clearly spelled Randy. I sighed in frustration and flipped over the stiff, ripped email. I scrounged in my purse only to find I didn’t have a pen. How am I so unprepared that I don’t have a flipping pen in my purse? I have three kinds of lipstick, but no pen? I decided to MacGyver it. I chose the coral pink lipstick, the shade I wore the least, and wrote on the back of the paper R U RANDY in big block letters. I stood next to the limo drivers, who all had proper boards with their passenger’s names clearly written. A few looked at me perplexed, but I just smiled and held up my stupid makeshift sign.

It didn’t take long for an older gentleman with a sweet smile to approach me.

“Yes dear, I am,” he said, in a British accent, pointing to my sign. I tried to hide my surprise at his appearance. I’d thought this consultant was a whiz kid, not a gallant grandpa. The man in front of me had to be in his sixties. Then again, the man I was picking up had a strong reputation for business acumen, so it would make sense he’d be older. In addition, he was British and the Brits were very smart in my summation. James Bond was a Brit after all.

“Hi, you’re Mr. Randy?” I asked brightly, taking his hand.

“Yes I am.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry I’m late. I’m Marley Mason from Henley Inc.” I relieved him of his shoulder bag. Mr. Randy appeared frail and I didn’t want him to strain carrying it. He had an amiable smile, which endeared him to me immediately. He wore a suit too, although it looked like it belonged in a previous decade, especially with the polka-dot bow tie. “Have you gotten your luggage, sir?”

“We don’t have to worry about that, dear. This won’t take me very long.”

I had no idea what he meant, but I assumed it was that Brit wit I always had trouble following. Besides,