See How She Runs (The Chronicles of Izzy #1)(2)

“Hello dear, could you hold on just one second?” asked the cheery receptionist.

I couldn’t help but notice her bright red suit that stood out in stark contrast to the bleak black and white décor. She finished her conversation turning her attention my way once more.

“Alright love, what can I help you with?” she asked, with a slight British lilt to her voice.

“I am here to deliver a package to,” I had to look down to get the name right, “one Mr. Xavier Xander." Yeah, I wished I was kidding. What kind of a name was that anyway? And why not just spell it with Z’s if that was how it was to be pronounced. Then again, I had no room to talk. My parents didn’t name me Isabelle. They named me Izzy. I guess I couldn’t blame him for his parent’s lame name choice.

“Go right in. He has been expecting the package and is anxious to get it back before closing time today." She smiled amiably before hitting some button that allowed me to go through the giant doors. I half expected there to be a sign saying, "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."

I stepped through the doors and my eyes were greeted with more black on white. Or was it white on black? Hm. Were there more black things or white things in the room? This place was as uninviting as a party at the local coroner’s office. There was something decidedly cold and menacing about it that gave credence to the rumors. I approached the desk with trepidation as the chair started to turn in my direction. I was almost afraid that someone would start bellowing, "Who dareth disturb me in my domain?" I really needed to get my overactive imagination under control.

My curiosity was piqued by what sort of person would enjoy such a sterile environment. As the chair finally came to rest facing my direction, my jaw dropped. A god, or perhaps he was a demigod, sat in the chair. The man made drop dead gorgeous look straight, street urchin. He was all broad shoulders and carefully contained menace. His face was like that of a Greek statue, all hard lines and severe angles. He had dark Mediterranean features and seemed to be all of thirty five, if that. He raised his dark, almost black eyes to me and flicked an eyebrow up in question.

“May I help you? I don’t have all day for you to stand there gawking you know." His voice resonated somewhere deep inside me, stirring something ancient. It was yelling for me to beware of this man but compelled me to come closer all at the same time.

I finally got a grip on my internal insanity and silently approached his desk with the envelope outstretched. He gave me a once over and began talking in a voice that seemed to echo and fill every corner of my soul.

“What’s your name? You aren’t one of the normal people they send." His voice sent tremors down my spine. He kept looking down his nose at me as if I were something disgusting he stepped in out on the street.

I suddenly had to reign in my auburn-haired temper. I was used to politeness from most Midwesterners. It was not quite like the southern charm I was raised on, but it was certainly better than mister snippy pants here. I plastered on the best charming smile I could and did my best to politely explain. Even if all I wanted to do was throat punch his stupid arrogant self.

“My name is Izzy Boone, sir. This isn’t one of my normal runs, but most of the other couriers were busy when the call came in. I apologize if it is an inconvenience to you. I hope that the delivery is still up to your satisfaction." There, the official line of the company had been spouted and I didn’t have to speak anymore.

“Not an inconvenience. Actually, you arrived much faster than the others have in the past," he said as he raised himself out of the chair to his full height of six foot seven. I craned my neck up at him. I stood at about five six, five seven on a good day, but this man was almost as tall as the building itself and just as imposing. Sheesh.

He gently took the package out of my hands, brushing my fingers in the process. Something in his countenance suddenly shifted. He looked at me as though I were the answer to some great mystery. I was becoming more and more unnerved as the seconds passed. I felt as though someone were in my head yelling at me to run. I wanted to get out of there.

“Listen,” he said slowly, “please allow me to apologize for my rude behavior. It is unpardonable and unprovoked. I have had a rough day and I took that out on you. Now, if you don’t mind, I am going to sign these quickly and let you get back on your way, Miss Boone." The way he said my name was like taking a sip of hot cocoa on a freezing day.

I had no idea what had sparked his sudden change. To be quite frank, the whole situation was giving me a migraine. I just wanted to get this delivery over with so I could go home and continue my moping about the suckage that was this time of year.

Mr. Xander finished signing the papers in record time and handed them back to me with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

“I hope to see you again Miss Boone, and I hope that in the future you will not judge me based upon your undoubtedly unfavorable first impression."

With that I was unceremoniously booted from the office to plummet to the bottom of the building in my own personal death box from hell, the elevator. I got back to the law office and returned the documents. Having fulfilled the delivery, I hopped on my trusty, or rather rusty, steed and headed back to the office.





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TWO





I instantly headed into Mike’s office, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why I should never make that delivery again. The entire time I ranted, Mike was getting more and more amused. Something told me I was not going to like the next words out of his mouth.