Page 12 of Naughty Heart

Landing in this handsome man’s lap, staying there, and having him be annoyed that I hadn’t gotten up was it.

If ever I wanted to just give up, this was the time.

Tears pricked my eyes, and I bent down to gather up all the resumes that had fallen everywhere.

Feeling myself on the verge of a breakdown for the third time since I lost my job yesterday, I rushed to get the papers off the floor so I could just get out of there.

Once I had them all, I scrambled to my feet, didn’t look back, and made my way outside. I’d just barely gotten through the door when the first tear fell. And by the time the second one started to roll down my cheek, I heard, “Evelyn?”

Confused, I spun around and saw the man whose lap I’d landed in. “How do you know my name?”

“You’re crying,” he noted, ignoring my question.

“That’s not your problem, though. How do you know my name?” I repeated myself.

He held a piece of paper up between us and said, “You missed this one. It fell onto the table where I was sitting.”

I took it from him and turned to walk away.

“Wait,” he urged.

I stopped, but I didn’t look back at him.

“I need to apologize. I wasn’t very nice to you in there. I saw those kids run into you, so I know you didn’t intend to land in my lap. And judging by what I’m seeing now, I’m guessing your day is going just as poorly as mine,” he said.

He was sitting in the coffee shop drinking a coffee that he had likely purchased there. I didn’t have that luxury. I spun around, pinned my eyes on his, and murmured, “That’s doubtful.”

“I’m sorry. I could have handled that better.”

“Right. I appreciate the apology. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I—”

“You’re looking for a job?” he asked.

There was no use denying it. “I don’t normally go around town with copies of my resume.”

He eyed me curiously, something strange washing over his expression. “Have you had any luck? Were they hiring in there?”

I shook my head.

“What kind of work are you looking for?”

Why was I even standing here entertaining this conversation? I needed to get moving, so I could hit as many shops as possible to have the best chance of finding a job. “The kind that pays. I just lost my job yesterday, which couldn’t have happened at a worse time, so like I said, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get going.”

I hadn’t gotten more than two steps away from him when he said, “My company is hiring.”

I froze. Twisting my neck, I looked back at him. “What?”

The man reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and slid a business card out. I took it from him as he said, “My name is Malcolm. Malcolm Westwood.”

My eyes widened in shock as they dropped to the card to confirm he was telling the truth. Right there, plain as day, was his name and job title. Clearly, Malcolm was close to the top of the food chain in the company. “Westwood? As in, The Westwood Company?”

He nodded. “That’s the one.”

The Westwood Company, more commonly referred to as Westwood’s, was the most popular business in Landing. Hell, it was the reason people all over the world even knew that the town of Landing existed.

“You’re hiring?” I asked.

“Yes. Would you like to come to my office on Monday for an interview?” he countered.