I'll Be Here

American—and even though she moved here when she was very young, she still retains a slight accent.  I love it.  I love the way that it shapes her rrrr’s and softens her vowels.  I love her straight dark hair and her burnt caramel skin and her black eyes that slant in towards her nose.  I love the way she smells—warm and nutty. 
    The bell at the door jingles. 
    “Be right with you!”  I call out and straighten from my crouched position. 
    I am in the back where the copy machine is kept.  It’s a closet really, lined with wire racks for holding file boxes and office supplies.  As I move to the front office, I bring the warm copies to my face and breathe them in.  This is a weird habit of mine—sniffing copies.  I do the same thing when I get a new book.  What can I say?  I have a paper sniffing problem.  Things could be worse.  
    “Is there something I can do…”  The question dies on my tongue.  It falls to the floor and rolls under the desk which is exactly where I’d like to crawl and hide.  The air around me wobbles like the entire office has taken a deep breath.
    Clear blue eyes pin me to where I am. 
    They take me in from head to toe lingering on my stupid purple glasses and red-rimmed eyes.  My whole body is tense verging on frozen.  All but my heart.  It’s enlarged and beats out a dire warning against my ribs.  Danger!  Danger!
    His mouth is parted but I’m not sure if that’s surprise to see me standing here at the heart of crazy or what.  There’s a softness to his eyes almost like happiness, but my brain is on overdrive and I’m just not sure what to make of anything.  I’m guessing that my own expression is simply put: priceless.
    I look down at my trembling hands and then back up at his face—at the square line of his jaw and the way his lip curves up on one side.  His hair is shorter and scruffier looking than I’ve seen before and he’s gotten his eyebrow pierced with a small silver hoop sometime recently.  Damn.  
    When he chuckles I realize that my mouth has flopped open and I snap it shut and sink into my chair knowing that if I don’t sit down I will most assuredly fall over.  I blink and breathe deeply in an attempt to assume an air of composure.  Yeah right. 
    He shifts his weight casually on one foot and slips his hand into the front pocket of his jeans. 
    “Happy to see me?”  He raises his eyebrows suggestively and I almost choke on my tongue.
    When I stammer something completely incoherent Alex smiles broadly and saves me from having to answer his question. 
    “So…  Willow, what are you doing here?”
    “Huh?”  I shake my head trying to clear the fuzziness that seems to have enveloped my brain.  “I—I work here.  Um… what are you doing here Alex ?” 
    I glance quickly to my computer where the appointment calendar fills the screen.  How could I have missed his name?  “Are you here to see Dr. Snyder?”
    “Yes,” he says and then thinks better of it, closing his eyes—those eyes—and shaking his head emphatically.  “I mean NO.  I’m not a patient .” 
    Another pause. 
    Deep breath. 
    Blink. 
    “I’ve got some papers for her to sign.”  He must read my confusion because he clarifies.  “She’s buying a house from my mom.”
    Ahhh.  That explains it. 
    Alex’s mother Brooke is a realtor and Patty mentioned awhile back that she was looking for an investment property.  Duh.  They probably know each other through Jake and my mom. 
    As I take the clipped-together papers from him I sternly tell myself not to stare at the way his biceps pull gently against the fabric of his dark grey t-shirt.  And I’m definitely not going to stare at those clear blue eyes or that thin silver ring glinting in his eyebrow.  I. Will. Not. Stare.  IwillnotstareIwillnotstareIwillnotstare. 
    Crap.
    I’m staring. 
    I mean, I am staring and it’s like I can’t even help it. 
    Alex looks right back at me and his smile—the one that starts out shy and widens until it dominates his whole face—causes my heart to malfunction.     
    His blue eyes crinkle in the corners like he knows what he does to me and he leans slightly forward, his upper body angled over my desk to point out three places where he says that Patty needs to sign.  I catch his scent.  It’s a mixture of soap and mint and something very male.
    Brooke has clearly highlighted and tagged the spots that Patty needs to sign but Alex looks so