Free Circuit Breakers (Contract Negotiations) by Jordan Billingsly, Brooke Carson Page A

help with the overdue filing, which I hated with a passion. My eyes kept drifting to the front door, in anticipation of his arrival.  I know everyone thought I’d lost my mind, and I was thinking the same thing, after realizing that I hadn’t sat down for over an hour.
    THEN, he arrived.  I knew who he was, immediately, when I happened to see him standing outside our door. Sparks shot down my thighs and forearms, leaving me almost breathless and giddy at the same time. Tamp it down! I mentally warned myself before giving him access inside our domain.
    Shaking his hand, when he introduced himself, I didn’t want to let go. He was every delectable bit of six feet plus with wide shoulders, dark shaggy hair, and big blue eyes. The long sleeve, denim shirt fit him well, as did the designer jeans…the ones with the obvious blonde stitch-work along all the seams. While I guessed him to be younger than my forty-five years, I knew he was definitely over thirty.
    As I turned to lead him through our suite and out the back door where he could inspect our electrical system, I could only grin as I walked by all the other women in the office. Oh yeah, ladies!  Pop those eyes back in and wipe up your drool!  If any of the compliments made about my ‘hot ass’ were true, I hoped he was getting an eye full and appreciating the view.
    Once the outside door closed behind us, we talked in earnest about our project, professional to the tenth degree. We discussed possibilities. The more we talked, the more help he offered that wasn’t part of the actual bid. Our eyes would meet, my mind wandered, and I’d lose track of the conversation. My eyes would track down his torso and back up, as quickly as they could, without seeming to be coming on too strong, but man did I want to crawl in the middle of him. I’d mentally slap my forehead to get back on track.
    When it was obvious he had enough information, he promised to have a bid ready by the following day. We exchanged business cards, and he said he’d call as soon as he had his figures together. Shaking his hand, again, I wondered if he felt the same electrical jolts, that I did, when our skin touched.
    After he left, it felt like I had my own drool to remove as I made my way back to my desk. Once again, I felt like I couldn’t sit still. I returned to the front resuming my earlier task of helping out. Because, why blow my cover, right?  One by one various contractors also came, and I repeated the process of touring them around the building, out the rear door, and back to the front door. None of these men had the same effect on me. WTF!
     
    ****

3
    I thought about Mitch, all evening, and tossed and turned thinking of what had happened. The next morning, due to lack of sleep, I was late leaving my house. Half way to work, my assistant contacted me and said Mitch had already phoned, asking that I return his call. Just the mention of his name made my heart rate spike, along with my adrenaline. She said she’d text me his number immediately. When I got the message, I realized this wasn’t the same number we’d spoken on the day before. This was a cell phone number.
    Dialing his number, I had to clear my throat a few times before he answered the phone. But it was no use, the hairs on my arm were already standing before he even said hello. He informed me of his bid and said he could deliver it, but wanted to know if I’d be there to receive it. Goose bumps shot across my skin.
    I explained I was en route and offered an alternative solution...Meet me. I’d never been this bold before or had this zinging feeling. What the HELL was I thinking?
    The words were out of my mouth before I even realized it. Those, as well as, an exact destination in the downtown area that I figured would be quiet, given the time. The next thing I knew, I was parking my car waiting for Mitch. I sat with my fingers glued around the steering wheel, white knuckled, as I voice dialed the office to let my assistant