When it became obvious the receptionist wasn’t going to notice them, the security guard cleared his throat. “Excuse me, ma’am—”
The woman turned and took a few steps toward them. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, Mark. You know me.”
“It’s no problem, ma’am.” The guard’s Southern accent was noticeable. He gestured toward Sawyer. “This is Agent Branson.”
The receptionist glanced over at Sawyer, looking away before he could even smile at her. She turned back to the guard. “Thanks, Mark. We were expecting him. I’ll take it from here.”
The security guard smiled and nodded as he turned to leave—the man obviously had a little crush on the receptionist. Sawyer stepped forward to shake her hand and talk to her further, but she moved back.
“Can you give me a second? I’ll be right with you.” She didn’t quite look him in the eye as she said it; her gaze never seemed to move past his chest.
Sawyer watched as the woman reopened the drawer in the filing cabinet and began rooting through it again. When the search proved fruitless, she moved to another drawer. She seemed to have forgotten Sawyer was even there. Sawyer just enjoyed the view of her legs until it seemed as if she might never come out.
“Did you lose something in there?” When the woman glanced up over her glasses, blinking at him with big round eyes, Sawyer offered her his most engaging smile.
She just continued to blink at him for a few moments, then shoved her head back into the search without saying a word.
Okay. Sawyer crossed his arms while watching her. He wasn’t used to being ignored outright by women—especially cute little librarian ones with glasses, even though cute-librarian wasn’t generally his type.
Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t still appreciate her. Sawyer could appreciate all women.
Eventually Cute Glasses found whatever it was she was looking for in the cavernous drawer—some sort of stain-remover stick or something. She gave a small sound of triumph and turned around. And seemed authentically surprised to see Sawyer standing there.
More blinks. “Um, yes. Agent Branson, right?”
Sawyer’s eyebrows rose. “Forget I was here?” Sawyer shook his head with a half smile. She might be cute, but she was definitely the worst receptionist ever.
“I’m sorry, my mind tends to only focus on one thing at a time.” She looked back up at him, again more at his general chest area than in the eyes. Meanwhile still blinking those big brown eyes of hers.
Maybe she was shy. Sawyer didn’t mind shy and scatterbrained. Although the sophisticated beauty he met when he first entered the building was generally more his type, Sawyer certainly didn’t mind spending a few minutes with shy, either. So he winked at her, when she finally peeked up at his eyes for a second, trying to put her at ease.
But that just seemed to throw her into more of a tizzy—she began reorganizing all the items on the desk—so Sawyer decided to just try to talk to her.
“So, I’m Sawyer Branson, the law-enforcement agent you were expecting. What’s your name?”
“Megan.” She was still clutching that stain-remover stick in one hand, moving office-supply products on the desk with the other.
“Have you worked here long?”
She looked at him oddly, then nodded. “About eight years.”
Eight years? Wow, she must be somebody’s relative or something if she was still this bad at her job after eight years. Sawyer smiled at her again—when he could catch her eye for a second—and leaned up against the desk. “That’s great. Maybe if I have some questions about how things operate around here I can ask you about them.”
Cute librarian Megan just nodded.
Sawyer looked around the open R & D area. People were still working, although Sawyer noticed he and Megan had drawn some attention.
“I’m sure you know Dr. Fuller, right?” Sawyer asked in a conspiratorial tone. He might as well try to get as much information as he could before meeting the man.
That question certainly got Megan’s attention—she finally looked him fully in the eye. “Oh.” She said it with wonder as if some puzzle had just become clear to her. “You don’t know who Dr. Fuller is.” It wasn’t a question.
“No, unfortunately, I was sent here without much information about him. Just that he needed protection while finishing a project for the government. As director of R & D, he would be your boss, right?”
Megan nodded. “Um, yes. Dr. Fuller is everyone’s boss, I guess.”
Sawyer smiled encouragingly; at least she was talking to him now. “Do you like him? Is he easy to get along with?”
Megan looked down and began moving items on the desk around again nervously. She obviously didn’t want to answer his questions. That was fine. Sawyer didn’t want to put her in a place where she had to speak badly about her boss. He decided to change the subject before Megan rearranged everything on her desk.
“Megan, do you think you could get me a cup of coffee somewhere or point me in the general direction of one? I’d just like to get some caffeine in my system before I meet Dr. Fuller.”
Megan opened her mouth as if to answer him, but then just shut it again shaking her head. She seemed at an utter loss at what to say.
Cyberdyne really needed to look into replacing Megan as their R & D receptionist.
A man in a white lab coat, probably in his early forties, walked over to where Sawyer and Megan stood looking at each other. “Megan, is everything okay?” When Megan nodded, the man turned to Sawyer. “You must be Agent Branson. We were told you’d be arriving today. I’m Jonathan Bushman, Dr. Fuller’s assistant.”
Sawyer shook the man’s outstretched hand. He decided not to mention the coffee; it had just been an attempt at changing the subject and he didn’t want to get Megan in any sort of trouble.
“Great, Jonathan. I’m ready to meet Dr. Fuller whenever it’s convenient.”
Jonathan looked to Megan and then back to Sawyer, frowning. “But you already have.” He gestured to Megan. “This is Dr. Zane Megan Fuller, lead conceptual and computer scientist for Cyberdyne.”
* * *
OKAY, HAD THE federal agent just asked her to go get him some coffee? Megan had to admit he hadn’t been obnoxious about it, but still...coffee? Of course, she couldn’t really blame him. She had been puttering all around the desk, resorting back to her college behavior when she’d had no idea what to do when she was attracted to a member of the opposite gender—she’d practically lost her ability to speak for goodness’ sake.
She had thought those days were long behind her, but evidently not when a man as gorgeous as Sawyer Branson talked to her. She could barely bring herself to meet his eyes for most of the conversation. He must have thought she was the worst secretary in the history of the world.
Megan had to remind herself that she was no longer that socially awkward, painfully shy sixteen-year-old girl she had been at MIT, intellectually ahead of all her classmates, but emotionally much less developed. Now Megan was twenty-nine years old, well respected and liked in her workplace and confident in her abilities and accolades.
If still a little shy socially.
Megan could see the wariness crossing Agent Branson’s face as he realized his mistake. He probably wasn’t too thrilled that he had asked her for a cup of coffee, either.
Megan stuck out her hand for him to shake. “Hi, I’m Dr. Fuller. Megan.”
“Not