The Ballerina's Stand. Angel Smits

tell you?

      She paused to think, slowly reaching over to type. Their fingers bumped.

      I think so.

      Could you let me know if he does?

      She didn’t nod as quickly this time.

      It could make a difference in his case.

      Okay.

      She was so close, her fingers still poised over the keys. The scent of her, soft and sweet, wrapped around him and he leaned closer, aching to be a part of her inner circle.

      Hastily, Lauren shot to her feet. She fumbled to catch her purse, shoving the strap up on to her shoulder. She spelled g-o and pointed at the door. She walked quickly, pulling it open before he could even reach for it. She hurried to the elevator, waving vaguely, before stepping inside.

      There was something in her eyes that confused him.

      And concerned him.