There were very few guys who made m

There were very few guys who made me really look up. At five eight, I’m pretty much on eye level with most guys my own age. Now. In high school, I towered over most of the guys in my class, including the one boy I loved from the moment I set eyes on him. I always felt like a freak standing next to him, which is probably why nothing ever happened between us—even when he asked me to the prom my junior year. But this guy…I had to step back a little to look him in the eye without having to tilt my head back.
And handsome. He had dark hair that was a little on the long side, big, wavy curls just touching the back of his collar. He had gray eyes that brought to mind the word steel, but they were so filled with kindness that I couldn’t quite assign that designation to them. He had a solid jaw that could be called square, but it soften as it moved into his chin. There was a dimple in one cheek. I’d always loved dimples on guys. It made them so approachable. And solid. He was wearing a pair of old jeans that were splattered with mud and a t-shirt that looked like it had seen better days. It was tight, hugging his chest and arms in a way that defined his muscles with an I-have-to-touch-that sort of emphasis.
“Sorry about that,” he said, squeezing my arm before letting go.
“It was my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“Well, no harm done.” He smiled, that dimple growing deeper, wider.
“Let me show you to the elevator,” Ms. Tarek said, coming up alongside this handsome stranger. She didn’t seem too inclined to introduce me, and I couldn’t really blame her. I think she was so disgusted by my qualifications that she just wanted to get rid of me. I nodded politely to Mr. Handsome and followed her down the hall.
She stabbed the button for the elevator. When it opened, she looked at me but didn’t seem interested in a long goodbye. I just nodded and climbed into the elevator. The last thing I remembered—and I should have seen it as a warning of what was to come—was her stern expression and Mr. Handsome smiling thoughtfully as the elevator doors closed.
***
“What was I thinking? I knew it was a waste of time.”
“But it got you off the horse,” my friend, Lisa, said later that night over drinks at the bar where she works.
“I felt like an idiot. She asked me what I did at Starbuck’s, and I could see her interest in me just slip away with the first syllable out of my mouth.”
“Her loss if she couldn’t see what a great asset you would have been to the company. It’s brand new, isn’t it? I can’t imagine they can be all that picky about whom they hire the first year or two of business.”
“Yeah, well, they seem to be doing quite well for a business that’s only existed for seven months. I mean, they already have two projects finished, and I read on their website that they have five more near completion. That’s pretty impressive for a construction company.”
“I suppose. But they would have been much better off with you among their rank.”
I shook my head. While I was grateful for Lisa’s encouragement, I knew I’d made a mistake by applying there. I let my desperation to save my aunts’ house color my logic. It was just hard to accept the fact that my poor, elderly aunts were going to have to leave the home they’d lived in their entire lives.
“At least you met a guy.”
I snorted. “A guy whose name I didn’t even get. And he was so…” An image of him filled my mind again, nearly taking my breath, as it had when I was standing in front of him. “He’s way too far out of my league.”
“No one is out of your league unless you want him to be. At least, that’s my philosophy.”
Yes, well, this was coming from the girl who dated everyone from the president of the chess club to the star quarterback of our high school football team. She was not incredibly picky about the men she dated. Last week, she went out with a forty-year-old divorcé who cried about his children all through dinner. And she slept with him. Told me it was because she felt sorry for him. And, predictably, she never heard from him again. Probably went back to his wife. But that didn’t seem to faze Lisa. She had a date in less than an hour with one of her customers here at the bar.
I lifted my drink and swallowed more than I’d intended to. Life really sucked sometimes. I wasn’t looking forward to going home and telling my aunts I’d failed them.
Lisa touched my shoulder. “Don’t look so down in the dumps, kiddo. Something will happen for you. I have a good feeling.”
I pressed my hand to hers. “I wish I had your optimism.”
“You don’t need it. I’m optimistic enough for the both of us.”
I kissed her cheek as I stood to leave. “Call me tomorrow. Let me know how your date went.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come along? I’m sure he could find a friend…”
“No, thanks.”
I walked out of the bar into the cool evening air, a surprisingly mild start to a North Texas summer. I walked slowly down the street, taking small enjoyment from the exercise. I’d been on my feet most of the afternoon,