Read Crossing Paths for Free Online Page B

bottoms of my feet are also black from running down the streets, and they’ve ruined the interior. I have no idea how much these cost. Caroline is probably going to kill me when she sees these shoes. I exit the stall, and I wet a few paper towels to clean the bottom of my feet.
    I clean the shoes as best as I can and then peek my head out the restroom door. I can’t see anyone in the hallway, so I leave the restroom and take the elevator downstairs. When the elevator opens on the ground floor, I exit and look toward the lobby doors, preparing myself for the push and shove of the foot traffic on the sidewalks outside.
    “June, wait.”
    I am halfway to the front doors when I turn and see him. I want to run away like I used to run in high school track—without abandon and with stamina. I bet he wouldn’t chase me, not with all these people around. They’d probably think he was trying to hurt me, and they’d stop him from reaching me. Instead, I smile and put my shoulders back. This should be good. He probably wants to talk to me about my unprofessional behavior during the plane ride and on the building steps. I’ll be lucky to have a job when I get back to Texas.
    “Let me take you to lunch.”
    He smiles when my brows furrow in confusion.
    “What?”
    “Let me take you to lunch. We can eat at the airport if you’re flying back today.”
    “Um, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
    “Why? Are you planning to beat me with a spoon?” He smirks. “Listen, I’m flying out later today, so I just thought if we’re going to the same place, then maybe we could grab a bite together.”
    I give in, and we agree to have lunch at the airport.

    Two hours later, I exit the cab at the airport and roll my luggage behind me. I enter through a set of sliding doors and I see Cohen sitting on a bench near the check-in desk. I catch his attention with a small wave hello, and he smiles. We both check in at the kiosk and make our way through security. Being a gentleman, he lifts my luggage onto the security belt, not allowing me to put forth any effort. I catch myself staring at him as he bends to take off his shoes. I linger on his messy dark hair, his shoulders, his arms, his hands, and his shoes. Every part of him is interesting.
    We reach the first busy restaurant, and I stop at the hostess stand.
    “June, would you mind if we ate somewhere else?”
    “Sure.”
    He leads us to a small sandwich shop tucked in a quiet corner. We make our food selections and choose a table in the back of the seating area.
    “Is this against company policy?” I ask.
    “What? Eating lunch with a business associate? I don’t think so.” He smiles.
    Right, June. You are just having a business lunch. Stop taking yourself so seriously. I smile back with some reserve.
    “So, June, do you make a habit out of throwing things, including yourself, at other people?”
    I feel my entire body heat as embarrassment washes over me again. “Not usually. I believe you’ve caught me at a bad time.”
    “Oh, have I? What would it have been like if I caught you at a good time?”
    “First of all, I would have said hello instead of throwing my magazine at you, and then we would have had a wonderful conversation about some mutually interesting topic. Second, the stupid construction worker would have let me through, so I wouldn’t have run into you on the steps. I would have beaten you to the conference room, and then I would have impressed you with my knowledge of media accounts.”
    “I guess I would have been okay with the hello and the conversation, but I rather like the fact that you ran into me.” He pauses, looking down as he twirls his fork between his fingers. “And I was still impressed with you.”
    When he glances back up at me, my heart stutters as I catch a light in his eyes.
    We continue talking about his life back home and our college years. I try to avoid any topics that might bring up awkward stories, which is pretty challenging for