scheduled to start in fifteen minutes. If he didnât hurry, he wasnât going to make it. âAll right. Go find Jill and ask her to show you how to request repairs. I have to run out.â
She peered at him from beneath a massive mop of curls. âSorry.â
He couldnât tear his gaze from her eyes. The urge to tuck her hair back behind her ear overwhelmed him, and he lifted a hand. Buzzz . . . He jumped back at the sound of the intercom.
âGarrett?â
He turned away and pressed the button on her desk. âWhat is it, Jill?â His voice sounded husky to his ears, and he cleared his throat.
âMs. Harris wants to speak with you. Sheâs on line two.â
Garrett glanced at his watch. He was already late. âTell her I ran out. Iâll call her as soon as I return.â He turned back to Olivia and rubbed a hand over his face. What is wrong with me? Iâm acting like a teenager with his first crush. He stared at her a moment longer. What is it about her?
âAnyway, I have to run out. Jill will take care of this.â
She pushed the chair back from the desk, and it stopped short.
âWhat the . . . ?â She looked down . . . and froze. When she peered back at him, her face had turned nearly purple. âUmm . . . oops.â She reached down and untangled a cord from beneath the wheel. She lifted the computer plug and smiled.
Though he tried to contain it, the laughter broke through. He shook his head as he headed for the door. âIâll be back in about an hour.â He pulled the door open but paused and looked back over his shoulder. âDonât touch anything.â
The warmth of her laughter followed him into the hallway.
âCOME ON, GRACIE. I told you weâll bake cookies tomorrow. I canât take you today.â
His five-year-old daughter lowered her gaze as she walked with her tiny hand in his. âThatâs okay, Daddy.â
Garrett clenched his teeth and struggled for control. He hated disappointing her, but sometimes he just couldnât be there for her the way he wanted to be. âIâm sorry, sugar. I have to work today, and Katie is away this weekend.â And of course, school let out early on the day the babysitter was out of town. What did they need early dismissal drills for anyway?
She shrugged. âI know. Itâs okay.â
He led her into the elevator. âDo you want to push the button?â
Although she didnât respond, she did reach up and press the number three. He watched the numbers light up in silence. Ding. The doors opened, and she dragged her feet as she trudged down the hallway behind him.
âDo you want to come play in my office for a bit? Iâll put a game up on the computer.â
She shrugged again and then slumped in a chair in the corner of the reception area. âIâll just play here for now.â
He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. âYou need to stop sulking, Gracie. Iâve had enough. I spend as much time as I can with you, but you have to understand there are times I just canât do what you want.â
When she glanced at him from beneath her blond bangs, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
Great. He turned and walked into his office, repressing the urge to slam the door behind him. What was he supposed to do? He had a meeting this afternoon that he couldnât miss. Ms. Harris had already been waiting more than an hour for him to call her back, and she did not like to be kept waiting. He had to attend that stupid Halloween party tonight. And now Gracie was mad because he didnât have time to take her trick-or-treating, and his regular sitter was away. What else could go wrong today? He sighed. He hated disappointing Gracie.
âOlivia, could you get Ms. . . .â Where is she? Her desk sat empty, except for a picture of a big . . . really big . . .