If I Were You [FEATURED]

3 - Florian

Shock empties my mind and lungs.

When Mrs. Helgadottir lets out a derisive snort, I sidle from behind my savior, but the latter catches my wrist and tugs me back to safety. I comply and wait for the scene to unfold, hiding in the shadows of her tall, lean yet muscular frame.

"Who allowed you to touch this platter?"

The answer comes with a shrug. "The lord needed help. Couldn't reach the macarons by himself." The stranger cocks her head. "In fact even I had trouble lifting it. How odd for such a heavy dish to be stored so high."

After a pause Mrs. Helgadottir blurts out, "Who do you work for?"

"Brown Incorporated."

"Then I'll talk to your boss and make sure the cost of these foie gras macarons," Helgadottir jubilantly emphasizes on foie gras, "will be taken out of your pay. Give me your name."

"Alexandra." When she utters her name, a shudder crosses her broad shoulders, like repressed laughter.

I'm not as calm. No way I can let a stranger sacrifice herself for my ineptitude. I open my mouth, but, using the forearm she still holds, Alexandra brings me closer to her, effectively shushing me. Her proximity is intoxicating. The spiciness of her cologne threatens to overwhelm my senses. Hints of cedarwood waft to my nose and conjure images of peaceful forests. I focus on slowing my erratic heartbeat; the fact her thumb is rubbing the inside of my wrist isn't helping.

Lost in the exhilarating yet soothing sensation I don't see or hear Mrs. Helgadottir leave the room. When Alexandra turns around and steps back, crossing her arms over her muscular chest, I miss her presence. Wrapping myself tighter inside the jacket isn't enough. I stagger.

Alexandra instantly closes the gap between us to catch me. "Let's get out."

Nose buried in the softness of her shirt I shake my head. "I have to pick up the macarons, otherwise someone might step on them and make a mess. And I have to take the remaining platters into the reception room."

"I'll send--" she pauses, "I'll take care of it. But first you need to be somewhere warm."

With a nod I allow her to lead the way towards the chef's office. I sit on the squeaky chair and stare into the void while she goes looking for a hot beverage. The adrenaline drop renders me spent, groggy. I place my arms on the wooden desk and lie my head on top of them.

It all happened so quickly. The accident, Alexandra's apparition, her rescue... Still, I'll have to bear Mrs. Helgadottir's glares for the rest of the day--and for all shifts to come. The thought sends my stomach churning. I groan in frustration.

"Whatever bothers you, it's all right." Alexandra is back with a steaming cup of chocolate. She's kneeling by my chair, her brows furrowed in concern.

I gape at the delicious decoction and exclaim, "Hot cocoa's my favorite beverage, especially when made with milk."

A sly smile spreads on her face. "Figures."

Little marshmallows float on the foamy surface. "Where did you even find these?"

"I'm very resourceful. And persuasive."

While we wait for the beverage to cool down, Alexandra sits in the chair opposite mine. She asks, "How long have you been working in events?"

I purse my lips as I think. "Mrs. Helgadottir Senior, the owner, hired me when I started my honors degree. So, one year ago."

"The bulldog who barked at you doesn't own the company?"