Kindred Spirits

Jasmine was late already, and she was certain that her first appointment of the day would be nervously awaiting her arrival in worried anticipation.  She stepped into the automatic revolving door, attempting to smooth her unruly, auburn curls into place.  Generally, she wore her hair up in a French twist during work hours.  There just wasn't any time to do so this morning. She glanced at her wristwatch, pushing the elevator call button.  Then, she waited and waited. 

"Damn!" she cursed angrily beneath her breath.  "Why does this elevator take so long?"

Suddenly, the door slid open, beckoning Jasmine to step inside.  It was empty, and she hoped it would take her non stop to the fifteenth floor.  Instead, it paused on three.  The doors opened again, but there wasn't anyone there.  Jasmine grumbled beneath her breath again, impatiently pushing the close door button several more times.  "I hate when people do that," she muttered.  The elevator began to move again and she irritably watched the numbers as they slowly revealed their floors.  Sighing, she leaned up against the soft padding of the elevator wall and momentarily closed her eyes. When there was a slight jolt to the elevator, Jasmine immediately popped her eyes open.  Standing before her, and staring her in the face was a young woman with blond hair and cornflower blue eyes.  Jasmine stifled a frightened scream, and instantly the woman was gone. She had simply vanished into thin air, the elevator still moving towards its destination.  Jasmine began to tremble as she pounded on the fifteenth floor button.  The doors slid open and she jumped out.  For a very long moment, she just stood there, staring at the dingy, gray panels in a strange trance. Jasmine continued to tremble, visibly shaken by her experience.  Finally, she turned away and rushed down the hallway towards her office, feeling both terrified and confused.  She burst into the lavishly decorated room with an obvious air of urgency about her.  This caused her startled secretary  to stare at her sharply, piercing gray eyes glaring into Jasmine’s soft brown ones.

"Is there a problem?"  Mara crisply asked.

Jasmine irritably snapped, “No, of course not. I know I'm running a little late, that's all."

"So I've noticed.  Your appointment has been waiting over twenty minutes already."  Jasmine remained cool, deliberately not allowing Mara's typical persnickety attitude to affect her.  She would have fired her a long time ago, except that she was organized and very efficient.  Competent people were so hard to find.

"Thank you," she muttered briskly, purposely leaving before her words reflected her true thoughts.  She headed down the short maze of rooms, pausing briefly to slip her coat past her shoulders.   She was hoping that carrying her coat would help to make her appear less tardy. Her lack of responsibility today, allowed her perspective candidate to get the upper hand already.  She took a deep cleansing breath before entering the room.

"I'm terribly sorry for the delay, Ms. Wilkinson,” Jasmine expertly drawled, gracefully gliding into the large sitting area.  "I sincerely hope you weren't waiting too long."  The voice that responded was rich, yet biting, and undeniably masculine.

"I believe you're almost half an hour late, Ms. Starr."  Startled, Jasmine gasped, whirling around to face her accusatory stranger.  He was standing by the large, rectangular window, his back towards her.  His wide, perfectly crafted shoulders blocking  most of the morning light.  Her gaze traveled upward, noticing that his hair was a dark  shade of ebony. He slowly turned to face her, his features hard edged and handsome, now twisted into a disapproving frown.  There was an instant heat from him that was riveting, yet she felt like drowning inside his hot, caramel gaze.  His eyes were the most unique shade of hazel and gold, she had ever seen. Tiger eyes, she thought to herself . Quietly clearing her throat, she easily recovered from the  surprise encounter this rogue in business clothes had rendered. 

"Well, obviously you don't look like you could be Alexia Wilkinson." she calmly replied.  The man took a few steps forward, completely ignoring Jasmine’s glib comment.  He reached into the pocket of his jacket, flashing a golden badge into her face.

"Ms. Starr, my name is Special Agent Lucas Knight. I'm from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.  I need to ask you a few questions.”

"FBI," Jasmine repeated.   "And here I was hoping you were interested in my modeling agency."

He never cracked the hint of a smile.  Feeling foolish, she squirmed, attempting to camouflage her discomfort by glancing at her wristwatch. "How long is this going to take?" she quickly recovered.

"That all depends on how well you cooperate."  He retorted bluntly.  She stared at him, her own dramatic eyes, flashing in discontent.

"I have several appointments scheduled for today, Agent Knight.  As a matter of fact, my first appointment is also running late, and  she's probably waiting for me in the reception area.”

"Your first appointment is lying in the morgue, Ms. Starr."