Talking with her helps pass the time.
Even Martha has to work, so I fiddle with the fabric of my polka dot dress and mess around on my phone.
The door to Rowan’s office opens with a bang. I jump in my seat and press a hand on my racing heart. Whatever coffee Rowan drinks in the morning clearly isn’t working for him. He walks out of his office without giving his secretary and me a second glance.
She all but shoves me out of my chair. “Go!”
I speed walk out of the lobby to catch up with him. It takes me double the amount of steps to keep up with his long strides because the man is tall. How does he fit through a doorframe without ducking his head?
As we continue walking, the silence eats away at me until I burst.
“I’m starting to think you’re not much of a morning person.” I somehow find myself matching his strides.
Rowan grunts under his breath. He leads us toward the Story Street Catacombs entrance.
“Wonderful weather, am I right?”
Someone cue the crickets. “Why yes, Zahra, I was wondering what’s the point of showering in the morning if the humidity does the job for me?” I try to imitate his voice with a low pitch but fail when my voice cracks.
The corner of his lip lifts the tiniest bit and I mentally fist pump in the air.
I take another stab at rescuing this conversation. “How do you like Dreamland so far?”
“I don’t,” he mumbles under his breath.
I trip on the toe of my sneaker. “Oh.” Well, shit. I didn’t expect him to say that. “Do you have a favorite ride?”
“No.”
My brain cells all cheer for his response. We’re getting somewhere, people. “Me neither! There are too many good ones.”
That earns me another grunt.
“What’s your favorite part about being the Director?”
“The silence at the end of the workday.”
I flat out lose it. My lungs burn from laughing so hard at his response. He stops walking and stares at me for a second before recovering.
He leads us through the tunnels like he does this all the time. Together, we walk up a pair of stairs and through a door marked The Creators’ Workspace. My breath catches as we walk into a massive warehouse, partitioned into four sections with tall dividers. A certain smell wafts through the air, reminding me of an elementary school art class.
Rowan shuffles me through each room, staying quiet as I take in the beauty of it all. The first space is packed with animatronics and robots for rides, parades, and shows. I run a hand across a cold metal arm of an animatronic. It moves and I jump back and straight into Rowan’s chest. His hand clutches onto my arm to stabilize me. Every cell fires off in unison within me, sparking to life at the gentleness of his touch.
My body becomes an inferno from the contact. Skin heats where his hand presses, and I find myself leaning into him. He releases me and exits the room like his shoes might catch on fire.
I keep up with his hurried pace, following him into a designer’s paradise where the walls are covered with storyboards and the tables are filled with all kinds of art supplies.
The next room features many tables covered in mini 3D models of Dreamland, and I’m blown away by the attention to detail. I lean over one, finding an exact replica of Fairy Tale Land and Princess Cara’s Castle. I can’t help myself from running my index finger across one of the spires.
My neck prickles and I look over my shoulder to find Rowan staring at my ass.
Oh my God. Is he attracted to me? As if he has the same thought, his lips press into a thin line. My scoff becomes a full-blown belly laugh as I curl over. He blinks a couple of times, erasing the look of darkness from his eyes.