Reba Hart sat back in her office chair and sighed. Finally. The work day was over. 5 open houses and enough paperwork to cut down a forest was too much for any one person, but Reba did it. That's why she was the top realtor of the firm. She smiled to herself. She had worked so hard! Figuring out her strengths and weaknesses and then improving them, learning new tricks, memorizing the systems, it was amazing to see it all finally paying off. Reba's boss had been telling her for a while now that she was the best, and she had to admit she could definitely get used to hearing that. She rolled her neck around to release the tension and stretched her arms behind her chair. She checked her watch, 5:45. Time to get home, make dinner for the kids, listen to Barbara Jean babble, settle a couple arguments, and then maybe she would be able to go to sleep before 10:30pm. Reba ran her hand through her disheveled, but brilliant, red hair and sighed again, gathered up her things, which included—wouldn't you know it?—MORE papers. And headed out of her office, locking the door behind her.
Reba knocked on her boss, Paul Jackson's door and put her head through. "I'm leaving now Mr. Jackson. I'm taking the rest of the paperwork home with me."
Her boss looked up from his desk and smiled, "Thanks Reba. You're the best."
Reba grinned back at him and shut his door. As she continued walking towards the elevators Reba looked down to make sure she had everything she needed, mentally checking them off in her head. "Purse, check. Folders, check. Plans for the next open house, che-" without thinking, she turned a corner sharply and ran full force into a person. The papers she was looking out flew and she stumbled back, teeter-tottering on her high heels, she would have fallen were it not for the large hands that grabbed her waist quickly and steadied her.
"Oh my gosh I'm so so sorry!" Reba apologized once she regained her balance. Looking up into the face of the person she had quite literally bumped into, her breath caught in her throat when she finally took a good look at the man she had hit. He appeared to be in his 40s, but well-fit, his eyes were a delicious chocolate brown, his dark brown beard accentuated his well-defined face very nicely, and his gorgeous smile positively melted her heart. "I-I-I wasn't looking and I, um," she stammered, desperetly trying not to look like a fool in front of the most handsome man she'd ever seen. Who was she kidding? She had basically thrown herself into his arms! And she probably looked a total mess. There was no way she could look any more silly.
The man chuckled. A low sound that made Reba's stomach flutter. "Don't worry about it." he said in a destinctive Texas accent. "You can bump into me anytime." he winked, making Reba blush like a school-girl. It was then when she noticed his hands were still around her waist, she glanced down and he released her.
Reba began to reach down to pick up her scattered papers, but the man said, "No no no." and picked up the papers himself. When he straightened he held the papers and her purse out to her and smiled his charming smile once again.
"Thank you very much." Reba smiled warmly back to him.
"You're welcome. But I hope this isn't how you normally, ahem, HIT on men. It could get a little dangerous."
Reba bit back a laugh and raised an eyebrow to him. He groaned, "Too lame, huh? I thought so."
Reba laughed out loud before she noticed her co-workers staring at her. She cleared her throat, "Well I've-I gotta go."
The man stepped out of her way and grinned at her one more time. She smiled, but walked quickly past him towards the elevators once again. Once she was out of his line of sight she breathed a sigh of relief. What a way to meet a guy. A CUTE guy. Okay, way beyond cute. She leaned on the wall of the elevator and dreamed about his laughing brown eyes.

-

The man watched the redhead beauty walk away from him. Kicking himself because he didn't get a chance to ask her for her name. He watched her till she disappeared into the elevator, then shook himself. He wasn't here to woman-hunt. He had a job interview. Perhaps he could casually ask Mr. Jackson about her. He looked down to the elevators one last time before continuing to his destination. He saw a door open in front of him and a man in his late 50s or early 60s poked his gray head out of the room.
"Narvel Blackstock?" the older man asked.
"Yes sir." Narvel replied.
"The best realtor in Austin, Texas." the man came out smiling and shook Narvel's hand. "I'm Paul Jackson. We've been expecting you."