I wait for Quinton to say something, to thank her, but instead it’s like he has gone somewhere else. Like the mask he’s always wearing slipped and he’s struggling to put it back in place.

“I told you it was going to be big,” I cut into the silence and give Jen a quick hug. “Thank you again for letting us come in today. We’ll get out of your hair now, but I’ll shoot you an email with the updated spreadsheets later.”

“Yes.” Quinton’s deep voice comes out strong and confident—and very close. Whatever was going on with him a few seconds ago is in the past. “We appreciate your help.”

Then he mimics my goodbye and leans in, wrapping his long, strong arms around Jen. And poor Jen, who has been the epitome of professionalism, turns into a blushing, giggling disaster. “It’s been my pleasure,” she says once she’s gotten herself under control, aka when Quinton stops touching her.

Poor Jen.

I mean, I get it! Technically speaking, he is very handsome with his stupidly flawless skin, full lips that look both lusciously plump and firm, his hair that is long and unruly on top—like he’s begging you to dig your fingers into it—and the bone structure of a god that is highlighted with a perfectly maintained beard. And on top of all that, he just gave her this impassioned speech about all of the good he wants to do in the world. Who wouldn’t giggle? Maybe if she spent more time around him, she’d become immune to the charms that are few and far between when he’s around just me.

“Later!” I wave to Jen, who still looks a little light-headed as we turn to leave.

We push open the door and are met with the chaos of Downtown Denver on a weekend. Fall has just arrived, but it’s chilled the air just enough to make for a perfect Colorado day. The glare of the sun off the glass windows surrounding us reminds me that I have somehow managed to forget the sunglasses that I keep in my car and the ones I try to keep in my purse.

But even in the midst of crowds of people on their way to lunch and the women chatting on their phones with oversized bags slung over their shoulders, nothing can seem to distract from the awkwardness lingering between us. The noise around us is still not enough to break the uncomfortable silence and tension as we walk to the parking lot Jen told us to park in.

“That was a good speech.” Even though his head—and ego—is already inflated, I can’t help but say it.

“Oh yeah. That? Thanks.” His steps falter a bit.