I almost dropped the handful of samples I was carrying when I caught sight of him. How did my body know to react to his mere presence? He was walking beside a very well-put-together middle-aged woman towards the editing department, which I'd just left as I stood at the lifts.
The two of them seemed engrossed in whatever it was they were discussing, and he didn't even see me, but I felt my heart take flight, and my pulse began to race. It's as if I'd been starved for the sight of him, and with that one glimpse of his perfection, I felt a weight lifted.
Suddenly he stopped in his tracks and turned and looked dead at me as if he'd somehow felt my stare. I felt like Bambi caught in the headlights as I stood there staring back. My face was probably giving away my every thought though the look
