Already extremely late due to the traffic fiasco, Ari rushed out of her seatbelt as soon as the driver parked the car in the underground garage and darted out the door. By the time she raced to the trunk where the pastry boxes were stored, it had already popped open.
“Thanks Dale!” she called out to the driver as she grabbed the small stack and pulled them out. When the trunk suddenly closed, she flinched back, not realizing the forty-something large man with frosty brown hair and warm honey eyes dressed in a formal black suit and tie was at her side. Dale was quick!
“Please, let me help you, Miss,” Dale insisted, not waiting for her to answer before grabbing the boxes from her hands, holding them with more ease than she had been.
“Oh, you don’t have to,” Ari said, tryin
