"Hey Caroline, are you ready for your presentation?"

The pencil cup in my hand crashed to my desk, scattering an array of writing utensils across my small cubicle. I frantically dropped to my knees, collecting the pens one by one. "Oh my God, Marco, you scared me."

"Sorry," he said, gathering two stray pencils from the edge of my desk. "I know this is your first time presenting on your own, and I wanted to make sure you didn't need anything."

Marco squatted beside me and I stilled. He was handsome—dark brown eyes, wavy black hair, deep golden skin and dimples. Oh, God–those dimples. I mindlessly took the pens he held out and moved to stand.

Crack.

A sharp pain surged through my head and I whimpered.

"You have to crawl out from under the desk first," Marco chuckled, holding his hand out to me.

I avoided his hand, knowing that mine was nothing less than sweaty and grabbed the arm of my desk chair, rolling it toward me. As I stood, my clammy hand slipped off the pleather and I lost my grip, falling on my ass.

FML.

Marco chewed on his lip and snorted with amusement; I mean, who wouldn't be entertained? I looked like a first class, grade-A idiot right about now.

"Are you ok–"

I held up my hand. "I'm fine," I mumbled, finally managing to make it to my feet without any major malfunctions.

"Alright," he said dubiously, and I forced a smile.

"Thank you for checking on me but I got this." I slid past him, unable to tolerate sharing the confined space with him any longer. "No worries; the presentation will be perfect. I promise."

I didn't bother to look back and rushed towards the ladies' room. Pushing the door open with unnecessary force, I hurried to a stall and locked myself inside.

How embarrassing was that? No wonder why Marco checked on me; I can't handle simply picking pens up from the floor. How am I ever going to make it through a presentation with the department heads?

Minutes passed before I caught my breath and calmed my racing heart. I stepped out of the stall and braced my arms on the counter. Looking at myself in the mirror, I said, "You got this, Caroline. Take it slow and whatever you do... don't look at Marco."

I washed my hands and exited the restroom, ready to face the moment I'd spent two weeks preparing for. I would knock them dead.

"Caroline." Marco pushed away from the wall at the end of the hallway.

Not today, Satan Marco.

"I really don't have time to talk. I've got to check my PowerPoint before we start," I said over my shoulder and picked up my speed.

"But..."

"But nothing, I have stuff to do," I all but barked, taking a hard right into my cubicle so fast that I almost fell – again.

"I just needed to–"

But I picked up the phone, pretending to make a call, desperate for him to leave me alone. I couldn't let myself get distracted by that wavy hair... those chocolate eyes... the dimp– Stop it, Caroline.

I hung up the phone, saying a goodbye to the invisible person on the other end, and checked the PowerPoint I made for the fortieth time. It was perfect, and I knew it. I blew out a breath. I had to nail this presentation; this was one of the things that would determine if I got the promotion I'd been gunning for for years.

The wall clock read 11:56, and I knew I needed to get to the conference room. I picked up my laptop, clicker, and iPhone, sliding out of my cubicle, hoping to avoid Marco the Beautiful.

"Caroline!" a velvety voice behind me called.

Shit, man! Do you want to sabotage my presentation!?

I ignored him, weaving through the jungle of cubicles. My co-workers greeted me as I passed and gave a curt nod.

What on earth could have gotten into Marco? Was he worried that I'd blow it and make the department look bad? Our interactions have always been brief and professional.

Pounding steps echoed behind me and I glanced over my shoulder. You have got to be kidding me; Marco was in hot pursuit. I stretched my stride and wobbled on my heels, bumping into the wall. Please don't let me faceplant and eat a mouthful of carpet. I just need to make it to the conference room and I'll be in the clear.

I could see the open door of the conference room right ahead. Almost there. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.

"Caroline!" he hissed, and I could hear the insistency in his voice.

"For the love of Pete, what?!" I exclaimed, whirling around and putting my palm against the wall for balance. "Are you trying to screw me over or what? I mean, you're driv–"

I stopped short when I saw him drop to one knee in front of me, looking down at the dull, coarse grey carpet.

What in the actual fu–

"Caroline, will you..."

Oh. My. God. My heart jumped, pounding in my throat.

"...hold on a second. You have toilet paper stuck to your shoe."

"What?" I glanced down as he lifted my foot and unlaced the thin tissue from my heel. My cheeks burned and I squeezed my eyes shut. Oh, sweet Zeus, just strike me with lightning and get it over with.

Marco stood and balled the toilet paper in his fist. "Go get 'em, Caroline."

"Thanks," I squeaked, turning for the conference room and shaking my head. "What a dumbass," I murmured, pressing my forehead against the door jamb.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching out and putting his hand on my forearm. "You okay?"

I scoffed and gave him a sidelong glance. "If this presentation goes in the same vein as the past fifteen minutes, it's going to be a disaster of epic proportions," I groaned. "I just made a complete ass of myself. You must think I am a total spaz."

"A bit, but it's sort of charming at the same time."

I rolled my eyes. That's a nice way of saying my mishaps are the butts of jokes.

Marco leaned in closer and dropped his voice. "You make me laugh, Caroline."

"See!"

"I like a good laugh. In fact, I'd like to laugh with you after you kill this presentation. Margaritas at Cancun's after work?"

I studied him for a moment. This can't be happening; Marco is asking me on a date. When he didn't waver, my confidence skyrocketed. I turned on my heels with a sassy sway to my hips and glanced over my shoulder. "Make it shots of tequila and I'm ther—"

I crashed into one of the chairs around the conference table, but Marco was right behind me, catching me before I fell.

"Let's stick to a milkshake and we'll take it from there." He winked.

I brushed a stray strand from my face and smiled. "Good idea."