*Helen's POV*
I was running late.
The Henderson project meeting had run over by twenty minutes, and now I had exactly five minutes to get to the third floor for the quarterly marketing review. I clutched my folder in one hand and my coffee in the other, practically jogging toward the elevators.
"Excuse me, sorry, coming through," I muttered, weaving between clusters of coworkers in the hallway.
I rounded the corner at full speed, my eyes on my watch, not looking where I was going-
And crashed directly into someone.
My coffee cup flew from my hand, the lid popping off mid-air. Hot liquid splashed across my white blouse, soaking through the fabric instantly.
"Oh no!" I gasped, looking down at the spreading brown stain.
"I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going!"
I looked up to see Kelvin Blackwood standing in front of me, his eyes wide with horror. His own coffee cup had survived the collision, but mine had sacrificed itself all over my shirt.
"No, it was my fault," I said quickly, trying to dab at the stain with my hand, which only made it worse. "I wasn't looking-"
"Here." Kelvin was already shrugging off his suit jacket. "Please, take this."
"Oh, I couldn't-"
"I insist." He held it out to me, his expression genuinely concerned. "You can't go to a meeting like that."
I hesitated, but he was right. I looked down at my ruined blouse-completely see-through now where the coffee had soaked through. Heat crept up my neck.
"Thank you," I said, taking the jacket and slipping it on. It was warm from his body heat and smelled faintly of cedar and something clean. It was also way too big, but it covered the stain completely.
Kelvin stepped back, studying me with those dark eyes I'd noticed in the conference room. "Are you burned? Coffee was hot."
"No, no, I'm fine. Really." I adjusted the jacket, trying not to feel self-conscious. "I'm just mortified. And late."
"The marketing review?" he asked.
I blinked. "How did you-"
"I just came from there. George postponed it by fifteen minutes. Technical difficulties." A small smile played at his lips. "So you're not late after all."
Relief flooded through me. "Oh, thank God."
"But your blouse-" He gestured helplessly at the coffee stain. "Let me pay for the dry cleaning. Or replacement. Whatever you need."
"That's really not necessary-"
"I insist," he said firmly, then softened his tone. "Please. I feel terrible. I should have been watching where I was going."
"We both should have been watching," I pointed out.
His smile widened slightly. "Then let's call it a mutual collision, and I'll still pay for the dry cleaning because I'm the one who walked away with my coffee intact."
I couldn't help but laugh. "That's hardly fair logic."
"Maybe not, but it makes me feel better." He pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to me. "Send me the bill. I mean it."
I took the card, my fingers brushing his briefly. The contact was electric, unexpected. Our eyes met, and for a moment, neither of us moved.
"Thank you," I said softly. "For the jacket. And for being so nice about this disaster."
"It's not a disaster," he said, his voice gentle. "Just an accident. And honestly..." He paused, something shifting in his expression. "I'm glad it happened."
"You're glad I spilled coffee all over myself?"
"I'm glad we finally got to talk." His eyes held mine. "We've been working on the same project for a week, and I've been trying to find a reason to introduce myself properly."
My heart did a strange little flip. "You have?"
"I'm Kelvin," he said, extending his hand with a slightly formal gesture that somehow seemed charming. "Kelvin B."
I shook his hand, noting how warm and firm his grip was. "Helen. Helen Blackwood."
His eyes widened slightly. "Blackwood? Like me?"
"Apparently it's a common name," I said with a smile. "No relation, obviously."
"Obviously." He held my hand a moment longer than necessary before releasing it. "Well, Helen Blackwood, I hope this isn't the last time we meet."
Something in the way he said it-the warmth in his voice, the intensity in his eyes-made my breath catch.
"I have a feeling it won't be," I said, surprising myself with my boldness. "We are on the same project team, after all."
"Right. The project." His smile turned almost boyish. "I suppose that means we'll be seeing a lot of each other."
"I suppose it does."
We stood there in the hallway, people passing around us, both of us smiling like we'd forgotten where we were supposed to be.
Then his phone buzzed. He glanced at it and grimaced. "Patrick's looking for me. My business partner."
"And I should actually get to that meeting," I said, though I found myself reluctant to leave.
"Keep the jacket as long as you need it," he said, backing away slowly. "And Helen?"
"Yes?"
His smile was warm, genuine, and made something flutter in my chest.
"I hope this isn't the last time we meet."
Then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing in the hallway, wearing his jacket, my heart beating faster than a simple coffee collision should warrant.
I looked down at his business card in my hand: *Kelvin Blackwood, Senior Project Manager.*
I smiled, tucking the card into my folder.
Something told me this was just the beginning.
