Chryssy was late, she was late, she was very late, and Chryssy was never late, ever, she prided herself too much on being on time. Her boss was going to kill her. She’d grown up hearing the adage that to be early is to be on time, to be on time is to be late, and to be late is unacceptable, and she’d taken it to heart and worked very hard to not be late, ever, whenever she could help it, which was often.

She especially hated the idea of being late now because Chryssy had been given the job as a favour to her parents; she had absolutely bombed the interview and she knew it. She was entirely too nervous and twitchy and didn’t know how to say the right things ever, not just in an interview. But he’d taken pity on her and given her the job anyway because he was friends with her parents, and normally Chryssy would say that she was a strong, independent woman and could get the job on her own without the aid of nepotism, but she’d been living off of ramen noodles and mustard packets for a week and she was not too proud to accept the job offer.

Even if she did hate herself for doing so afterwards. She should have stood on her principles and she knew it, but principles don’t put food in the fridge. (Parents, however, do, and it’s much easier to call them and ask for grocery money when you have a job and you’re just waiting for the paycheck to arrive than when you don’t have one and don’t know when you’ll be able to pay them back.)

But all that didn’t matter because she was late and it had been stressed that this was a Very Important Meeting, and Chryssy was going to get fired, she knew it.

She hurried around through the hallways, the files balanced precariously in her arms as she also carried the coffee for her boss, the heels of her shoes clacking against the floor through the carpet that had been worn thin by countless other people traversing the same path she was, her chestnut hair streaming behind her in her wake.

In hindsight, she should have slowed down before turning the corner.

But she didn’t, and instead plowed straight into a hard body and bounced off, files going everywhere as she landed on her butt on the floor – though she managed to hold onto the coffee – and Chryssy had to fight to not just burst into tears right then and there.

If she’d thought her boss was going to kill her before, she had no idea what he’d do now, other than “so much worse than just killing her”.

Luckily, for her own sanity and emotional well-being, she did not simply burst into tears. Which was a very good thing since 1) it would have been extremely embarrassing to do so and 2) some people were pretty criers and Chryssy was not one of those people. Whenever she cried, her face always got red and puffy and the effects of crying seemed to last forever so she wouldn’t be able to hide the evidence before the meeting. Instead, Chryssy set the coffee down and started gathering the files and papers that had gone everywhere, crawling around the floor to do so. "I’m sorry, that was entirely my fault, I should have watched where I was going, I am so sorry, are you okay?" She finally glanced up at the large man she’d run into and her mouth went dry.

Yummy.

"It’s no problem, really," he laughed as he helped her pull everything into a stack. "I’m big enough that I’d assume it was an accident, since most people make great efforts to not run into me." He dropped his voice, as though confiding something to her and said, "My cousin says that most people would probably rather get in a car crash than run into me."

Chryssy blinked at him, trying to scrape up the ability to speak again. "I. Um. Are you okay?" That was safe! She could ask that and it didn’t sound dumb! This was major success for her!

"I’m fine," he assured her. "You’re the one who not only hit me, you hit the ground, so I should be asking you if you’re okay. Are you"?

Chryssy nodded mutely, aware that her gray-green eyes were probably larger than usual in fear.

"I’m Jimmy." He offered a large hand to her, giving her a friendly smile that made the corners of his blue eyes crinkle.

"Chryssy. Well. Chrysanthemum, but that is entirely too large a name for me and no one calls me Chrysanthemum ever, so everyone calls me Chryssy."

"With a name like Chrysanthemum, I’m not sure I blame you, though it’s a pretty name," Jimmy assured her. "But I don’t envy you having to sign it to everything.

"Tell me about it," Chryssy rolled her eyes at him, her smile spreading further. Then her eyes widened in horror as she saw the clock behind him. "Oh, crap! I’m going to be so late! My boss is going to kill me!"

Jimmy stood up first, holding her papers and files in one hand and offering her the other hand. "Well, we don’t want your boss to kill you, do we?"

She gave him a grateful smile as she accepted his help. "I like not being killed. Thank you for your help, you didn’t have to do it after I bowled straight into you."

"I make it a rule to never leave a pretty lady in need of help if I’m on hand to give it," Jimmy handed her the stack. "Enjoy your meeting."

Chryssy gave him a little wave as she continued on to her meeting. Hopefully Mr. Williams wouldn’t kill her too badly, and with any luck, she’d be able to organize everything before it was needed, since it would have gotten all mixed up and muddled in the fall.

Then again, when did she ever have anything resembling good luck?