Page 12 of My Dearest Mackenzie

“Jerk,” I declared, opening a brand spanking new tub of peppermint bark ice cream. I bought out all the leftover stock after Christmas every damn year. Sadly, it was a seasonal offering, and currently it was the only treat I bothered carrying up to my apartment, and the solo occupant of my freezer other than a bottle of vodka.

Plopping on the couch, I let the pale pink, cool, and minty mixture tickle my throat. I savored each tiny piece of candy cane and morsel of dark chocolate. My stomach would be bloated all the way to work in the morning, but this very moment was worth it. And needed.

Sad but true: peppermint bark ice cream was my greatest indulgence.

I made a mental note not to look at myself in the mirror and to walk to work from my place rather than Uber or subway, allowing the movement to deflate my belly.

Leaning my head back, I breathed in and out, trying to stop my mind from imagining Mackenzie Dickish Miller on his date. I bet she was tall and lean…and young and fertile.

But why did I care? He was nothing more than a missing piece to a puzzle I wanted to solve.

How dare he blow me off again. Okay, we didn’t have a firm plan or any arrangements at all. He hadn’t known I would be at the event, and I shouldn’t have expected him to agree to my terms—he’d said no already twice.

But third time’s a charm, right?

I continued to devour my ice cream, snatching the remote from the coffee table and wondering what Miller’s date was eating. Probably a salad. Why did this all bother me so much? I’d relegated myself to a lonely life, busy with work and friends.

This mystery woman—the dick’s date—likely hadn’t miscarried a baby at twenty-five weeks, leaving her to deliver a stillborn and work for a year and a half to take the baby weight off, but that wasn’t the point. This was my world, and I was living in it. Many of the choices had been my own. Yeah, I didn’t bargain on losing the baby, but I had married Jeremy. Willingly.

Hitting the button for Christmas Romances on Netflix, I became even firmer in my decision to investigate Paps’s great love story. If I couldn’t have my own beautiful story, I’d settle for year-round holiday-infused romance movies and my grandpa’s love affair instead. Dipping my spoon into my ice cream again, I let all the negative thoughts go and focused on what time of day I should call Corey tomorrow. I had a lull in my appointments around two and decided it was the perfect time. Not too early or too late.

“I know exactly who you are,” Corey said over the phone after I introduced myself. “And you have some mighty big balls. Pardon me for saying it, but you do.”

I couldn’t help the giggle before clearing my throat and stating, “I’m pretty sure that’s not appropriate for you to say over the phone to a woman.”

“Oh, I know. But at this point I’d even take you suing me to get more interactions between you and the boss. There is no better entertainment. I mean, what are you? Four-eleven?”

“Five foot one,” I answered proudly.

“Okay, we’ll say five feet, and you take on that big brute, no matter the issue. You know he’s practically a hermit? Do you? Yet you come barging in any time of day, shoving baked goods at security, making Millsy squirm. I love it. I downright love it.”

“Millsy?” I felt like I’d just been gifted a pint of ice cream, but I’d have to wait to eat it because I was bloated like a whale from the night before. “I’ll hold on to that teensy nugget,” I told Corey, and I would. I’d keep Millsy in my back pocket for when I needed it. Until then, I’d finish the task at hand.

“Don’t think mentioning it to Miller will change a thing. He knows the office refers to him as Millsy, laughs every time he walks in on a conversation where he thinks it might have been used. He’s not penetrable. That’s what you don’t get. Guy is steel when it comes to getting in deep.”

“About the reason for this call. Mr. Miller said to give you a ring and set up a lunch appointment. I guess I am getting through…”

“Sure. He said to make it soon. A little thing about ‘getting it over with’ but I’m thrilled you’re getting through.”

I leaned into the counter in my personal office—the ladies’ room. I never understood why they placed it behind the men’s section, but it suited me. “Are you having fun at my expense? We have really gone three-sixty in this call. First, you commend me about my balls, claiming you can’t get enough of me and your boss. And now…you are insulting me?”

“Not insulting. More warning.” He took on a deep tone. “Mack is a good guy, loved by everyone here. He doesn’t have many who care for him, and he is opening up to you. Yeah, he may want to get it over quickly, but you seem to have a lasting effect on him.”

“I am not the enemy. I’m just a woman who needs help learning about Rose Miller.”

“Hmmm,” Corey hummed. It felt like Mack hadn’t clued him in to our business.

“I’m doing some research on her. That’s all.”

“Hmmm,” again from the other side of the line.

“So, lunch?” I brought us back on track.

“How’s Saturday?”

“You mean tomorrow?”

“You’re quick. Yeah, tomorrow. Mack can meet you at one o’clock.”

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