Page 15 of Her Holiday Heartthrobs

Nodding, I watch her slink back in her seat, putting a few more inches between us.

“Let’s get this out of the way. Alright?” I fold my hands on the small table. “Why are you really upset about my asking to see your work?”

“You didn’t ask to see it. You wanted to check it over before anyone else could see it.”

I take a deep breath. “Even if that was true?—”

“It is.”

“Why does it matter, the reason I asked for it?”

Paige leans in, hands braced on the table. “Because, Mr. Walker, if you have to double- and triple-check everything I do before another soul sees it, we won’t make any progress on this project. I am capable. I am competent. I don’t need you to hold my hand like I’m a little girl.”

Smoke is practically billowing from her nostrils with the way she looks at me. “Are you sure it’s not about what happened?—”

“No.” The word is strong. Low. I can see the flash of hurt in her eyes. But she’s leaning back, sipping her cocoa again before I can press.

“And is this how you would have reacted to any other boss if they asked to check your work?” Because it doesn’t seem likely.

“Would you have checked another employee's work a mere hour before you’d be going over it with them anyway?” Paige locks on me, and I can see the real issue here. Not only had she not known I would be her boss, which is problem enough I suppose, but she doesn’t feel like she’s earned her job because I’m her father’s friend.

“No. Not likely.”

She spreads her hands as if to say,Well, there you go.

“Okay. Point taken.” I lean forward a little more. “Can we clear the air then? I hired you not only because your dad asked me for a favor, but because you were a good fit for the position. If you weren’t, don’t you think I could have given you a different job?”

Thawing a little, she pinches a crumb from her cookie and nibbles on it. “I suppose.”

“My goal this morning was to be sure you felt prepared before you had three executives pick apart every line of your prospectives. Not to make you feel like I didn’t think you could do a good job on your own.”

All of her upset seems to morph into a little pout—not bratty or petulant, but thoughtful. I rather enjoy the look on her actually.

“And you realize that I’m a recent college graduate who is very used to going in blind to a workshop to have my work ripped apart. I have thick skin, Henry. I had to grow it early and I don’t want any pity for it.”

We stare at each other for another few heartbeats before I nod. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Now finish up your breakfast. Eli will be in his office in roughly ten minutes.”

Finally, I get a small smile out of her as she munches on her shortbread. Every bite brings my attention back to her mouth and how pretty it is. I enjoy watching her eat far too much.

Paige stands before I’m ready, but I follow her lead this time. Sabrina texts me when we’re loading into the elevator, and we’re right on time to meet him and Jake in his office. He asks Paige to wait as we read through it, and she seems so cool as she sits there. She barely moves a muscle, and I can see where her confidence comes from.

Her write-up is good. Fantastic really. She has covered much more than I anticipated she would, and I only have a few notes. Eli seems equally as impressed, although Jake is as stoic as ever. Yet, when I catch an almost smile on his mouth, I have to wonder if it’s due to her realistic budget or her overall brilliance.

Once we’re ready for her, she’s poised with her own copy and a pen in hand, and I resolve not to ask her for her work in advance ever again.

After our meeting, I escort her back to her office and close myself in my own. Focusing on my other work doesn’t come easy. My thoughts are too wrapped up in Paige, in this morning, and in the past. I can’t stop the memory of her sweet mouth on mine, hand wrapped in my hair, hips grinding over my cock.

And that fucking thing has been cycling through being half-mast and full hard-on for the entire day.

I blame that appendage for my need to check to see if Paige is still here before I leave. Her door is cracked, and her steps echo as she paces. I tap lightly on her door, swinging it open wider.

She turns sharply, her arms crossed and small worries creasing around her eyes. “Hey.”

The soft greeting makes me smile. I like when she’s not upset with me, although I’m sure it’ll resurface the more we avoid talking about what happened.

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