Page 1 of Mr. Naughty And Mrs. Nice

CHAPTER ONE

Quinn

Igroan when I hear Christmas bells ringing seconds before Cassie walks into my office. My perky assistant isobsessedwith Christmas. It’s so annoying.

She’s wearing oversized elf ears and a matching glittery green hat.

“Don’t we have a dress code?” I grumble.

“Christmas spirit trumps office policy,” she says as she places a steaming mug on my desk. “Here’s your coffee.”

I frown when I see a candy cane sticking out of it.

“I bought presents for everyone,” Cassie says as she arranges the files on my desk. “Your executives got plush bathrobes along with a weekend away at a spa.”

I’m barely listening as she goes off, telling me about each present she bought, wrapped, and sent for me from my employees down to the doorman at my building.

She’s interrupted when Michael Bublé starts singing out of her phone about the magic of Christmas.

“Let me get rid of that,” she says as she sends the call to voicemail.

Cassie can be a bit much with her Christmas obsession, but she does come in handy this time of year, handling everything I don’t want to. I’d rather fast-forward through the Holidays and get straight into January.

I pay this lady multiple six figures a year and she still works as an elf at the mall on weekends with her dorky husband for fun. They love it. I can’t imagine why. Getting paid minimum wage to stand in fake snow in the most embarrassing outfits imaginable in a crowded mall surrounded by greedy children and stressed-out adults… I’ll never understand.

“I printed out the best route for your drive home tomorrow,” she says, pulling out a paper and putting it on my desk. “You’ll be on the I-91 North most of the time. If you leave early there won’t be too much traffic.”

I sigh as I glance at the instructions.

I’m in the middle of negotiating a significant deal and I can’t get away right now. It’s going to put fifteen million dollars in my pocket if I get it done before next week. Granted, I’m already a billionaire, but every million counts.

“I’ve decided not to go,” I say as I type up an email.

Cassie purses her lips and narrows her eyes on me like she’s trying to use her power of Christmas to soften my cold, dead heart.

“What?” I say, exasperated. “I’m in the middle of a deal.”

“You’re always in the middle of a deal.”

I just shake my head. “What do you want from me? It’s not a good time to get away.”

“Does your mom know about this?” she asks, crossing her arms.

I feel a little nauseous all of a sudden.

“I was hoping you could let her know,” I say, cringing.

She shakes her head. “I don’t get paid enough for that.”

“She loves you!”

“She won’t after that call.”

I sigh heavily as I loosen my tie. “Want a raise?”

“Yes, but I’m still not calling her.”

I lean back in my chair and swivel around toward the huge, floor-to-ceiling windows, sighing as I look out at Manhattan all decked up in festive Christmas lights. So many smiling faces in the walking crowds. Almost everyone is holding at least one fancy bag, some holding a dozen or more as light, fluffy snowflakes drift down from the night sky.

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