Page 2 of Mr. Naughty And Mrs. Nice

Cassie would say it looks magical out there. All I see are bodies clogging up the sidewalks, which makes it hard to move, and annoying snow that will inevitably turn to slush just waiting to get my socks soaking wet.

“I’m desperate here,” I say as I swivel back around. “I’m in the thick of work. I don’t want to go back to Vermont and sleep in my old single bed with the wires jabbing into my back. Can you just call her? Please?”

Cassie rolls her eyes as she sits on my desk and hits the speaker button on my phone. “We’ll call her together. Best I can do. You tell her. I’ll be here for support.”

She dials the number off by heart.

“How often do you talk to my mom?” I ask, looking at her with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

“Shhhhh,” she says, blowing me off. “It’s ringing.”

“How often?” I ask a little louder.

“Hello?” my mom answers, saving her.

“Hey, Linda, it’s Cassie.”

“Hi, Cassie!” Mom says, her voice lighting up. “Did you show Quinn those Tinder profiles I sent you? What did he think of the redhead?”

“Mom!” I shout, nearly leaping out of my chair.

“Busted,” Cassie says with a nervous laugh. “Quinn is here too.”

“Are you guys trying to find me a girl behind my back?”

“No, honey,” Mom says in a soothing tone. “We’re trying to find you a wifebehind your back.”

“I don’t want a wife,” I say, feeling like this call is already unraveling. See,thisis why I don’t want to go home right now. I’d rather just get lost in my work. That I can control.

“Did you put up the Christmas decorations I sent you?” she asks.

“Yes,” I lie. I shoved the boxes under the stairs at my penthouse. My place is pristine and professionally decorated, and I don’t need a bunch of cheap glittery crap cluttering everything up. I peeked into one box and it was a carving of a big ugly Santa. Why would I want a carving of an old man staring at me in my home? No, thank you.

“Put them up,” Mom says. “Christmas spirit is important. Cassie, will you make sure he does?”

“On it,” Cassie says with a grin.

“Now, why are you calling me at ten o’clock?” Mom asks in a pointed tone. “I hope it’s not for the reason I think it is because that would break my heart. I mean, how many Christmases do I have left? Five? Three? Less?”

“Mom, you’re fifty-nine and perfectly healthy.”

“You never know what’s around the corner.”

I look up at Cassie for help. She just shrugs.

I guess I just have to rip off this bandaid fast.

“Mom, I’m closing on a big deal?—”

“Let me stop you right there,” she says abruptly. “You’re not canceling.”

My stomach drops.

“You’re getting into your car tomorrow morning and you’re driving back home. Got it?”

I stare at the phone in panic, trying to come up with something to say.

“Your sister is coming all the way from Hawaii to be here,” Mom says sharply. “You can drive from New York City. It’s only a six hour drive.”

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