Page 49 of Their Christmas Miracle

Her hand trembled. She shoved the notes back in her wallet and shoved that back in her handbag. Turning her back to him, she went to the basin and began scrubbing her hands at the sink.

“I understand. This is a business. I get it.” But then, under her breath. “Fucking motherfuck.”

He suppressed a smile, took a slug of coffee, and let his eyes slide over Elle’s bent back.

Her suit clung to her. Her hair, those strands that had escaped her bun, were slicked against her head and throat. She had wide hips, but with breasts to balance them out. And her ass—

“I’ll just have to pay you in installments.” Her voice had returned to the willful, entitled tone of before.

Blake pulled his gaze up, meeting her eyes. God, no wonder her husband—

He immediately stomped on the thought. No woman deserved to be cheated on. Even one as obviously annoying and belittling as this one.

“Company policy, Elle. If I made an exception for you, I’d have to—”

“You’re the owner of the company.” Her voice was deadpan now. “I’m sure there’s some wiggle room—”

“There’s none. Either you pay and take your car, or I keep it until you do.”

God, if his dad could see him now. Arguing with a customer at half-past-seven on Christmas Eve. He’d never seen his dad argue with a customer. All it had taken was a smile, a calm explanation of fact, perhaps a cup of coffee — better than this one, of course — and the customer would be paying with a smile. Why hadn’t some of that charm rubbed off on him? He’d spent enough time with the old man before—

Blake pushed away from his desk and swept a hand toward the door. Elle stared at him as if he’d grown horns. Then she slowly set the towel down on the side of the basin, paused, and began working at the single button holding the front of her suit closed.

Blake frowned. “What are you…?”

“I’m sure—” She cleared her throat and dropped her eyes. “There must be something that I could…”

Realization dawned. And, with it, a sense of incredulity so vast that Blake barked out a laugh before he could stop himself. Elle’s eyes snapped up, the fiery blue of a welding torch.

“I’m sorry—” He said through a strangled laugh. He lifted a hand. “Are you seriously—”

Those eyes narrowed. “I need my car.” Her jaw clenched, her words emerging muffled. “And I need it today.”

“Whoa, lady. Listen—” he stepped forward, hand still up “—I don’t know why you’re so—”

“Today!” Elle stamped her foot.

Blake slowly folded his arms over his chest. Had she seriously just stomped her foot at him?

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