Page 82 of The Grump

“I’m not cold, but this is cozy. I think I could even fall asleep here.”

“I’ll carry you to bed.”

“And miss the fire?” She seemed suspiciously alert all of a sudden, as if she’d just remembered the fire.

“It is, of course, the main attraction.”

She playfully narrowed her eyes. “Well, that depends...”

“Still need time to decide which one is your favorite?”

“Maybe. But you’re so smart, having your way with me in front of the fire. That makes it very hard for me to make up my mind.”

“Is that so?”

“You win, but only by a very slight margin.”

I smirked. “The night is young, I might convince you yet that I deserve to win by a very, very large margin.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Xander

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“Fucking hell, everyone is incompetent today,” I exclaimed on Friday evening, one week after having Bailey at my house. I’d been on edge ever since, wanting more and more of her. My temperament was insufferable.

My assistant poked her head in. “Xander, I heard you talking. Do you need something?”

“No, I was just talking to myself. Everyone sent me spreadsheets done incorrectly today. Three different people. What are the odds?”

She looked like she was about to burst out laughing.

“You know something, Lydia?”

“It might be because it’s Friday afternoon and a week away from Christmas.” She smiled apologetically. “I don’t think people are taking work too seriously.”

“Things still need to get done.”

“Well, I was actually about to tell you that I’m gone for the day unless you need something from me.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say, “It’s not even that late yet,” but then I noticed the time. It was five o’clock.

“Sure, have a great weekend.”

“You, too, Xander.” She started to leave and then turned around. “Um. Maybe a word of advice...”

“You know I’m always open to advice.”

“Don’t call or send people any more emails tonight. You’ll just get more frustrated. I really don’t think anyone else, even in the Orleans Conglomerate, is working.”

I couldn’t argue with that, because I’d sent three emails in the past half hour and didn’t get a single reply. Who stopped working at four thirty on a Friday?

I could only imagine what Bailey would have to say about it. Just thinking about her made me laugh at myself. She might have a point. I truly was a fucking Grinch, and I never thought I’d say that about myself. It was the last Friday before Christmas. Of course people probably had other things to do.

In fact, I no longer wanted to stay at the office either. Those spreadsheets needed fixing, but not tonight.

Speaking of spreadsheets, I opened the one Bailey sent me with her schedule. Bingo. I knew she had an event tonight. The note only said “children’s hospital,” but there was no hour listed, just “afternoon.” I was babysitting Bella, but only later, at eight o’clock. I wondered if Bailey was still there, and I decided to call her. She answered after five rings.

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