Page 45 of Ho Ho Oh No

Damn you, Google.

I remain unblinking, refusing to let him see the thin cracks in my facade. He may think he’s won with the threat of an internet search, but I’m confident in my ability to win the staring contest.

A solid five seconds pass with no victor emerging.

In my peripheral, I note the wiggle of his thumb over the screen. “Trying to taunt me with your thumb, Shep?”

“Go ahead and blink, and I’ll show you what else this thumb can do.”

I puff up my chest, partly to beckon his eyes downward and partly because I’m pissed that he’s resorting to sexual bribery. That’s cheap. Even for him.

If he can do it, so can I. “I already know what that thumb can do. It’s mediocre at best.”

“Liar.”

“Prove it,” I challenge.

His eyes widen, still unblinking. “Oh, I will, baby girl. As soon as you break the stare and tell me why you’re lying about the Rat Pack thing when we both know what you said. Once you come clean, you’ll get up close and personal with what my thumb can do. And all my other appendages too.”

“You blink first, and then I’ll let you show me.”

“That’s not how this works. You know you want to be good for me, baby girl.”

My upper cheek pulses with a burning need to blink and swoon. But I don’t because I won’t be swayed by his stupid pet name or promises to do delicious things to me. I’m stronger than that.

Probably.

Another five seconds pass. He inches closer until he’s pressed flush against me. My nipples stiffen to peaks, brushing against his pecs with each raspy breath I heave.

Has my office always been this warm? We should get someone to check the HVAC system.

His voice rumbles from the depths of his chest. “What’s wrong, baby girl? Having trouble breathing?”

I tip my chin upward, confidence wavering. “Fuck you, Shep.”

“You can do that right after you tell me why you’re lying.”

“Cocky bastard.”

“Naughty girl.”

He lifts the phone up to his face and presses the voice assistant button on the side. After the beep, he calmly says, “Call Klein.”

Okay, he isn’t searching the internet for the answer that’ll seal my fate.

Klein answers in his typically cheery tone but with a holiday flare. “Ho, ho, ho, hello. Have you been a good boy this year, Shepherd?”

Idiot. How that man has managed to snag my one true love, Mia, I’ll never know.

Grinning, Shep says, “Hey, asshole. Listen, I got a question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“The song from the movieMean Girls. What was it?”

“The one at the winter talent show?” Klein asks.

Shit. He clearly knows the movie. But will he know the song? Doubtful.

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