Page 75 of A Break in Communications

“Asking for me to pass a message along that she’s going to get over her, actually.”

She raised her eyebrows. “That’s bold. And ambitious. Do we think she’ll pull it off?”

“Ah… eventually. There’s a big club of people out there trying to get over Veronica. Maybe they can meet together, support each other.”

She beamed. “Well, if you believe in her, then I do too. So… any last-minute assignments for me from the boss? Before we have our big moment.”

I sighed, narrowing my eyes, studying her for a while, before I pushed my chair back, resting my hands in my lap. “One thing, actually.”

“Hm?”

“I’m starving. There’s a place in town that does comfort food, and I need a massive pile of mashed potatoes and gravy to get me through to tomorrow. I trust you’ll be able to accompany me.”

She smiled wider, studying me for a long time, before she said, “Preston, have you ever asked anyone on a date, or is it always coached like this?”

I looked away. “I didn’t say a date. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, of course. Well, I’d love to be the serious professional to escort you to a pile of mashed potatoes, Miss Preston. Right now?”

I quirked a smile, but I kept my gaze out the window. “I have a few things I need to finish up…”

“Things that you can finish up at your apartment while I keep your coffee topped up, I’m sure. While I’m around to make sure you can navigate the perils of… mashed potatoes.”

Well. She made a terribly tempting offer. After all, with that level of convenience, how could I say no? I weighed the cost-benefit analysis of it for a while before I gave her a smallhmand stood up, picking my laptop up off the desk. “You do make a better coffee than anything I can get in this place,” I said lightly. “I suppose there’s no time to waste.”

She slid off the desk, and my heart caught when she stepped forward, slipping a hand to my hip. “We have a minute or two to waste,” she whispered, and I melted in an instant, softening into her with a soft murmur as she bent in and pressed a kiss to my cheek, and then to my jaw, and then just below theline of my jaw, her lips soft on the top of my neck. “It’s never enough, but… I’m not about to give up what we do have.”

“Mm. God, you’re distracting,” I laughed softly, eyes half-lidded.

“You think I managed to get anything done today thinking about you? And about last night?” she whispered. “Callingmedistracting… it’s a good thing we barely had anything to do today, you know.”

“Sounds like you’re letting me get ahead…”

“That’s why I’m in here trying to distract you too,” she breathed, kissing lower, down to the base of my neck and along my collarbone. “Can’t let my mortal enemy get a leg up on me.”

“I’m sure you’d like my leg up on you.”

I’d just been trying to throw her off, see her reaction, but she went with it—hooked her hand around my thigh, and I gasped as she lifted my leg up, pressing my thigh against her side, wrapping me around her as she leaned back against the desk. “Not half-bad,” she said. “Good judgment call, Preston.”

“Okay—do we have a safe word? Because I actually do really need some dinner and we’re never making it out of the office if we do this—”

She laughed, slipping her hand up my thigh for one little thrill that had my heart racing and a kiss just below the center of my collar before she let me go, setting me back on solid ground, which suddenly felt less solid than before. “Well, let’s get you safely to your pile of mashed potatoes,” she said. “And we can discuss the safe word once we get back to your apartment.”

Sounded like a pretty long-term investment. Why would we only now be discussing a safe word if we were done with this after tomorrow?

That was hardly the first thing on my mind. Not after I’d just had a… leg up on Lucy.

∞∞∞

Apparently Kelcey had convinced someone with the event planners to help us unload our Christmas lights, because the press release was… bright. Wasn’t as bad as the office holiday party had been, but it was certainly merry and bright.

We’d booked the event space out at a hotel for the press release, and the events team we’d worked with hadn’t spared a single detail. The place was beautifully decorated, festive without being excessive, thick red curtains strung with lights, a big Christmas tree on either side of the lectern with simple silver decorations, and plenty of smiling faces as everybody involved was following our lead and using this as the last big piece of work before holiday breaks, everyone looking far more cheerful than they otherwise would on a weekday evening.

I got there a good half-hour before it was slated to start, but it was already getting busy, the event staff mixing with our office and the executives from PR and Outreach, and I even got my thrice-a-year sighting of our own company president and CEO Michael Berg, who smiled warmly at me when I met him at the side of the stage, the Christmas tree separating us from the camera crews and first of the business and tech reporters showing up.

“Anna, how are you doing?” he said. “Sean says your trial run as Executive Communications Director has been spotless, and judging by this, I’m inclined to believe him.”

I heard myself idly say the last thing I’d have expected myself to a month ago, and I said, “I wouldn’t have made any of it happen without Lucy Masters.”

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