Page 19 of Holiday Hoax

“It’s not going to my head. I just would have thought I was too old for you.”

“Celebrity men older than you date women younger than me all the time. I personally find George Clooney and Harrison Ford to be extremely handsome. Jeff Goldblum, for that matter, too.”

“Jeff Goldblum?” His brows rise nearly to his hairline. “I’m hotter than Jeff Goldblum.”

“I plead the fifth.” I mime zipping my lips and throwing away the key. There’s no way this conversation goes anywhere productive if we keep talking about it. He doesn’t need to realize just how attractive I find him. “Back to the art. I love these pendant lights on either side of the bed. What if I found some unique glass work to create a piece instead of using the ones you have now?”

“That could work. Nothing too out of the box for here though. I want to keep the ambiance peaceful.”

“I can do that. When do you want to stop by the gallery?” I finish jotting down a few dimensions and ideas on the pad and then flip the cover closed.

He pulls out his phone and flips through his schedule. “I don’t have any late meetings on Wednesday or Thursday.”

“Six?”

“That works. We can grab dinner after.”

“Perfect.”

“Mr. Jameson?” Marta calls from the hall.

“Yes.” He stands from the bed as she walks into the room.

“I put dinner out for you and your date.”

“Oh, I’m not his date.” My cheeks warm as I stand.

“Date or no, you still eat the food I cook.” She looks at me the same way my nonna would have. Her attention turns to Ian. “It’s sausage and roasted root vegetables, very hardy.”

His eyes sparkle as he turns back to me. “You definitely want to stay for this. Plus, it beats ramen or peanut butter and jelly.”

The scent of herbs and spices reaches my nose as we walk down the hallway away from the bedroom. It does smell good, and if I’m not mistaken, I smell freshly baked bread as well. The sun has sunken beneath the horizon, so it is time to eat, I might as well have the delicious food being offered.

“It does smell infinitely better than microwaved ramen, that’s for sure. I’ll stay.”

CHAPTER 7

IAN

Today has beenone of those days where everything that could go wrong, did. The only thing getting me through the endless meetings and calls with overseas vendors was thinking about the easy company I’ll have for the evening. I did manage to drop Mia’s name a few times throughout the day, though. Lending more legitimacy to our relationship as well as mentioning her work at the gallery.

Derrick even suggested having a dinner party at my penthouse for the entire board after Mia helps me pick pieces for the space. I had a nice bottle of scotch sent to his house as a token of my appreciation. I’ve had several assistants over the years, and none of them have been remotely as sharp as he is. If he ever figures out how vital he is to my business, he’d easily have me by the balls to renegotiate his contract.

Now, as a cherry on the shit sundae that today has been, traffic is a nightmare, so I tell my driver to let me out a few blocks from the gallery. It’ll be faster on foot.

Wind whips between the buildings with its icy fingers cutting through the wool of my suit jacket. I’m not dressed for a walk, but that can’t be helped. It was clear this morning, but as the day has gone by heavy clouds have gathered over the city, threatening rain. At least it’ll be warm where I’m going, the thought brightening my mood.

As soon as my hand wraps around the handle of the front door, my eyes find Mia through the glass. The immediate happiness I feel is instantly tempered by the sight of Sloppy Simms leering down at her while they stand at the front desk. She seems to be showing him something in a brochure, but his eyes are locked on her face.

I rip the door open harder than necessary and stalk across the space between us. She looks up at me and smiles as I approach. Her lips are still parted in a smile as I pull her body away from him and cover her mouth with my own.

Her cheek is warm and smooth as I cup it with my palm. I feel her surprised gasp and swallow it down as my tongue slides against hers. Her body stiffens with shock for several seconds, and then she decides to play along, melting against me and tilting her head to give me better access.

I know this kiss is just fake.

But, fuck me, is she good at it.

It’s the type of kiss that consumes you. That erases the world until it’s just the two of you and your bodies become one. If we were alone, I’d have her pinned against the nearest flat surface while my hands wandered up her thighs to discover what secret delights she’s hiding under those prim clothes.

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