Page 8 of Flown in for Christmas

“Green Bay?” I’m so confused. “What’s wrong, Mr. Davis? Did something happen?”

He inhales deeply on the other end before he says, “Miss Bell, I need you to come to Wisconsin. This is an emergency. I understand it’s last minute and you’re probably spending time with family right now, but…I need you to get on a flight as soon as possible.”

An emergency? “What—”

“Please.” There’s clear desperation in his voice. If he was trying to hide it before, he isn’t now. “I’m begging you. I need you here.”

Need. He’s used that word one too many times in this very short conversation. I don’t think anyone’s ever told me theyneedme. A little voice inside my head reminds me that it’s Christmas. While another voice says Mr. Davisismy boss. It would look good for me to drop everything to come to his aid.

It’s also not like I have anything else going on at the moment.Clearly.

But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Okay,” I say, fumbling to find my tablet. “Let me just look up flights to—”

“No need,” he says, his tone sounding more than relieved. “I’ve got everything pulled up online. There’s a flight leaving in two hours that connects to Green Bay. I remember you saying you were in LA. Can you get to LAX in the next hour? I’ll book this right now while I have you.”

I fight back the urge to laugh hysterically. Considering I’m already here, it shouldn’t be a problem. “I can.”

He types quickly in the background as I relay all my information for him to enter. He emails the confirmation to me and I start walking to the kiosk to print out myfirst-classticket to Wisconsin.

“I’ll be there to pick you up from the airport,” he says. “I’ll watch the flight tracker, but text me with any delays.”

“I will,” I say, grabbing my ticket and getting in line to talk to someone about making sure my luggage is rerouted—assuming they ever find it.

“Thank you for doing this.” Mr. Davis blows out a breath. “You have no idea what this means to me. Truly.”

I smile. “Of course, Mr. Davis.”

There’s a long pause before he asks, awkwardly, “Are you, uh, seeing anyone right now?”

I freeze. That’s an…odd question to ask. “Um, no, I’m not.”

“Good,” he mumbles before adding, “I’ll see you soon…Joy.”

He hangs up the phone.

Why the heck is thatgood?

Four.

Nick

I wasn’t able toconvince a single family member to not come with me to the airport to pick up Miss Bell—Joy, I remind myself. Shit. I can’t be slipping up and calling herMiss Bellin front of my family.

Iwas, however, able to convince them to let me drive the rental car alone. While my parents, Natalie, Martina, Tucker, baby Izzy, Rich, Leah, and my Aunt Sara and Uncle Allen—who came in just in time for all the excitement—ride separately in a parade of vehicles.

And byexcitement, I mean my proposal to a woman Ibarely know.

We’ve worked together for the last three months, give or take, and I know nothing personal about her life or who she is outside the office. I’ve been in my own world since Dad’s diagnosis.

My mother tried to have me change into a suit for this, and somehow, I got out of it. Telling her Joy is asimple womanand she would rather I becomfortable—a complete assumption on my part. I couldn’t stop her from insisting I buy flowers to make some sort of ‘scene’ for when I proclaim my love, though.

I don’t know how this spiraled so out of control so damn quickly, because I’ve got a bouquet of two dozen red roses in my passenger seat and a box of fresh petals to lay at my feet on the spot I’ll be proposing to her.

In the middle of the airport.

My phone rings and I hit the Bluetooth connected to my rental to answer, “Hey, Rich. Did you get her HR file?”

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