Page 5 of Her Christmas Monsters

Fabulous.

Chapter Three

Mymindisacomplete mess as I take the elevator back down to the fifth floor. I fake a smile to the few coworkers I know as they get on at different floors, my body on autopilot.

I was so sure that this would be it, that if everything went right the promotion was mine. But now the chance seems to be slipping through my fingers, and there is nothing I can do about it.

Well that’s not entirely true. I can fight for it. I can rise to this seemingly impossible task and show that asshole that I can take anything he throws at me.

When the elevator dings at the fifth floor, I step out with a spring in my step that hadn’t been there before.

“Clara,” Ethan exclaims as I slip into my cubicle and he follows after me. He leans against my desk as I sit, our positions nearly identical to how they’d been just before that call when we almost—

Nope. I can’t think about that.

“What happened?” His face creases with concern as he scans me over, clearly sensing something went wrong.

“Well he called my designs and ideas uninspired but adequate,” I whisper, not wanting anyone else to overhear us.

“What?” Ethan launches from the desk like he’s about to march up to the executive floor right now.

“Shh,” I hiss and grab his arm, urging him to sit back down. He lowers reluctantly, his eyes flicking between me and the elevator as though he might be able to make a break for it.

I cautiously withdraw my hand, not wanting a repeat of what happened earlier. Well I mightwantit, but it can’t happen. Especially not after that meeting.

“That’s not even the worst part,” I sigh, and untie the elastic band still keeping my hair up. I let a groan of relief slip past my lips at the ease of pressure against my scalp as my locks fall around my shoulders.

“What was it then?” Ethan asks, snapping my attention back to him. He shifts uncomfortably, a pained look crossing his face for only a moment before it disappears.

“He wants me to redo the design for the flagship mall,” I whisper, and roll my shoulders, wishing he’d waited to give me that massage. I seriously need it now with all the tension bunching in my taut muscles.

“This close to setup?” He swallows thickly, not meeting my eyes.

“Yeah.” I decide to rub some of the knots out myself and exhale as a fraction of my tension eases away. “I have two days to come up with a new, creative idea or he’ll find someone else.”

“What a prick,” Ethan groans, but he almost seems distracted by something. “Does he even have any idea how long it will take to get in the supplies, let alone figure out the budget and the exact numbers? Not to mention the revamp of marketing materials.”

“He doesn’t care,” I say, and give up on the massage to lean back in my chair. “He’s like any other exec. They want what they want regardless of how unrealistic it is, and we’re the ones who have to make miracles happen.”

“Well, Clara, if you can’t figure this out, I’m not sure anyone else can,” he says, and a wide smile stretches across his face that I can’t help but mirror.

“Yeah, I’m not going down without a fight.” That flicker of determination lights back up in my chest. “I’m going to give it my all, and if he isn’t happy with my ideas I know another employer in this city will be.”

“Like I said before, you’re not in this alone,” Ethan says, hopping up from the desk. “Let’s get back to following up with the stores and the suppliers and brainstorm about this tonight over drinks?”

My pulse races as I run his words over in my head, a jolt of excitement sending my heart into overdrive.It’s for work Clara. It’s not a date, I remind myself, but it does nothing to quell the nervous energy thrumming through me.

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Have you been here before?” Ethan asks as I slide onto the bench seat of the horseshoe-shaped booth.

I glance around the cocktail bar. “I think maybe once for drinks with the team.” It has a dark, seductive theme to it with the wood furniture and black wallpaper with gold patterns. I’ve been working at the Ainsworth corporation for five years, but Ethan has only been part of the team for two—and while we sometimes go out for celebratory drinks together after the launch of a successful campaign, most of us have gotten too busy in our day-to-day lives to do it often anymore.

“Hmm, we should definitely come here again,” he says, as he too takes in the darkly-lit lounge.

My stomach flips at the comment, and I bite back the questions at the tip of my tongue and instead just hum a sound of agreement.

Everything is so confusing with Ethan, but now is not the right time to find out if he meant alone or with the team. Nope. I need to be one hundred percent focused on the launch of the holiday displays and not at the man grinning gleefully back at me, his warm brown eyes twinkling with delight as he opens the thin bar menu.

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