Page 23 of Meet Me on Christmas Eve

“Well, you weren’t there—”

“No, but I know you, Mari.”

I scowled. “Whose side are you on?”

She sighed, scooting closer to me on the couch and giving me a quick side hug before settling back on her side. “Yours, dummy. You know that. I think … you don’t realize sometimes how you come across.”

I stiffened. “I’m very self-aware.”

“I think you’re aware of your own perception.”

My brows furrowed as I considered what she was saying. Was it true?

She might have a point. Maybe.

“Fine, maybe I was too demanding. Maybe confronting him at work wasn’t ideal. Now he’ll never forgive me—is that what you’re saying? This is all doomed to fail?”

She laughed. “Not at all. In fact, the dynamic shifted at the end, and that’s to our advantage, I think.” At my blank look, she added, “He got the last laugh. Literally.”

“As in, watching me fall on my face in the snow? Yeah, thanks for that reminder. How the hell is that helpful?” I set my fried rice on the end table, too frustrated to eat.

“Because even if you were bossy or domineering earlier, the scene ended with you in a vulnerable position. He might’ve laughed, but I’ll bet he also felt some empathy. Andthatwe can work with.”

“I didn’t detect a trace of empathy, Hazel. Trust me, he just thought it was hilarious.” And probably labeled me a klutz in his mind.

“Of course you didn’t detect it, Mari. You weren’t meant to. He’s not the type to wear his heart on his sleeve.” She took a sip of her drink and then mumbled, “Like someone else I know.”

“I heard that,” I said, but I smiled a bit. It was part of his appeal, I think. Ithad beenpart of his appeal. Nothing about him was appealing now. Well, except those lean lines of his face, that jaw and the rare smile, the hair that just begged to be tugged, the pecs that—

“What are you thinking about?” Hazel asked.

My eyes widened. “Nothing.”

“Right.” She arched an eyebrow and then shook her head. “So, I think you have to butter him up.”

“Butterhim up?” I asked, my voice rising. I tried to block out the inappropriate images that came to mindunbidden.

Crap. What was happening to me?

I felt my cheeks redden and some other uncomfortable heat throughout my body.

Hazel was peering at me, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. “Yes. You know, be nice to him. Catching flies with honey.”

“Oh,” I croaked. “I see—that’s … I don’t know if I can do that.” I cleared my throat.

She tilted her head. “Are you all right, Mari?”

“I’m fine,” I said, too quickly. I took a steadying breath. “I just don’t know if I’m capable of being nice tohim. He doesn’t deserve it.” Yes, remember that. He doesn’t deserve any of my thoughts, certainly not sexy ones. I needed to rein this innow.

“Really? I’ve known you for years, Mari, and I’ve seen you be polite and kind to some of the most awful human beings over the years. Rich assholes who would sell their mother to make a profit. Well, maybe not nice exactly—you don’t tolerate bad behavior—but polite at least. You’ve dealt with much worse than Terry Grand.”

“Grant,” I mumbled.

“What?”

“It’s—never mind. I guess you’re right.”

She wasn’t right though. All those other assholes were just assholes that I’d never cared about. But Terry … we had a past. And it needed to stay in the past.

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