Page 70 of A Very Bossy Christmas
“Yeah yeah, really big of ya. Listen, it’s grand that you got yourself a fine thing now, and we’re all happy for ya what with your brother riding Hannah all year. But we’re here to celebrate Brady getting married, eh? So bunk off, bring the bird, and get yer arse over here.”
“I will definitely do that tomorrow.”
They both curse me, and I hear the car door open and my brother’s voice. “Hey. Who are you calling?…Dec? Are they giving you shit for not being here? Don’t even worry about it—you’ve got work to do. I can handle them until tomorrow.”
“It definitely sounds like you’ve got it under control over there.”
He whispers into the phone, “Help me, bro. Aiden and Casey are no fucking use to me, and Eddie won’t be here until tomorrow. I’ll be dead by sundown if you aren’t here as a buffer.”
“I feel for you, Brady, I do. But I have so much work to catch up on. I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise.”
“Don’t even sweat it—we’ll see you tomorrow.”
I hear Billy yell out “cocksuckah” right before he hangs up. I’m a shit brother. I do love the guy, but he did start riding my ex right after we broke up, and I really have a lot of work to catch up on.
They still haven’t taken down the Christmas decorations at the Sentinel corporate offices yet, and the building’s still piping in cheesy canned holiday music, but it doesn’t bother me anymore. I nod at the temp receptionist when I walk off the elevator and say, “Morning. Happy holidays.” She looks really surprised because I didn’t say anything to her when I saw her on Christmas Day. Because on Christmas Day, I knew I wouldn’t be seeing Maddie Cooper at her desk. Today I will. And even though I won’t be doing anything unprofessional to her on that desk, today will be a good day. As long as the other shoe doesn’t drop.
It looks like there are a few other random people working today, or maybe they just don’t have anywhere better to be. What’s-his-name in accounting. Purple-haired lady in marketing who seems cool, but I forget her name. British lady who brings the good tea for the break room and is either named Louise or Hermione. I should probably go around and introduce myself to everyone one of these days. I like it here.
And there she is. The woman who saved Christmas. The woman who handles me with the sleek, unruffled grace of a manga geisha drawn by a total pervert. She’s wearing that same fucking outfit she wore when she traveled to Cleveland. The sweater dress. The boots. Different black see-through tights, obviously, because I ripped the other ones to shreds. She’s got the same welcomingI dare you to mess with me right nowsmirk on her face that she’s greeted me with ever since I hired her.
She’s standing by her desk with a coffee mug in one hand, her other hand resting just above her hip, right where I was gripping her on my kitchen counter earlier. This is working for me. We can do this.
“Morning, Cooper.”
“Good morning, Mr. Cannavale.” She hands me theWorld’s Best Bossmug. It’s strong and black, just the way I like it.
“Nice orchids.”
“Thanks. A very thoughtful asshole gave them to me.” She follows me into my office and leaves the door open. “I printed out your call sheet, and I’ve already replied to a few emails that you don’t have to deal with.”
I fucking love youis what I want to say. “Thanks. Did you see that Drucker actually closed a deal in the Hamptons yesterday? I’ll have to talk to him later.” I wait for her to tell me he’s already on my call sheet or that she’s already responded to his stupid email question for me. But she doesn’t.
When I glance up at her, she isn’t smirking and she isn’t smiling. She isn’t staring at me with heavy-lidded eyes and heaving breasts. She isn’t even frowning at me in that way that makes me want to tug on her hair and really give her something to frown about. She isn’t doing any of the things I like to see her do in response to me. She’s frowning at me in an entirely new way that I don’t like at all. I know that frown. I’ve seen that frown on another woman’s face, and the words that come out of that frowny mouth next are never good.
“You okay?”
It takes her a moment, but she snaps out of her unpleasant musing and answers, “Yeah. Let me know when you’re ready to roll calls. I’m just going through the Hamptons contract for you right now.” And with that, she leaves my office and shuts the door. One second later, she opens the door again. “Sorry, did you want this open or closed?”
“Open.”
“Right.” She goes back to her desk and doesn’t look over at me once she sits down.
Which is probably fine.
Either that or it’s terrible.
I mean, I did tell her we wouldn’t be discussing our extracurricular activities at the office.
And I don’t have time to wonder what’s up, because of the shit-ton of calls and emails and the half a shit-ton of contracts I have to go over before we leave for Cleveland. Maddie knows this better than anyone. Which is why she’s leaving me alone to let me work instead of getting into a discussion about her feelings. Which is why she’s the best assistant I’ve ever had. Which is why I don’t want to lose her.
* * *
After a few hours of powering through the most urgent calls and emails and skimming through a few contracts, I get up to stretch my legs. Standing just inside my doorway, I wait for Maddie to look up from her computer monitor. She doesn’t seem to be typing or reading. She’s just staring ahead.
“Should we order lunch?” I ask, startling her.
She contemplates this for an excruciatingly long time, like I’ve asked her if she ever wants to eat lunch again for the rest of her life. “Hang on,” she finally says. She stands up and rounds her desk, heading toward me. She gestures for me to step aside, walks into my office, and shuts the door.
