Page 51 of My Secret Snowflake
And she just put her hand on his arm again.
“I think the timer just went off.” Ernest taps my arm.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“You looked like you were a million miles away.”
“A tricky cybersecurity incident at work,” I say. Thatiswhat I’m usually thinking about. And what I should be thinking about now. Instead of the way Sebastian laughs and how it sounds or makes me feel. Or the feel of his hand in the small of my back.
I pull on the festive red-and-green mitts and remove the cookies from the oven. Tessa puts in her tray next.
“The hedgehogs look great,” I say to Tessa.
“That’s admirable of you,” Ernest says to me. “To be thinking about that on the weekend when we may all lose our jobs by Christmas.”
“Is it really that bad?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I think our finances are okay. I mean, they took a hit when we didn’t make a profit on the last two movies, but our streaming revenues are still solid. It doesn’t make sense to me that L’Etoile bought us only for the IP. They definitely didn’t give that impression at the company retreat in France.”
The company retreat. That seems like a lifetime ago.
“Why bring us all out there and do all those team-building exercises if they intended to lay us off?” he asks.
Unless the whole point was for them to determine who to keep and who to get rid of.
I stare at Ernest. “That’s true. But Kevin is really freaked out about it.”
“I think at worst, we’ll have to cut a few positions. I doubt they’ll close us down. I’m not looking for another job yet.”
“That’s good,” I say. He sounds very sure.
I move the cooled cookies from the previous batch to a platter and then scoop off the cookies from the hot tray and put them on the cookie rack.
“When are you leaving for your Florida vacation?” I ask.
“You remembered,” he says.
“Of course,” I say. Does he think I have no memory? We just talked two days ago.
Ernest looks very earnestly at me.
But I can’t help but be distracted because Sebastian is back, with the dark-haired woman in tow. It’s like all my senses are on high alert.
“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Ernest asks.
I blink. That’s not what I was expecting.
“I’m sorry. I don’t date coworkers,” I blurt out, not thinking.
The thing is, I can’t date Ernest. Ishoulddate a solid, dependable guy. But I feel no chemistry between us. And it’s especially obvious when Sebastian shows up and my body sparks like a live wire.
It’s not that nausea is desirable, but I also don’t want to feel nothing.
“I’m so sorry,” I say again. “I just think it’s a bad idea.”
“No. That makes complete sense.” Ernest waves his hand as if to stop me from talking about it.
“But of course, we can be friends,” I say. Lame, I know.
