Page 11 of One Foggy Christmas
“I just thought you’d want every account possible. You know, to make more money.”
“First rule of business:”—he turns to face me, and I’m keenly aware of how little the seven inches between us are—“you’re only as good as the clients you represent. I don’t want to staff a facility that’s not a great place to work.” He hands the folder back to me. “So let’s pass on this one. We’ll find something better, and when we do, we’ll celebrate over a can of Spaghetti-Os.” The playfulness in his smile revs up my heartbeats even more.
“They’re gross, right? That’s why you keep bringing it up.”
“I’m not going to ruin your Spaghetti-Os coming-out party by giving you my opinion just to pre-determine yours. It takes the fun out of trying something new. I’m all about the journey.”
Trying something new. All about the journey.
This is exactly the kind of shake-up I’ve been looking for in my life. I just didn’t expect it to come from my cute boss.
We’re staring at each other, smiling, and it’s like the walls of my cubicle close in on us. Suddenly, everything feelstoointimate. I step back to drop the Green Acres folder on the credenza.
“Is this your family?” He plants his hands on my desk and leans down, looking at the picture pinned up on the fabric wall by my computer. It’s of us in front of Skaneateles Lake.
“Yeah, that’s my parents; my brother, Tate; and my little sister, Annie.”
“Annie looks like a younger version of you.”
“I know.” I make my way to his side, wanting to look at the picture with him as if I’ve never seen it. “If we were closer in age, I think people would mistake us as twins.”
“How old is she?”
“Seventeen. She’s just starting her senior year in high school.”
“And Tate? Is he a big Cubs fan?”
“No, that was his first game. He drove me out here. We decided to catch the game last minute before he flew home.”
“That was nice of your brother to help you move to Chicago when he didn’t think you should take the internship.”
“Oh, Tate was the only one who was all for it. He’s Team Sadie.” I smile, thinking about the unconditional love my big brother always gives me. “Whatever I want, he wants. No questions asked.”
“And is this Stetson?” His focus moves to a picture of us in front of the tree last Christmas. We’re both wearing ugly sweaters and giant smiles.
“Uh, yeah.” I rub the back of my neck, feeling twisty about Nash staring at a picture of Stetson and me.
“Thekind ofboyfriend you’re still loyal to even though he broke up with you.” He shoots me a sideways glance.
“If it makes you feel any better, Tate wanted me to keep your number.”
His head inclines toward me. “Tate’s not pro-Stetson?”
“He was until Stetson gave me an ultimatum about Chicago. Now Tate is pro me experiencing new things, including the charming stranger at the Cubs game.”
“I knew I liked your brother.” His smile stretches wider. “And did you just admit that I’m charming?”
“You don’t need me to admit that. You already know you’re charming and happily lean into it.”
“But it’s more fun hearing you say it.”
I should probably check my pulse after that smile Nash gave me—just to make sure I’m still alive and well.
He glances back at Stetson’s picture. “You know, I take back what I said about him having a punchable face.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, he actually looks like a broke Henry Cavill.”
