Page 16 of Under the Mistletoe
“It keeps me focused. No need to concentrate on anyone else. But yeah, it can be a little… isolating…”
I guess in his job, he does need to be hyperfocused on what he does, but at least I have my aunt and uncle and Shelley.
“I don’t really have a lot of people in my circle either.”
“You seem to know a lot of people at the office,” he says, and I frown at his assumption before he clarifies. “I saw you saying goodbye to the security guard on duty tonight.”
“Oh, Frank. He’s a nice guy. Always on night duty. I like walking into work in the morning and seeing his smiling face. It’s a nice way to start the day. Puts me in a positive space, you know?”
“I didn’t… until this morning…” I swallow roughly as his eyes lock on mine again. The memory of our shared morning hunched over the computer and working together was something new for both of us. We clicked immediately, being on the same page, agreeing to almost every new idea we came up with. My heart rate escalates as my brain catches up to his meaning.
My cell buzzes and cuts through our tension, and I pull it out, seeing a message from my mom. I don’t get many of them, so it’s unusual. As I read it, I frown. They’re coming for a visit. No date, no idea when. But swinging past to say hello before they take off again, no doubt. I love them but hate their visits. Not because I don’t enjoy seeing them and hearing about their adventures, but because it’s a reminder that I mean less to them than almost every other part of their life. The fact that they can be casual parents, never around for me when I need them, but flowing in and out of my life like a soft breeze whenever they feel like it, makes me unsettled. I already know they aren’t going to like me working at York Enterprises. They hate anything to do with Corporate America.
“Everything okay?”
Startled, I look at him, forgetting he was there for a moment, and I plaster on a fake smile.
“Sure. Just ahhh… just my mom.” I slide the phone back into my bag. I’ll respond to her later.
“Not someone you like to hear from?”
The mere topic of my parents makes my neck tight. “No. Yes… I mean, it’s fine. She’s fine.” I blow out my breath, my shoulders slumping. My energy’s waning, the long day making my mind and body tired, the warmth at my back doing little to keep me awake.
“I just have to take this,” he says, lifting his own phone, before he starts a call with someone from a fashion house in Paris from what I can gather. I lean my head back and look out the window, tuning him out, and as I watch the wet city streets fly by, my eyes grow heavy. With the warmth and gentle rocking of the car, coupled with his deep, calm voice, I can’t keep my eyes open. I fight it until I can’t anymore, and before I know it, I’m asleep.
“Jessica… Jessica…”
I hear my name and slowly come to. As my eyes flutter open, I hear the rain, the kink in my neck telling me I’ve slept somewhere other than my bed. I’m leaning against a hard surface, the scent of which sparks a memory. I notice a pair of black trousers and a crisp white shirt. I’m leaning against a man’s chest, his arm draped over me, and I jolt up, startled.
“Oh my God.” I look around frantically, seeing us parked outside my apartment block, the rain teeming down, yet we’re completely warm and dry.
“You fell asleep about twenty minutes ago. I didn’t want to wake you.”
Kill me. Kill me now.
“I’m so sorry…” I swallow, my mouth feeling like cotton wool, my heart pounding. Was I dribbling on his shirt? “I didn’t mean to.” I’ve never slept on a man like that before. Clearly working so much today has taken a toll.
“You looked peaceful,” he says, voice softer than I’ve heard it.
As my cheeks feel like they bloom crimson red, I become acutely aware that he now needs to drive all the way back to the city before he gets home. Quickly, I grab my things.
“Again, I'm so sorry…” I can’t look at him. I’m too embarrassed. Who sleeps on their boss? In the back of his car. Although he didn’t move me, I was clearly leaning on him for a while, and given the warmth I feel on my shoulder and the way he moved when I woke, I think he tucked me into his side. It felt nice. I felt safe.
“Gordon will be here at eight in the morning to pick you up.”
My head scrambles to remember what’s happening as my eyes snap to his. I have no idea what I look like, but it’s definitely not my best. “Um, what?” I’m confused.
“The commute via the train is too long, too cold, and at night, too dangerous. So I’m allocating Gordon to you. He’ll now be your driver.”
I look at him like he’s crazy. I must be dreaming. This isn’t happening. Donovan York is giving me his driver?
“We have a busy few months scheduled. Travel, meetings, a new acquisition strategy to develop. We’re going to have late nights, early mornings, and the weather isn’t going to get any better.”
“I can’t…”
“Gordon will be here to collect you in the morning.”
At that, Gordon opens his door, and with an umbrella at the ready, he opens mine. The embarrassment of falling asleep on my boss is clouded by the complete bewilderment I have of him offering me a car and driver for my tenure. I try to reconcile it in my mind. Maybe he does this for all his executive team? But I already know that’s not true. I went through all their expenses and not even one of the executive team members had their own driver.
