Page 29 of Under the Mistletoe
“Your uncle Bob’s a smart man. Speaking of, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
I pull in a deep breath, needing to release some tension.
“My parents are supposed to be here.” I take off my glasses and rub my eyes. From one hard scenario to another.
“Want to bail and come to my place?”
“No. I should see them. I haven’t seen them all year.”
“Shit, has it been that long?”
“Yep. Their visits have now become an annual thing.”
“Parents of the year right there.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, at least you’ve got your nice new scarf to keep you warm… Have you slept with it yet?” I pick up her double meaning.
“No. It’s for workplace attire only,” I confirm, and she giggles.
“Hmmm, not for long, by the looks of it.” Her grin is wicked as she waggles her eyebrows, and I throw my pen at her, happy to have her on my side.
“Oh…stop!” I tell her. “I need to get back to work.”
“Fine. But in all seriousness. Maybe stay clear of the break room for a while. Those marketing girls are bitches and don’t like to play nice.” She stands, and I give her a nod.
There’s no way in hell I’m stepping foot in that break room ever again if I can help it.
13
Donovan
I look at the time, noting it’s just past six. It’s already dark, and when I lean back in my chair, I look at the woman opposite me whose head has barely left her screen all afternoon.
“My mind is almost mush…” I scrub my eyes, wondering if I need another coffee.
“Here.” Her head remains on her screen as she leans over slightly into her handbag and pulls out a small packet.
“What is it?” I watch her open it, then she pours whatever’s inside into the small empty crystal bowl I have on my desk, the one that she’s currently filling with chocolate-coated coffee beans.
My eyebrows hit my hairline.
“You were running low.” She puts the empty packet in the bin, then continues to tap on her laptop. I remain still, blinking a few times before Bentley’s words from our lunch ring in my ears.
His thoughts about how he met his wife. How she picked up on the little things he enjoyed, like his lemon slice addiction, and without asking, ensured he had one every Friday. I didn’t understand it then. I didn’t get what he was trying to tell me. But seeing my bowl now full, the brand of coffee beans she bought my favorite. Not only has Jessica paid attention to me and what I enjoy, but she took time out of her day to grab me another packet. No one has ever done that before. No one besides my assistants anyway.
“Let’s go.” I stand, grabbing my jacket. Feeling antsy, knowing if I don’t move, my hands are going to be on her body in under a minute. The two of us were working hard all afternoon, yet I continually lost focus at every point because I couldn't stop looking at her.
“Go?” Her frown is cute, something I’m adding to the mental tally of sexy things my business advisor does each day.
“We need to eat.” I grab my cell and shoot off a text to Gordon and Ashley to arrange things.
“Oh…” As if she’s only now just remembering to eat, and her stomach grumbling tells me she may have missed lunch too.
I grab my briefcase as she puts her laptop in her bag and grabs her coat. I notice she hasn’t worn the new scarf today, and I try not to let that small detail play on my mind.
“Wait. You want to go for dinner? Together?” She pushes her glasses back up her nose and looks at me. I pause my rushed movements and drink her in. The way her lips part, waiting for my answer, the way her eyes widen like she doesn’t want to miss a thing. I swallow before I clear my throat.
