Page 14 of Christmas with Her Millionaire Boss

Maybe it wasn’t, but he’d fired the first shot.

Noelle’s coffee cup sat on the edge of the butcher-block island where she’d set it down earlier. Seeing the last quarter cup was ice-cold, she made her way to the coffee maker to top off the cup.

“What did you expect,” she said, reaching past him, “coming in here and announcing you were phasing out the Christmas Castle?”

“No, I said the castle was near the end of its lifespan. You’re the one who got all overprotective and jumped to conclusions.”

“Because you called it a fading tourist attraction.”

“I said no such thing.”

“Okay, maybe not out loud, but you were definitely thinking it.”

“Was I, now?” he replied with a snort. “I didn’t realize you were a mind reader.”

“Oh, please, I could hear it in your voice. I don’t have to be psychic to know you dislike the whole concept, even before you started making efficiency suggestions.”

She set the pot back on the burner, so she could look him square in the eye. The two of them were wedged in the small spot, their shoulders abutting. “Or are you going to tell me that’s not true?”

“No,” he replied, in an even voice, “it’s true. You shouldn’t take it personally.”

“Are you serious? Of course I’m going to take it personally. It’s Fryberg’s.” The store represented everything good that had ever happened in her life since she was seven years old. “You didn’t even want to keep the name!”

“I already conceded on that point, remember?”

“I remember.” And considering how quickly he conceded, he’d probably already decided he didn’t care. “That doesn’t mitigate the other changes you want to make.” The reindeer. Fryer. Those suggestions were the tip of the iceberg. Before anyone knew, her version of Fryberg’s would be gone forever.

“Forgive me for wanting to improve the store’s bottom line.”

“Our bottom line is perfectly fine.” As she glared into her coffee cup, she heard Hammond chuckle.

“So what you’re saying is that you all would have been better off if I’d stayed in Boston.”

“Exactly,” she gritted.

“And you wonder why I don’t want to stay in Fryberg.”

Noelle’s jaw muscles went slack. She looked back up in time to see Hammond tipping back the last of his drink. “I don’t make a habit of staying where I’m not wanted,” he said, setting the cup on the counter. “I’m certainly not about to start now. Would you mind if I grabbed that shower now? Then you can drop me off at the airstrip, and we’ll both be free from an uncomfortable situation.”

While he walked out of the kitchen, Noelle went back to contemplating the contents of her cup. She was waiting for a sense of relief to wash over her. After all, he was right; his leaving did free them both from an uncomfortable situation.

Why then wasn’t she relieved?

Maybe because your behavior helped drive the man out of town? her conscience replied as she rubbed away a sudden chill from her right arm.

Perhaps she had been...prickly. Something about the man got under her skin. Everything he said felt like a direct assault on her life. Between the company being sold and Belinda moving to Florida, she felt cast adrift. Like a part of her had been cut away. The only things she had left were the castle, the town and its traditions. Without them, she’d go back to being...

Nothing. No, she’d be worse than nothing. She’d be the nameless little girl whose mother left her in the stable. She’d rather be nothing.

Still, regardless of how angry Hammond made her, she still had a responsibility as a host. Belinda would have never been as argumentative and...well, as bratty...as she’d been.

She found Hammond in the living room folding last night’s cover. As he bowed his head to match one corner to another, he wobbled slightly, clearly off balance. A stab of guilt passed through her. No way was he better.

“You’re going to have to keep your head dry,” she said, taking one end of the afghan for him. After making sure the folds were straight enough, she walked her end toward him. “That glue the doctor used to cover your stitches needs to stay dry until tomorrow. I could draw you a bath though.” They met in the center, their fingers tangling slightly as he passed her his end.

“Anything that gets me clean works fine. Thank you.”

Hammond’s index finger ran along the inside of hers as he spoke. Coincidence, but Noelle got a tingle anyway. It had been a long time since a man’s fingers touched her even accidentally. “It’s the least I can do,” she replied.

---