Page 1 of Mr. Right Under the Mistletoe

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Sydney

Afamiliar deep baritone voice echoed down the hallway and I froze mid-presentation. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Nick freaking Milton. Sexy-as-hell former running back for New England—and my ex-boyfriend.

What the hell was he doing back here?

Sure, he’d been amazing and we’d hit it off from the start, back when I was still working at my old PR firm. So what? That fairytale ended badly when Nick got traded to Arizona, leaving me behind on the east coast. Between the demands of his career and mine, it was almost impossible to coordinate our schedules for a quickie, let alone a real relationship.

So I did what I had to do to protect myself. I dumped him. Then cried alone on my couch in my condo for two entire days, but no one needed to know that.

“Sydney? Do you know what the timeline looks like on that?” asked Mr. Solomon, the CMO of the football team and my boss.

Gah. Nick was throwing me off my game and he wasn’t even in the room yet. I had to get out of Dodge ASAP before I got myself into trouble. I needed a run-in with Nick about as much as a blown fuse on my Christmas lights.

Nope. Not today.

Get it together, Syd. “Er, uh, yeah. I mean, yes.” I shuffled through my stack of papers, searching for the timeline. “The dates are January 6-10.” I glanced up just as Nick walked into the room. My stomach swooped as I took in all 6’3” of his gorgeousness.

“Sydney! You remember Nick Milton, right?” Mr. Solomon’s voice boomed as a hot blush flooded my cheeks.

Nick locked his hazel eyes on mine and my stomach flip-flopped so hard I thought I might lose my lunch.

My face flamed even hotter as I pushed down crazy butterflies and stammered, “Hey. Great to see you again.”

“You, too.” He smiled his lopsided, thousand-watt smile at me and honest-to-goodness, my knees went a little weak.

“Not sure if you saw the roster changes yet, Sydney, but Nick’s back with us,” Mr. Solomon said, slapping Nick on the back.

Nick grinned. “I’m thrilled to be back in Boston, sir, playing for the home team.”

And we couldn’t be more pleased,” Mr. Solomon said.

“Wow. That’s great. Congrats.” I managed to squeeze the words out, despite my inner hyperventilation. “Well, I’ve got to run if you want these numbers later today, Mr. Solomon.” I pivoted towards the door, trying to run out of there faster than Rudolph on a Christmas Eve deadline.

“Sydney! You’re working the Annual Fundraiser at Copley Plaza on Thursday, right?” Mr. Solomon reached out and touched my elbow, stopping my exit.

I searched for an excuse, but nothing sprang immediately to mind. Damn Nick Milton. Already messing with my head.

“Ah, that’s this week?” Nick chimed in, rubbing his square jaw. “Shoot. Wish I’d known that. That’s the day I blocked off for the shoe endorsement meeting with you, Sydney.”

“Really?” Mr. Solomon asked, raising a dark, bushy eyebrow. “Well, I don’t want to stand in the way of an endorsement deal,” he said, reaching across the desk to slap Nick on his broad back.

“That shoe company’s been courting me for a while and I could really use Sydney’s expertise during the negotiations.”

“I’m sure you could. She’s a real superstar. That’s why we hired her away from that private firm.” Mr. Solomon winked and chuckled, a low, rumbly laugh. “We’ll miss you kids at the Gala, but I understand you have to grab those endorsement dollars while you’re able.” He patted Nick on the shoulder, then turned back to me. “Go get ‘em, Sydney. We need our boys to scoop up all they can.”

I nodded, even as my mind spun. How did I not know about this? Last I checked, Nick was still out in the desert playing football. He was a lot easier to resist from three thousand miles away.

“Talk later, kids. I’ve got a meeting downtown I have to jet to. Nick, we’ll catch up after the holiday break.” Mr. Solomon stalked past us out of his office, head down, staring at his cell.

“What the hell, Nick?” I screech-whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, hello to you, too,” he said, grinning his signature grin that made me want to slap him and kiss him all at the same time. “Like Solomon said, I got traded. Coach wanted me back, so Calvin headed West and here I am. His style works better for that team anyway. And I could ask the same about you being here. Except I already knew you left your firm and signed up with the team.”

“You did?” I stared at him, my mouth dry as toast.

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