Page 17 of Terms and Traditions

We talking tux and bow tie?

STEPHANIE

Most of the guys just do a suit and tie. Maybe your charcoal one with the pinstripes?

NASH

I won’t read into the fact you know my closet so well. *winky face*

STEPHANIE

*eye roll* Bring whatever you want. Do you need me to find you an ugly sweater? I can add it to my list for Monday.

NASH

I’m not your boss. I’m your fake boyfriend, Steph. I’ll handle it.

And shouldn’t a boyfriend know what colour dress his girlfriend is wearing so his tie will match? *smirk*

STEPHANIE

Why do you sound so gleeful? I’m the one benefiting from this arrangement, and you get the short end of the stick.

NASH

Time spent with you is never a downside. It’s an upgrade.

STEPHANIE

…

My dress is red. See you Monday.

Chapter eight

Nash

Monday morning, the office buzzed with the last week of work energy before the holidays. I couldn’t say how productive those hours were for anyone, including myself, because Stephanie’s desk was in my line of sight when I glanced out my open office door.

Late morning, I slid off my glasses and rubbed my eyes. After three straight hours of staring at the computer, I was desperate for scenery not burning into my retinas.

“Knock, knock.” Stephanie poked her head in the half-open door and frowned. “What’s the matter?”

Perfect timing. I popped my glasses back on and gestured at the computer. “Just some light reading.”

Approaching my desk, Stephanie set down my black coffee. Like she did every day like clockwork. But then she surprised me with a new move. Coming around to my side of the desk, she leaned down slightly to view my screen, her hazel eyes scanning the news article with speed.

I remained where I was. Her shoulder brushed mine as she hovered over my back. With our height difference, we were nearly cheek to cheek. A delicate whiff of vanilla filled my nose, familiar and sophisticated. Wholly Stephanie.

“Are you worried about Nova Designs?” Stephanie said at last, pulling me from the vanilla haze of my imagination.

“Hmm? Oh. I don’t know.” I sighed, leaning back in my chair as she perched on the edge of my desk. “I try to keep tabs on them. More so than our other competitors, and this article resurfaced about the allegations of them stealing information from SkyLark. No way to prove it as there wasn’t a paper trail, but SkyLark was planning their launch for three weeks after Nova swept in with theirs.”

It hadn’t been the first time such allegations had followed Nova either. Nova Designs, headed by none other than Hiram Addams, Stephanie’s dad, was our biggest national competitor in the marketing world. Speculations, hearsay, and accusations of bribery littered the papers when it came to winning bids on projects. Nearly as much as the gossip magazines were filled with Hiram’s latest conquest on the potential marriage market. His name had been attached to nearly every prominent socialite or actress between the ages of twenty-five and fifty.

“And it feels like more than coincidence.” Stephanie’s forehead wrinkled in a frown. “I wouldn't put it past him. But it’s hard to take precautions against a ghost if there’s no proof. Are you worried about interference with the spring launch?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a weird feeling.” I groaned, scrubbing a hand over my jaw. Stephanie’s insight and honesty were things I loved about her. She was an excellent listener and had a way of drawing me out of my head, helping me see the big picture. More than once she’d served as my sounding board, even if it wasn’t in her immediate job description. But I valued her thoughts, and she had good instincts.