Page 28 of Unwrapping Holly


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That said, maybe shopping was just shopping. And lunch was just lunch. Maybe I was reading too much into a client who barely had time for anything other than work, one who’d hired me to remember two dozen birthdays and anniversaries. Not to mention mother’s day, father’s day, and now Christmas shopping, gift-wrapping, and—

“Holly!”

The sleek black Lexus was parked on the corner, as close to my building as the holiday traffic would allow. The City was nuts this time of year. Just a few weeks before Christmas, everyone was doing what we were about to.

“Hi Lincoln!”

I made my way across the sidewalk, through the swirl of light snow flurries that had popped up overnight. It was amazing, how fast the weather could change here. How it could be so unseasonably beautiful one day, and then freezing cold the next.

My client greeted me with a warm hug, ushering me into the back of the beautiful, four-door sedan. The doors closed. The noise of the City disappeared instantly, like someone had flipped a switch.

“Temperature good?” he asked, shaking out his coat.

“Perfect,” I smiled. It really was. Between the soft leather seats the warm flow of invisible air, it was bordering on the most comfortable ride I’d ever been in.

“Thanks for doing this by the way,” Lincoln said. “I realize you’re probably mega-busy this time of year, especially on the weekend.”

If only you knew… the little voice in my head chuckled.

“Nonsense,” I grinned. “I always have time for my favorite client.”

Lincoln smirked. “I’ll bet you say that to all the boys.”

“Maybe.”

“Yes, well it’s appreciated,” said Lincoln. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up earlier. I’d planned on the morning, but something came up at the office and—”

“Lincoln it’s okay,” I smiled pleasantly. “This is better actually. I had, uh… a busy morning.”

I looked down, and realized I’d laid my hand over his. It was pretty forward of me. Or rather, it was forward of old Holly. Maybe not the new one.

“Well you have me all day,” he said with a wink. “All night too, if you need it.”

I studied his expression, looking for the slightest hint of suggestion. Did his smile turn into a smirk? Just a little bit maybe, at the very corner of his mouth?

Leaving my hand where it was, I took stock of him. Lincoln always knew how to dress, and today was no exception. He was business casual, and like me, decked out in black and white. Sharp, pleated slacks. Beautiful, Italian leather shoes. A white button-down shirt with a tab collar that screamed for a tie, only he wasn’t wearing a tie. Probably to break some kind of business-dictated mold. He was always a little bit of a rebel like that.

The car pulled away from the curb, smoothly entering the City traffic. I almost hadn’t noticed the driver in the front seat, separated by a small partition.

“So, I wanted to give you some ideas this year,” said Lincoln. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a folded, printed list. “You did amazing last year of course,” he said quickly, “but my nieces and nephews are getting old enough to have specific interests now.”

I took the list from him and scanned it quickly. “So Brandon’s off dinosaurs?”

Lincoln smiled. It was the kind of smile that lit up his face, and made him even more handsome, if possible.

“He loves superheroes now,” he said. “He’s been stealing his brother’s. And Laura loves science all of a sudden, which is awesome. I dropped off some of those chemistry and biology sets, but my sister threw out the grasshopper and frog before Laura could dissect them, and—”

I giggled, picturing the whole thing. “Wanna drive your sister crazy? Maybe we’ll get her an ant farm. One of those really good light-up ones, with the gel.”

My favorite client laughed, and his laugh was even better than his smile. “That’s perfect!”

“Or an easy-bake oven. Imagine your sister’s face when she’s forced to eat burnt cookies and sloppily-iced cakes the size of a silver dollar.”

Lincoln looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “You’re diabolical, you know that?”

“Oh yeah.”

My hand was still on his. I hadn’t moved it, and he hadn’t moved either. The realization struck me that I was enjoying the warm, masculine feel of it beneath my palm…

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