AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I mull over the real reason we’re sitting here together. Would I love to plan a Christmas party for a law firm? Without question. If the holidays lasted all year long, I’d make it my specialty and never do anything outside Christmas. Do I have the room in my schedule to do the party? Sadly, yes. I have a few smaller jobs I’m committed to in the next couple of months, but nothing the size and scope of what it sounds like the law firm will be doing. But just because I have the time doesn’t mean I can pull it off. I’ll have to rely on other businesses to do their part, and with such short notice, I don’t know if that’s possible.
“Well?” Andrew looks at me with barely veiled hope and it’s clear to me how much he needs me to help him reach his goal. Not the Christmas party per se, that’s just a means to his ultimate goal of becoming partner at the firm.
Though I owe him nothing, I can’t deny that the look on his face makes me want to help.
“I can’t commit until I know exactly what’s involved. Why don’t you set up a meeting with…?”
“Bethaney. She’s the fiancée who’s in charge of the party.”
I nod. “Why don’t you set up a meeting with Bethaney and I can get the information I need from her before I decide whether I can make this happen.”
Andrew nods eagerly and something akin to a small smile tilts the corners of his mouth up slightly. “Wonderful. Why don’t you give me your contact number, so we don’t have to message through that dreadful app anymore, and I’ll be in touch.”
“You’re not going to continue trying to meet someone, IOBJECT?” I hold my hand out toward him. “Here, give me your phone.”
He pulls his phone from his front pocket, unlocks it, and hands it over. “I think I’m taking a break.”
I quickly add myself as a contact and text myself so his number will be in my phone. When I hand it back to him, he glances at the screen.
“Mrs. Claus?” he says in a wry voice.
I laugh. “Well, that’s why you want to hire me, isn’t it? I love Christmas and you’re hoping for a miracle?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. A weird whooshing feeling attacks my stomach at the sight of his smile and the twinkle in his blue eyes.
I ignore that feeling and take a sip of my drink. Me being attracted to Andrew would be akin to Mrs. Claus having an affair with the Grinch.
“Thank you for the drink,” I say to Andrew as we walk over to the coat rack.
He grabs my jacket for me and holds it out while I slip my arms through the sleeves. I jog my memory to remember the last time any of my dates ever did that for me and not a one. There’s something old school and chivalrous about the act that I love.
“Thanks,” I murmur when his knuckles brush against my neck as he brings up the collar.
I face him, but he’s not looking at me, instead buttoning his jacket. I almost get the feeling he’s intentionally keeping his eyes focused on the task.
He follows me out of the restaurant, and between the bar and outside, it feels like a mile because I’m suddenly very aware that he’s watching my every move. Rather than sauntering, I feel my walk is stiff and awkward.
The chilly November air hits me when I step outside and turn to face him. “So… I guess I’ll just wait to hear from you. Let me know about the meeting with Bethaney.”
Why does this moment feel like the awkward part at the end of a date when neither person knows what to do?
He signals with his arm in front of him. “I’ll escort you home. Are you walking or did you take the tube?”
“The tube?”
He shakes his head as though he’s forgotten himself. “The subway, I mean.”
“Oh, no, I walked. It’s not that far. You don’t need to walk me home.” I rub my hands together. “I made it all the way here on my own.”
His mouth pulls to the side. “I understand this isn’t a date, but Finn would pummel me if he knew I’d let you walk home on your own. C’mon, no arguing. I’m not accepting a no.”
“Well, all right then.” I walk in the direction I came and Andrew falls into step beside me, positioning himself so that he’s on the street side.
We walk the first block in silence before just the sound of horns honking and cars whizzing by weighs on me.
“You never said what your dislike of Christmas is about? Notice how I didn’t say hate.”
He side-eyes me but doesn’t directly turn to look at me. “I have my reasons.” His voice is tight and strained.
