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“Your ten minutes don't start until you’re in the conference room with your employees,” I inform him. “So there’s no use in literally dragging your feet.”
Bishop scowls, which causes my heart to flip in my chest. The obnoxious Santa sweater softens even his most scathing looks.
“That was never specified,” he answers. “So I interpreted it as starting when I left my office.”
Rolling my eyes, I let out an exasperated sigh, though I’m very much enjoying our conversation. “The people need more time to appreciate my handiwork,” I counter, nodding to the sweater. “I spent real time on that, you know.”
“This?” he questions, pulling the tight material out to get a good look at it.
I narrow my eyes at him, though I’m not offended. It took all of fifteen minutes to glue on the fake beard and attach the Christmas lights. He doesn’t know that, however.
“Uh, I mean, it’s…” Bishop trails off, his deep blue eyes widening slightly with panic.
I take mercy on him, letting out a laugh so he knows I’m not upset. “It’s ugly, which means I did an excellent job,” I finish for him. “Now, come on, Grinch. Let’s meet some Whos down in Whoville.”
I spin on my heel and practically skip the rest of the way to the conference room, where I have decorations, snacks, and a few fun games. Bishop trudges behind me, though he’s picked up his pace a little bit. Small victories.
Standing to the right of the open door, I wave my hand out to usher him inside.
“You’re not coming with me?” he asks, that same panic creeping into his features.
“Nope,” I answer with a smile, popping the “p.”
“Why not?”
“Someone has to get some work done around here,” I answer, slowly backing away from the conference room.
“But-”
“Ten minutes!” I call out over my shoulder, almost back at my desk. “I’ll be watching!”
Bishop shakes his head, then wipes a hand down his face. He doesn’t say anything, he just shoots me a glare that I think was supposed to be intimidating.
Sitting down at my desk, I boot up my computer and pull up the tabs I need to work on Bishop’s schedule for next week. Yes, I’ve been party planning and going all out with decorations, but I’m getting my assistant work done, too. I’m busting my buns over here, trying to get a good recommendation.
I look up from my screen, peering into the conference room. From my desk, I have a good view through one of the glass walls. I can see Bishop towering over most of the people in the room, standing stiff as a board as Matt from accounting approaches him.
Mr. Castillo frowns and somehow bunches his shoulders up more than they already are. Matt holds out his hand for Bishop to shake, which he does, but it looks like it pains him. He looks around for half a second, his gaze pausing when he sees me. He gives me an adorable look, his eyebrows raised as if to say, “See? I’m trying, and it’s actively killing me.”
I grin at him and give him two thumbs up before motioning for him to smile more. Bishop shoots me another glare but then focuses his attention on Matt. I see the barest hint of a fake smile plastered on his face, which is good enough for me.
I get lost in shuffling around appointments and responding to emails. I’m not sure how much time has passed, but when my desk phone rings, I jump to answer.
“Come into my office,” Bishop commands, his deep voice rattling through me.
Looking up, I see him sitting at his desk through the open door. I roll my eyes and hang up, noticing for the first time how quiet the floor is.
“You rang, sir?” I ask once I get inside.
“Yes,” comes his simple response, though something ticks deep in his dark blue eyes.
“You could have just come out and talked to me.”
He shakes his head. “I already did my socializing for this year and the next. I made it twelve whole minutes, by the way.”
“And look! You’re still alive. It’s a Christmas miracle!”
Bishop is trying to glare at me, but it’s not working. The left corner of his lips pulls up into the smallest little smirk. I’m instantly addicted to bringing more of that out of him.
