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LINCOLN
Washing my hands under the faucet in my executive bathroom, I take a long deep breath then look myself in the mirror. It’s 11pm and I look like shit. My dark brown hair is sticking up all over the place because I’ve spent hours raking my fingers through it, frustrated because after hours of trawling through proposals, I haven’t found a single storyline that jumps out at me. I used to be great at this. I could spot a bestseller a mile away, but with the advent of self-publishing, our processes have become antiquated and I’m scrambling to keep up while staying in profit. Maybe Sandra is right. Maybe I should give in a sell to one of the big four before we lose all our value.
Letting out a sigh, I rake my fingers through my hair again while noticing that my green eyes are now red-rimmed. A small smile curves my lips as the realization that my eyes are now Christmas colors hits me. “There you go, Miss. Rose. There’s a little Christmas spirit for you.”
I shake my head. It isn’t lost on me that I’m the grinch in that beautiful woman’s Christmas story. The Ebenezer Scrooge who’s sucking the spirit right out of her. But if she only knew how much having her near me while I work gives me a comfort I’ve never felt before.If only I could tell her…
Blowing out a steadying breath, I dry my hands on some paper towel before straightening the front of my shirt. “On the positive side,” I say to my reflection. “If you fuck this up and lose the company, there’s nothing stopping you from claiming your woman.”My little sugarplum.I smile to myself, recalling the way she shoved that little coconut coated ball into her mouth in a fit of rage. I should have just told her I’m allergic to coconut, but I can’t afford to let her in even a tiny bit. The way my body reacted when my hand brushed hers earlier made that fact abundantly clear. The moment I allow myself to get close to her, I’ll fall into her forever. Now isn’t the time. There’s too much at stake.
When I leave the bathroom and return to my desk, I find a turkey sandwich sitting in the center with a small note that simply says,eatwith a hand-drawn picture of Christmas holly.Picking the note up, I run my thumb over the neatly written letters, round and curvy just like their scribe. I lift the note to my nose and inhale, a clear decision forming in my mind. I have one hour to find a solution to our cashflow problem. If I can’t do that, at the stroke of midnight, I’m claiming what’s mine. Emma Rose is the only thing on my Christmas list. I’m going to unwrap her like the gift she is and feast on her curves.
EMMA
“That’swhat you’re eating?” My grandmother says via the facetime call I’ve set up so I feel somewhat a part of the festivities. I missed the dinner, but at least I get to watch them trim the tree and exchange gifts.
I take a bite of my turkey sandwich and chew unhappily. “I also have candy.” I hold up the snickers bar I stole from Lincoln’s desk while he was using the bathroom. He’s been like a bear with a sore head all evening. He won’t let me go home, and he won’t let me do anything to help besides supplying coffee and researching people’s social media. I’m too scared to tell him I couldn’t find a rental car this close to the holiday, so I think I’m just going to throw my car keys at him then run away squealing. That’s probably my best bet.
“That’s no way to spend Christmas Eve, sweet girl. You’re twenty-two. You should be with your family. And if you can’t be with family, you should at least be with friends, not stuck in some high-rise with a forty-something child on an ego trip. I have a mind to come down there and beat him over the head with a giant candy cane.”
“A candy cane?” I can’t help but laugh. “I’d like to see that.”
“And I’d like to see my granddaughter before I’m too old to use these fancy i-thingies they keep making.”
“You’ll never be too old, grandma. You’re the smartest woman I know.”
“Funny.” She purses her lips and lifts her brow. “I used to think the same about you. But the Emma Rose I know would never allow herself to be pushed around like this.”
“I need the money.”Plus, I don’t want to lose this betting pool…
“Nonsense. I’ll give you money until you find a new job if it’ll get you out of there sooner. I never see you anymore and you look so skinny.”
I laugh. “I’m far from being skinny, grandma.”
“To my eyes you are.” She presses her lips together, her soft grey eyes filled with sincerity.
“Grandma…” I sigh, not really knowing how to explain to her what it is that really keeps me here. It’s hard to explain it to myself.
“Stand up. Walk out,” she says.
I bite my lip, tempted. But then a voice booms from the office behind me. “Miss Rose!”
“I’m sorry, grandma. I have to go.”
* * *
After making yetanother pot of coffee, I watch the drips filter down while sucking on the end of a peppermint candy cane.What am I doing?Grandma is right, I shouldn’t be letting Lincoln Maverick push me around and take over my life. But at the same time, I have this drive to want to please him. He barks at me and bosses me around and I…I get off on it. I think that’s why I’m still here when others have run for the hills screaming. I’m desperate to please him. I like to imagine that one day he’ll look up from his work, decide I’m everything he wants and command me to lock his office door and strip. My panties dampen at the thought.
But it’s a childish dream brought on from reading too many books with roguish heroes and happily ever afters. In real life, the beast is the forty year old workaholic who won’t even look at me, and the beauty is just a chubby assistant dreaming about unrealistic fairytales. I’m being naïve.
As the coffee machine spits and spurts, I bite off the end of my candy cane and make a decision. When the clock strikes twelve, I’m handing in my resignation. Winning the office pool, convincing Lincoln I’m worthy of praise, earning enough money to fund my own (very secret) publishing dreams isn’t worth missing out on Christmas. I’m done.
LINCOLN
Midnight. It’s officially Christmas and I still have no fucking clue what I’m going to do. Well, I knowwhoI’m going to do. And honestly, it’s the best fucking decision I’ve made all year. Today is a new day. I’m a new man. And I’m ready to live the life I want and love the woman I want.
I’m two seconds away from calling her in when she bursts through the door with her chin high and her shoulders back. There’s indignation in her eyes and I’m so busy admiring her fiery beauty that I don’t register what’s happening until she slaps a piece of paper on the desk in front of me.
“I quit!” she yells. And I’m so turned on by her display I grab her wrist and release a low growl.
