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The server goes over a few specials, and Nicholas orders a steak while I order a chicken Caesar salad. Not because I’m one of those girls who won’t dig into a juicy piece of red meat in front of a man like Nicholas. There’s nothing better in the world than Caesar dressing. Nicholas loves ranch dressing with everything, but I’d much rather have a solid Caesar dressing. Just one more thing to add to the list of why I’m leaving. I mentally make that list while he taps away on his phone.
Reasons All I Want For Christmas Is To Quit:
He doesn’t appreciate me.
Too Scrooge-y.
Too hot.
Hates Caesar dressing.
Ignores me at restaurants and forces me to make lists in my head.
I glance around the restaurant while Nicholas continues doing whatever he’s doing. For the many years I’ve worked for Nicholas, and the many dinners, lunches, conventions we’ve been on, I’ve learned he’s not the conversationalist.
While he’s busy, I take in the festive atmosphere. There’s Christmas decor everywhere—twinkling lights, evergreen wreaths, and rustic ornaments on a gigantic Christmas tree. A blazing fire crackles in a large fireplace in the center of the back wall. It’s quite cozy. Just like our room.
I think it’s one of the resort's selling points. A fireplace in every room so you can feel warm and cozy with your loved one all night long. How romantic.
I inwardly roll my eyes, but then my mind shifts back onto what the hostess said. Does Nicholas just need sex? Will he be less of a grump?
It makes me wonder how long it’s been since he’s had sex. For all I know he could have had hot, wild, animalistic sex last night.
I keep staring at him, wondering if he’s the primal lover. I shift in my seat. He has to be. I bet sex with Nicholas is one of those life-changing events that you never forget. I bet he can rock the sheets and break headboards.
I bet he knows just the right way to touch a woman, and—
“Januaryyyy,” I hear my mother’s voice shout throughout the quiet restaurant.
Oh. No.
All thoughts of Nicholas rocking a woman’s world, ok my world, melt faster than the ice in my glass.
“What the…” Nicholas’ words fall away as my mother and her short brown bob swoops down on our table like an eagle flapping her wings over a nest of baby eagles.
I love my mother, I really do, but I can’t deal with this right now.
“Mom… hi… what are you…” My skin flushes, and I can’t even form a proper greeting.
“January, why didn’t you call me when your flight landed?” She shoos her hand in the air with a big smile. “Never mind that. You’re here now.” She leans over and gives me a hug.
I’m still flabbergasted, but not as flabbergasted as Nicholas is right now. If this situation wasn’t horribly awful, I’d probably laugh at the way Nicholas stares at my mother like she’s got the wrong table.
“Who’s your friend?” My mother’s voice pitches up on the last words as she moves her attention over to Nicholas. Like I’ve been keeping this man a secret. Her brow arches. She scoots closer to him.
No.
“Oh, this is…” I blank. “Um…”
“I’m Nicholas—”
“Yes, Mom,” I cut in before Nicholas can say his last name. “This is Nicholas, my…”
She’d never understand why I’m working over the holidays when I plan on quitting after the new year. She knows I’m leaving my job and knowing her, she’ll blurt it out. She doesn’t know my boss’ first name, only his last name. And I honestly think she believes his last name really is Scrooge. “Just Nicholas.”
“Well, I’m Anne. January’s mother.” My mother reaches out her hand for him to shake.
“Mother?” Nicholas says, taking my mother’s hand in his. “Are you sure you’re not her sister?”
My mother beams at his charm and giggles like a schoolgirl.
“Mom?” I question her, wishing more than anything she’d just leave.
“Oh, I get it.” My mother makes a face like we have let her in on a huge secret. “You finally brought home a boyfriend.” She clasps her hands over her heart. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so many years.”
“Mother,” I choke out. I glance over at Nicholas, and oh my god. Is he smiling?
Yes, Nicholas is all smiles and cute chuckles as he winks at my mother. “It was my idea,” he says, and I’m trying to keep up with the conversation going on right before my eyes.
“I figured it would be.”
“You know January’s the shy type,” he says with a coy grin that shows off his perfectly white teeth.
I blink at both of them.
“No, I’m not,” I say.
“See, you’re being shy now about being shy.” It’s like he’s been possessed. There’s even a twinkle in his dark eyes. “You know I like that about you, It’s adorable.”
