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“I thought we were meeting at the restaurant?” It was half a statement and half a question. “Isn’t it a little risky to show up together for dinner with your father? He might suspect there’s something going on between us.”
A tinge of hesitancy was evident on his face, which was unusual, given his standard excessive level of confidence that flirted with arrogance. “I was more concerned with what would happen after our meeting.” He reached out and cupped my face and a gust of icy December air blasted inside. “And aside from you being uncomfortable or starting a rumor mill at work? I am more than happy for anyone to know you’re my girlfriend—and that includes my father.”
I wrapped my hand around his wrist and pulled him over the threshold, closing the door against the bitter winds. “And what do you think is going to happen after the meeting?”
He curved his lips in a wickedly salacious smile that left absolutely nothing to the imagination as to what he wanted. “I want to spend the night with you, but only if that’s what you want. Things are moving fast, and I don’t want to scare you, but I also sure as hell don’t want to be away from you if I can help it.”
The embers of desire that had been smoldering inside me quickly fanned into a crackling fire at his statement. He’d been mostly respectful of my concerns about someone at work putting the pieces together if they caught inappropriate behavior and he’d treated me the same as always, only sharing the occasional whispered statement when we were alone in our office—or a loaded stare that said so many things he didn’t need to verbalize.
“Yes.” My voice was husky, even to my own ears, as I uttered the single word.
The uncertainty I thought I must have imagined seeing in his expression dissolved and a broad grin lit up his face. “Your place or mine?”
I grabbed my long, chocolate-brown coat from the hook and pulled it on. “Am I greedy if I say ‘here’?”
He opened the door and magically produced a black overnight bag. “Nope, but I wanted to be a little more prepared this time, so I don’t have to get out of bed with you until I am damn well ready.”
“Such a good little Boy Scout, always prepared.” Although I had a heavy amount of sarcasm coating the statement, a small part of me was warmed by the realization that he wanted to spend time with me.
Brendan hooked an arm around my waist and pulled my body flush against his as well as he could with our thick winter clothing on. “Oh, sweetheart, I plan to spend hours showing you just how good my preparations can be.”
* * * *
Nearly every cell in my body tensed as Emilio Lanza sat across the table from Brendan and me, silently absorbing everything I’d presented. I didn’t dare glance in Brendan’s direction, knowing my tightly held self-control would be even further tested by him.
“My role isn’t typically in front of the camera, Leah.” He spoke slowly as the waitress appeared with our salads.
I nodded, not even bothering to touch my utensils with my stomach twisted into tight knots as I waited for his response. “Yes, Mr. Lanza, I understand that, but a special filled with heartwarming and uplifting stories is sure to be a success, and adding you and Brendan as part of it will make viewers feel like they know you. It will foster a sense of trust and respect in a station that they don’t have a history with.”
After chewing a forkful of the romaine and Parmesan mixture, he lifted his bushy salt-and-pepper brows. “I think this is a unique and potentially game-changing proposition, but it’s also a pretty big gamble.”
My skin tingled with the weight of Brendan’s stare resting on me, even when I wasn’t looking at him. “Anything worth having requires a bit of a risk.” My body temperature rose with every word he spoke, knowing there was no mistaking the fact that he was talking about so much more than the New Year’s Eve special.
Mr. Lanza lifted his whiskey glass toward us in a makeshift salute. “That is true in business, life”—he took a sip of his drink and smiled with knowing eyes—“and in love.” He put the crystal back on the table and, mercifully, returned to the topic at the center of the whole damn meeting. “I’ve never shied away from taking a chance before, so I’m on board, but do you believe you’ll be able to pull it all together in time?”
Brendan sent his fingers to find mine under the tablecloth as our main courses arrived, and he gave a small, reassuring squeeze. I dared to send a quick glance in his direction, hoping the fleeting moment relayed my gratitude at his support.
“It will be tight, I’m not going to lie. And it will require a lot of effort and time through the holidays.” I gave a small chuckle and released Brendan’s hand to grab my fork and twirl the pasta on my plate, the rich aroma a catalyst to remind my stomach it was painfully empty. “Luckily, my family is vacationing over Christmas, so I can pour myself into my work.”
The older man stilled his movement in the middle of cutting into his Chilean sea bass with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean?”
I offered a half-shrug, wishing I hadn’t been quite so open. “My parents have retired, and I’m not really elf material anyway, so I can easily stay on task throughout Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.”
He chewed slowly, wiped his mouth with the linen napkin and shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like the woman I knew who initiated the Secret Santa gift exchange and always had the most decorated office in the building every year.”
Brendan let out a small, low hum I was fairly certain only I caught before he cleared his throat. This was certain to be a topic we’d revisit.
“The last couple of years have been a little less than festive for me”—I swiped a roll through the sauce on the plate and popped it into my mouth—“especially with my family traveling so much. Kicking back with Chinese food and a couple of good thriller movies has become my new tradition. Besides, it’s a lot easier to clean up Christmas decorations if you never pull them out.”
“That’s what you think,” Brendan murmured the words against his water glass as he took a long sip.
“No,” Mr. Lanza decreed at nearly the same time as his son’s whispered warning, “Absolutamente no.” A shadow passed over the older man’s face. “It’s just Brendan and me now, but we insist you celebrate with us.” He lowered his chin, pinning each of us with an equally meaningful stare. “And I think it’s fairly crystal clear that Brendan would want you to spend the day with us.”
Brendan’s wink sealed my fate. “Nowhere else I’d want her to be.”
Chapter Twelve
Brendan
