Page 68 of My Boss

God, please don’t let this be a dream. I pinch my hand so hard that I jerk. This is really happening, this…

“Are you going to say something?” Jan gives me a piercing look.

Say something? Of course, just let me catch my breath. I clear my throat. I hear my voice. Hoarse, but it’s there.

“Why didn’t you ask me directly if I would stay?” My voice is breaking up. My heart’s pounding is deafening.

“Because you would have refused.”

“How do you know?”

“And would you like to spend the evening at the office, with me? Without all that family love affair with mushroom soup, carp, cheesecake and carols?”

“I don’t like cheesecake.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know, but we could have avoided this circus and just gone to a restaurant for Christmas Eve dinner. Just like normal people. There are plenty of options this evening for those who don’t want to have dinner at home, make dumplings and set the table. Be sure, though, to know I certainly wouldn’t take you to my folks. I wouldn’t put up with the series of humiliations my parents would inflict on me if you were sitting next to me.”

“I do not celebrate the traditional Christmas Eve, Maria.”

I raise my eyebrows.

“Are you of a different religion?”

“No. It’s just…” He moves his hands over his face. “I’m not fond of Christmas.”

“You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last,” I reply casually, although I can see from his expression that it’s about more than just Christmas fever and agonizing over family gatherings. “Is there a specific reason?”

He closes his eyes and leans his head against the wall. You don’t have to be a psychologist with a degree to figure out that something is bothering him. That he associates Christmas with something unpleasant.

Gosh, I haven’t seen such a Jan yet. Sad to see him like that.

“Are you feeling all right?”

He opens his eyes, then, to my surprise, lifts the corners of his mouth slightly.

“Don’t you think it’s a little strange to ask a cold fish from a cemetery pond how it feels?”

God, heckled me with this one. But I deserved it.

“I am sorry for that one. I didn’t mean it.”

“You did.”

“Well, all right, I did. But only because you pissed me off. Couldn’t you just be honest with me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I care about you.”

My heart leaps. A wave of heat hits me. Christ, does he realize what he just said? After all, I’m going to have a heart attack right here and right now!

I clear my throat. I have such a lump in my throat that I can barely swallow.

“Wait, because I got confused.” I rub my forehead. It is damp. I’m sweating like a pig. “You care about me, so you decided to trick me?”

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