Page 6 of Unwrapped

Snow swirls outside the bank of windows from the top floor of Drago industries. It falls softly to the streets below, covering the world in white.

My gut churns.

Christmas.

The time of year when you think about family. The good, bad, and ugly of it. I’ve never known Christmas. At least not the kind even semi-normal families have. Santa never landed on my roof. We never even had a tree. until the one year I thought… My fists clench as I look out at the city below, watching the snow turned into rain. The once pristine landscape’s turning to slush.

“Mr. Prescott? Isabella is on line three.”

Hell.

“Thank you, Claudia.”

My secretary turns from the doorway, shutting my office door with a click. I stare out into the gray below for a few more seconds before turning from the cool glass and walk back to my desk. My hand hovers over the phone before I pick it up, then I press line three.

“What?” I bark. She knows I don’t like to be disturbed at work.

“I miss you. I haven’t seen you for a week.”

“I’ve been busy. It’s the end of the year.”

“Too busy for your girlfriend?” She huffs.

I don’t bother answering. Isabella isn’t it for me. We both know this and yet she refuses to let go.

“Spend Christmas with me. We can go anywhere. Cabo. Paris.”

“I can’t. I’m working.”

“Over Christmas?”

“It means nothing to me.” I lie, ignoring my wounded heart that never healed from all the Christmases past. Where the little boy I was… never woke up to presents under a tree. What I did wake woke up to was passed out drunks and broken beer bottles littering the kitchen sink.

“Really, Dare?”

“Don’t call me that.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. She feels acts like she knows my secrets, when she doesn’t know jack shit. Just because her hands have roamed over my body, tracing the ink on my skin doesn’t mean she knows a damn thing. My nickname “Dare” is written across my back followed by Creed’s emblem. Despite her prying, I never did answer her questions; even as she tried to coax them from me while using her lips and tongue. “I’ll call you later. I have a meeting in a few minutes.” I place the phone back in the cradle without even bothering to hear her reply.

I was already feeling like I needed to break something. I want to crawl out of my skin. To be somewhere - anywhere but alone at Christmas again.

“Sir?”

My PA knocks at my door.

“Come in,” I keep my tone even, despite my clenching fists.

“They’re ready for you.”

I grab my laptop and briefcase, pushing thoughts of Isabella and Christmas from my mind. I have a multi-billion-dollar company to run. There’s no time for weakness or bad childhood memories. Afterall, I’ve transformed. I’m no longer the unwanted boy from a no place of a town deep in the woods of Southern Oregon. I’m Darren Grant, CEO, Chicago millionaire and off-limits to any woman who thinks otherwise. Especially, Isabella.

I stride through the halls of my company, heads above the other men. My scowl stops anyone from wishing me a “Merry Christmas.” Cubicle after cubicle glows with tacked up string lights. Mini-Christmas trees perch on the edges of desks. A few electric menorahs are placed on tables next to wooden dreidels.

My gut churns.

A multi-million-dollar deal is on the line. I dig deep. Pushing down my emotions, and I become the shadow man of my youth: dark, dangerous, and ruthless.

My palm pushes the heavy boardroom door wide. My eyes pin everyone down in their seats. I place my laptop and briefcase down at the head of the long rectangular table. The tips of my fingers straighten my ivory silk tie.

I don’t miss the woman on my right, re-crossing her legs and shifting in her seat. I smirk, winking at her. A blush creeps along her cheeks.

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