Page 47 of Yule Know It When You See It
“He skates?” Desiree’s brow bobs with intrigue.
Nodding and shoving the food to one side of my mouth for safekeeping, I drape a hand over my lips and mumble, “Mmhm. He used to play hockey.”
Desiree taps the crust on her pizza. “Well, he certainly keeps getting more appealing, doesn’t he?”
I cease chewing and throw her an exasperated glare.
“Sorry. Please continue.”
The sauce has collected at the corner of my mouth, and I dab it away with a napkin. “We almost kissed there,didkiss when they put us on the Kiss Cam the next day, and—”
“Confession?” Desiree quickly and repeatedly clicks and unclicks her pen. “My acting completely surprised about several kisses was well—untrue. Rupert told me about the Kiss Cam.” She flinches like I’m preparing to throw gooey cheese and sauce in her direction.
Though it’s tempting, this pizza is far too tasty for such frivolous acts.
“Of course, he did. He can be a real cackling hen, that one.” I twirl my fork into a stray piece of cheese and eat only it as my next bite.
“Aw, don’t be mad at him. He was bursting with excitement. He had to tell someone and swore me to secrecy.” A wicked glint to put the Evil Queen to shame flashes in her gaze. “He said it looked pretty steamy before the camera cut away.”
A shuddering breath leaves my lungs, and I fork more pizza into my mouth to mask the way my traitorous hormones have not forgotten, nor care about, Axel’s conniving ways. “It did,” I ramble around my cheesy bite of pizza.
“I guess I’m confused. It sounds like you two are hitting it off. This is amazing for you. And—” Desiree cups her wine glass, lifting it to me before sipping. “—he works with you, so you don’t have the career bit as an excuse.”
And now I’m reminded of how lovely everything is until this wrench in the holiday pie.
“We had a breathtaking kiss near the lake. It was even snowing. Pulled a late night in the office to write and ended up just—talking, but then—”
The words rumble through my brain: “It’d be more efficient if I do it alone.” “No. I don’t think we should.” “Consider the article yours.”
“Theo?” Desiree’s voice is wistful and laced with concern.
“It’s happening again, Des. Axel is trying to take credit for the story.Justlike my ex.” When I lift my gaze to hers, I expect to find a BFF fuming, ready to raise torches and pitchforks and storm Axel’s apartment. But what do I see? She stares at me in disbelief, shaking her head. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because something’s not right here. How do you know, or what happened to make you think this is the case?” Desiree rests her fork on her plate, finished.
For whatever reason, I go on the defense. I heard what I heard.
“Des, Iheardhim talking to Simone in her office.” I point downward and poke my finger against the table.
Desiree searches my face as if looking for the one clue to unravel this all. “Did you hear the entire conversation?”
Why do friends always ask the right questions that make your head spin?
“I don’t know. How could I know?” Brushing crumbs from the table, I flop back to my chair.
“So, you’re making the lavish accusation that Axel is trying to steal the story for himself out of whatcouldhave been a partial conversation?” Desiree writes on her notepad, and if it isn’t about deep-dish pizza, I’ll throw it straight into the Chicago River.
“He said it’d be more efficient to go about italone. And in the end, Simone said that article washis.” I find myself sitting straighter now, making some politician-like hand gesture to emphasize my point further.
Desiree quiets and chews her thumbnail. If she were standing, I imagine she’d be pacing the length of the room like a homicide detective attempting to piece it all together at a crime scene. “That does sound suspect, but I think something is missing. You know more about Axel than I do. Does he seem like the type to betray that quickly? That easily? Hejuststarted at the magazine.”
The short time I’ve known Axel already feels more like years. And this realization could be the part that scares me the most.
“You have a point, though. Simone hates signs of weakness. And someone coming to her ready to oust another employee in his first week?” I rest my chin on my hand and whine. “Why does this have to be so hard?”
“What does? Life?” Desiree cackles and slaps the table. “Look, girly. You need to pull your big girl pants on and have an adult conversation with him. Talk. To. Him.”
It’s true. I feel juvenile and childish about this entire thing.
