Page 29 of A Cozy Kind of Christmas
What was his deal?
No, don’t answer that.
She knew exactly why he was suddenly obsessed.
Because he knew he had betrayed her, and she’d called him out.
He couldn’t take it.
He didn’t like being the bad guy.
But guess what?
He was.
Connor was also the kind of guy who wasn’t used to hearing the word “no.” His path to success, unlike hers, had been rolled out in front of him like a red carpet, without so much as a bump or ripple.
It must be nice.
Her route to ESPN had been hard-fought and bloody. She’d had to fight for everything—every raise, where her pay still paled in comparison to her male counterparts, every seat in the conference room, every meeting, every conversation, every interview.
Women swooned over Connor. After he casually mentioned missing his grandma’s cookies on-air, care packages of homemade chocolate chip cookies flooded into the station. For weeks, boxes filled with thick and chewy chocolate chip cookies loaded with walnuts and tied with pretty red ribbons piled up in the breakroom like it was a bake sale for the world’s most eligible bachelor.
When he shared a story with viewers about breaking his favorite baseball bobblehead when he moved, hundreds of the collectibles arrived at the station with handwritten notes and invitations to meet up in person to dive into a deeper and more intimate conversation about Connor’s love of the sport.
Honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised if women tossed their panties at him like he was fronting a boy band.
No, scratch that.
She refused to letConnorandpantiesexist in the same sentence, let alone in any corner of her world.
His colleagues adored him, lavishing undeserved praise when he performed the bare minimum—his basic job requirements, things that were literally in his job description.
The Connor Howard effect went something like—charm, underperform, and still come out shining.
She was furious with herself for getting tangled in his web.
Another text buzzed.
Good, let him squirm.
No response was a response, and that was the best he would get from her. As far as she was concerned, Connor no longer existed. Period. No notes.
Hopefully, that message would sink in for him soon.
EIGHTEEN
MEG
“Megs! You came!” Matt dropped Lucinda’s arm and ran to embrace Meg. He stopped short and went in for an awkward fist bump instead before standing back to appraise her like she was a stranger. “Wow, you look great. Really great. I’m so glad you came.”
As he approached, her heart felt like it might swell right out of her chest.
Oh, my God, it’s happening.
He’s here!
Shit, he’s here.
