Page 12 of Santa Baby Maybe
“I told you, you could call me Dare.”
I ignored that because it made my chest feel funny. “Because it’s like the song. Five. Golden. Rings. We’re keeping them all and I’ll accept the blame for going over budget from Wes. Are we done?”
“I don’t suppose I could encourage you and your team to work a little faster.”
I took in a deep breath. “We’re making art. It takes time.”
“Spare me from all artists,” he muttered. “Just do what you can. Okay? This is important. This has got to work. For everyone’s sake.”
I felt a sense of desperation in his statement. “What’s in it for you?”
The question seemed to take him off guard. “What do you mean? I have a job to do.”
“Yes, but the way you said ithadto work. I mean, I get why it’s so important to Wes. It’s his company. I’m basically putting my name on the line and trying to establish myself as a premier Christmas ornament designer. If this line fails, I fail. But you would just get another job counting someone else’s money.”
He frowned. “Yeah, it’s not exactly easy to get a job as a chief financial officer when the company you last worked for goes under. If you must know, this is just as big deal for me as it is for you. I’ve got my future basically resting in your hands, you of all people, and five fucking golden rings that are coming in over projected budget.”
I scowled. “Okay, do you see what you just did there? Meof all people.Stop doing that. Stop making it sound like you know me.”
“I’m not…” He stopped and then tried again. “I’m not trying to be mean or insult you.”
“Yet you’re being mean and insulting me. I’m not a stereotype.”
“You…remind me of someone. The way you dress, I suppose. The whole art thing.”
“The way I dress?” I challenged him. “See, that’s so typical. You think I dress a certain way because I’m an artist?”
“Everything is always loose and flowy. Out of control. You’re going to tell me it’s because your spirit has to be free or some nonsense like that.”
I folded my arms across my chest and debated telling him the truth. He didn’t deserve it. It was personal and not something I’d thought I’d ever share with anyone. So why him?
Maybe because I wanted him to know how wrong he was to put me in a box.
“You want the truth. Fine. I dress this way because I’m self-conscious about my breasts.”
That made his eyes get wide. “Come again?”
“I, well, matured at an early age and have always had large breasts. Anything tight has always made me feel, I don’t know, like they’re on display. Heck, if I wear a push-up bra it’s like I’m coming to attack you with my killer boobs.”
He laughed. “I highly doubt I would feel threatened by killer boobs.”
I smiled. “It’s true. Anyway, since I was a teenager, and I was always getting looked at…there…I decided to downplay them and wear as loose-fitting clothes as possible. So there. Now admit you were wrong about me.”
His expression sobered even though I knew the idea of killer boobs was still in the forefront of his mind. I also gave him credit for not immediately moving his eyes to my chest to do his own assessment.
“You’re right,” he offered. “I made assumptions and that’s not a very intelligent thing to do.”
I nodded, satisfied that I’d made my point.
“Now I’m going back to work on my line offivegolden rings, but I will let the team know the budget is tight and they need to be working as efficiently as they can.”
He sighed. “Thank you.”
“It’s going to be okay. I know it is.”
He nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t totally convinced. I also considered if I should apologize for what I’d said weeks before. When the idea of his having friends had taken me by surprise. If I did, maybe we could get back to a more normal footing. Maybe he would then stop avoiding me at all costs.
Not that I cared one way or the other.
