Page 3 of Bossing My Holiday
I throw my hands up in the air in frustration. “I was an hour and a half late, Tristan! It wasn’t even my fault.”
His lips twitch, and he wipes it away with his thumb beforeI’m even sure if that’s what I saw. Still, it drags my gaze there for a moment before I look away. It’s moments like these that I wish he weren’t so fucking gorgeous. Ice-blue eyes that match his chilly disposition, black hair, a chiseled jawline, and a divot in his chin that makes him look like Superman.
Why are all the pretty ones such bastards?
“Tristan? You never call me that.”
“You’re more infuriating this morning than usual. I don’t know what else to tell you. I woke up late to no power in a freezing apartment, took an equally cold shower, and then raced here only to get myself burned, show my ass to half the floor, and have you see my pink vibrator. I think I’ve been flagellated enough. Can we please move past all this?”
“You mean the ridiculous spray and vibrator you shouldn’t have in your purse at work?”
This fucking asshole. “It was a gag gift a friend purchased for me for my birthday last week, and I forgot they were in there. And what I keep in my purse is my own personal, private property and none of your business. Obviously, I didn’t want that spilling in front of everyone, especially you. Are we able to get to work now, or are you not done chastising me yet?”
“You feel I’m being unfair?”
“Yes. Your powers of reading the room are finally paying off. I feel you’re being unfair.”
“Except now we’re officially down an intern, and we have a virtual meeting with the Smithfield people in an hour, and you look like that.” He waves his hand up and down my body.
I deflate a little at that. He’s right. We do, and it’s a big meeting where we’ll all have to be on camera and talk.
“You fired Thomas?”
“He’s incompetent. Prove to me you’re not.”
Dick. “I can run home?—”
“And miss more time?” he cuts me off. “No. I need you here. I’ll have Jasmine run out and get you something new to wear.That meeting needs to go off without a hitch, and you better be ready for it.”
Before I can reply, there’s a sharp knock on the door.
“What?” Tristan barks.
The door opens, and Braxton Hicks—yes, that’s actually his name—walks in wearing a suit that looks like it was designed just for him, the perfect amount of stubble on his sharp jaw, and a charming pearly-white dimpled smile that makes every straight woman and gay man swoon. His sandy-brown hair is all over the place, and his chocolate-brown eyes are sparkling with their customary hint of mischief.
“Hey, I heard about what happened. I came to see if everyone’s okay and if you told Waverly the good news yet.” Braxton’s smile slips into a frown when he notes my blouse. “Yikes. Our poor girl. Are you okay?”
His hands meet my shoulders, and he spins me to fully face him, and I wish my heart didn’t beat faster at his touch. I’ve had time to adjust to how my body reacts when I’m near Tristan—sort of, more like sixty-eight percent—and his personality helps me a bit with that. Plus he’s never physically touched me. But I still haven’t learned how to be around Braxton without getting a flutter in my belly and feeling my nipples tighten.
Having a crush on him sucks.
“She says she’s fine,” Tristan tells him, scowling as if he’s not sure whether he believes that or not. “And no, I haven’t told her the news yet. We’ve been a bit preoccupied, as you can see.”
“Are you actually fine?” Braxton’s face is full of concern. “Tell me the truth, not what you told this cold bastard.”
I can’t help but laugh lightly. “Yes. I’m okay. It looks worse than it is. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
“Damn, I hope not, but I’m also glad I didn’t miss the big announcement.”
“What is it?” I can’t help but ask.
“Now that Claudia is leaving, I’m going to have you come onas my assistant too starting after the first of the year. It just makes the most sense for both of us to share one person.” He waves a dismissive finger back and forth between himself and Tristan. “What do you think?”
“I’m going to be working for both of you?”
“Unless I fire you before that, yes,” Tristan states.
Oh my Christmas.
