Page 14 of Under the Mistletoe
“So… coming back tomorrow?” I look down at her, waiting. Because I’m increasingly aware that this woman probably does the opposite of what I expect, and if she told me the job isn’t for her, I wouldn’t be surprised. Today has been crazy. Even though she exceeded all my expectations.
She gives me a playful smile, raising an eyebrow. “Thinking about it.”
I huff a laugh as we step into the elevator and make our way down.
“Tell me, Miss Johnson, are you heading home to set the world of lawn sprinklers on fire?”
“Hmm… not tonight. I spent all weekend boxing up orders, so I’m officially sprinkled out.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to prevent the full-blown smile that wants to break free. It feels weird to be talking like this with someone. I don’t usually engage in small talk with my extended team. Something that my HR director says makes me standoffish and gives me a reputation of being too cold, distant, and unapproachable. Yet it’s easy with Jessica.
“What about you? Another red-carpet event for you tonight?” She seems more relaxed around me now, more so than some of my team who have worked here for years.
“No, not tonight. I have conference calls for the next couple of hours.”
The conversation ends as she nods, the quiet deafening as we descend to the lobby. It suddenly feels like we’re both holding back from talking more. It has me thinking if she saw those pictures of me and my date from the weekend… what she could be assuming from something like that.
With a sigh, she looks up at me. “Well, see you tomorrow.” She steps out of the elevator and strides through the foyer. I pause and watch her go, seeing her flick a wave to the security guard at the desk in a familiar move that has my eyes narrowing in on him.
“See you tomorrow, Jay Jay!” he hollers to her across the empty lobby, offering her a large grin that she mirrors.
“Black with a little cream!” she yells back to him, smiling brightly. They seem close, and I can’t help the spike of jealousy I feel deep in my gut.
Ignoring it, I continue on my way, following her outside to my driver and town car waiting at the curb for me. As I step out into the night, the cold and drizzling rain hits me, and I pull up my collar.
“Good evening, sir.” Gordon, my driver, has my door open, but before I slip into the car, I look up the sidewalk. Jessica has her head low, her hands hugging her body, walking swiftly. Not an umbrella in sight as the rain comes down even harder.
“Gordon,” I greet him as I slide into the warm, dry car. My jaw is tight as the door closes me in, and I sit, feeling rigid.
“Straight home, sir?” Gordon asks from the front seat, and I meet his gaze in the rearview mirror before I hear a roll of thunder overhead. So what if she’s walking in the rain…? Probably getting wet. Might get mugged, certainly catch a cold, maybe even slip and break a leg.
“Drive to the end of the street, Gordon. Pull over near the woman with the red scarf,” I say through gritted teeth. I have so many other things to do. I have a conference call in about thirty minutes with the team from Singapore. I need to go through the board meeting notes, and I should hit the gym at my penthouse because all this frustration is nipping at my shoulders.
As Gordon peels away from the curb, I look out the window, eagerly waiting to see her. Within the next minute, we pull up just ahead of her, and I jump out of the car before Gordon has time to get my door.
“Jessica!” I yell over the rain that’s now tearing down. She looks up briefly, her nose already pink, her hands gloveless and no doubt already frozen. “Where are you going?” I feel the rain hitting my hair and falling onto my forehead, but my eyes remain focused on her.
“Just the subway.” She frowns as Gordon walks over, passing me a large umbrella, and I step toward her, keeping her dry. We’re close. Too close, really. Our toes are almost touching, but we both need to remain under the umbrella so I’m not moving.
“The subway?” I can’t school my surprised features, no matter how hard I try. Is she trying to give me heart failure?
“Yes. I take the subway home.” She looks at me, confused, and I notice her wet scarf, soggy around her neck, is now entirely ruined.
“Get in my car.” The words feel foreign and her eyes widen behind her glasses that are now scattered with raindrops.
“Oh, it’s just a few blocks.”
I almost scoff. It’s at least four blocks to get to the subway, and who knows what assholes are on the train on a night like tonight?
“You’re not walking to the subway in New York at ten at night.” My tone is demanding. I’m trying not to be an asshole. But there’s no way in hell I’m leaving her here.
As she looks up the street, I see her mentally weighing her options. She knows I’m right. At a guess, I’d say she was so involved in her work she didn’t realize the time. We’ve worked a fourteen-hour day. I’m surprised she’s still standing. But I’ve noticed that about her today; she needs time to make a decision. She isn’t quick to settle on things—the complete opposite of me.
“Besides, I don’t need you getting sick. We have a lot of work in front of us, and I need you at full capacity. Especially leading up to the holidays.” It has nothing to do with the fact that she’s freezing, wet, shouldn’t be walking the streets of New York alone at night, and that I want her next to me more often than not.
“Okay. Thank you.” She nods, and I lead her to the car, letting her get in first before I slide in and close the door. Gordon was smart enough to leave it running, the heater on full blast, and she shivers next to me as she warms up.
She pushes her wet hair off her face and clips it back, but a few flyways remain stuck to her cheeks, her glasses covered in raindrops. Her face is flushed with cold, and she wrings her hands together. I know without touching them they’d feel like ice blocks.
