Page 21 of Joy to Noel
I tap my thumb on the side of my phone as I debate whether to continue the conversation.Liam made it pretty clear that he’s not here to make friends—which logically means he doesn’t seemeas a friend. Maybe what I thought was a mutual enjoyment of our back-and-forth was actually him humoring me, and now he’s tired of it. Tired of me. I should stop annoying him.
I’ve just set my phone down on the table when itpingsagain. I pick it back up with embarrassing speed.
MR. EXEC
But you can tell me if I ever cross the confident/arrogant line with you, MJ. As my neighbor, I do care a little what you think about me.
I purse my lips, clamping down a smile.
ME
You forgot fierce competitor in addition to neighbor.
MR. EXEC
You’d better get on the ball tomorrow if you expect me to attach the term “fierce” to your competitor title.
ME
Good thing I have an extra-strong cup of caffeine scheduled to start the day.
MR. EXEC
7:00 sharp. See you then.
Chapter eleven
Madison
Since I had already ceded yesterday’s victory, I went to bed early instead of working last night. Which was a good decision, considering I’m now wide awake at 5:45 a.m. without the assistance of an alarm. I’m still snuggled under the covers when I hear a crunch on the gravel outside, startling me out of bed.
Pushing aside the curtain and separating the blinds on the side window, I catch a glimpse of Liam’s retreating form, running away from the cabin complex.I guess the running is a consistent thing. I suppose he has to keep that body in shape somehow when he’s moving all over the country. And he’s doing an awfully good job of it.
The observation is simply an acknowledgment of fact, nothing more. Still, I make a mental note to add more barre sessions with Clara to my to-do lists.
I’m on day-three hair, and while I frequently push it to four or even five days with the help of quality dry shampoo, I decide to take a fast shower before going to Liam’s cabin. After all, they do say to dress for the day you want to have—and I’m gunning for a win today.
While I shampoo and condition my hair, the eucalyptus and tea tree oil scent wakes me up even more.I may not even need caffeine today. But I’m not turning down the chance to count Liam’s suits, assuming his cabin has the same open-concept feel. I bet he has at least six.
I don’t bother to blow-dry my hair since it air dries mostly straight all on its own. I do take a few minutes to apply some light makeup, including the mini cat-eye eyeliner that helped maintain my token “sassy” aura at WritInc. I even go so far as to slip on a pair of jeans and a sage-green sweater in lieu of leggings and a sweatshirt. Because I have an extra few minutes, I repaint my nails, choosing a coral pink as the main color. After painting my right thumb and index finger, I pause.Should I switch back to ring finger accent nails now that I’m no longer secretly sticking it to Chad?After a momentary debate, I skip over my middle fingernail, leaving it blank. When the coral nails are finished, I decide I may as well just go bold and paint my accent nails stark black. Call it a power move.
Dressing for the day you want to have—check. Maybe I’ll actually add that to my to-do list for the day so I can officially check it off.
At 6:57 a.m., I cross the few yards of gravel between our cabins and knock on Liam’s door. He swings it open almost instantly, and holy moly, I was not prepared for freshly-showered Liam Park. He must not have sprayed any cologne yet because I’m hit by a scent of masculine body wash instead. I physically bite my tongue to stop myself from telling him to ditch the cologne altogether.
His black hair has been styled but holds that still-wet sheen, and the black dress shirt he’s wearing with light gray slacks should be the poster look for business professional dress codes. He isn’t wearing the matching blazer yet (although it’s hanging on a hook by the door), and it has me picturing what the shirt would look like with the sleeves rolled up on his forearms and paired with jeans.
All of these observations have flooded my brain in the split second it’s taken Liam to say, “Good morning, MJ.”
I’m a fish with its mouth hanging open. I’m about to be caught acting like a total psycho if my brain can’t manage to remember some common greeting phrases, stat. Something streaks across the room behind Liam, causing me to scream, jump, and narrowly avoid psycho-staring territory.
“You have a cat in here?!” I exclaim just before I realize I have a death grip on Liam’s arm.
It’s a very firm arm.
His eyebrows form a wry line as he looks down at my hands wrapped around his bicep, then back to my face. “Are you . . . afraidof cats?”
I release his arm only to give it a firm swat. “No, I’m not afraid of cats. I was just startled. I didn’t expect to see any animals running around the tiny cabin.” His amused smile remains in place. I huff. “Are you evenallowedto have pets in here? Does James know you have a cat?”
