Page 7 of Once Upon a December
“I am.”
Damn if that confident attitude didn’t do something to him. Nobody was this arrogant in his presence. Nobody. He was always the most important person in the room because of the position of power and authority that becoming the head of Frost Financial at such a young age had given him. People tended to cower when he issued a challenge but not this man. He kept rising to Gibson’s bait and for some reason he couldn’t seem to stop baiting him.
“Prove it, Mr. Michaelson.”
“Felix.”
His lips twitched again and from the way those dark as midnight brown eyes darted down and then quickly back up, he knew the other man had noticed. The action alone made his cock harden, wanting some attention of its own. Then he was the one caught watching when Felix gave a quick swipe of his bottom lip with the tip of his pink tongue and Gibson’s cock definitely wanted the attention of that particular body part.
“Felix.” He gave a curt nod of his chin but his voice gave away his conflicting emotions, too low and rough and he had to clear his throat and try again, “I appreciate your confidence even if I remain skeptical.”
“I get a sense skeptical is your default setting so I’ll try not to take it personally.” Felix flashed him another of those lazy smiles. “How about I start by explaining my vision for the Frost Financial Annual Holiday Ball and we can go from there?”
“Of course. Sit.” He motioned for Felix to take a seat in one of the two high backed leather chairs opposite his desk but the other man only narrowed his eyes.
Felix glanced from the chairs to Gibson and back again. His eyes moved over to a small sitting area with a plush sofa and smaller, more comfortable looking chairs to the side of the room that went mostly unused unless Gibson spent the night in the office or one of his brothers came for a visit and wanted to talk. He didn’t like sitting behind their fathers big desk and facing off against Branson or Dawson. It just didn’t feel right. But he also didn’t like meeting with clients, or employees, in that other more personal area of the office.
“Thank you. I will.”
Without another word and without so much as asking permission, Felix crossed the room to the small sitting area and relaxed onto one end of the sofa. Gibson raised an eyebrow at the bold move but found himself pushing up from his desk and following despite the rise it gave his hackles. He was in charge. Always. Yet this man kept turning the tables on him and he didn’t understand how, or why he was letting him get away with it.
“Sit with me.” Felix smiled up at him, his dark eyes dancing with a kind of amusement that hinted he knew exactly how much he was annoying Gibson and took immense pleasure in it.
He patted the spot beside him invitingly but Gibson refused to play along. He reminded himself that whatever attraction he was feeling that it was one-sided and inappropriate and instead sat in the chair caddy-corner to the couch. Close enough that if he wanted, he could have brushed his knee against the other man’s but he didn’t dare. He leaned back in the chair, crossed his ankle over his knee, steepled his fingers and shot the other man an impatient look he wasn’t really feeling.
“I’m waiting to be wowed, Mr. Michaelson, and our time is limited here so I suggest you get down to business.”
“Felix.” The other man replied, ignoring Gibson’s attempt to reposition boundaries.
“Fine. Felix.” He sighed heavily, “Can we get on with it please? This party is the bane of my existence but it must be done and it must be done right so, let’s hear your plans.”
His dark head tilted, his eyes going serious, “You really don’t like Christmas, do you?”
“No.”
“Well then, I’ll have to see what I can do about changing that.”
Gibson’s hackles rose again and his lips thinned, “Don’t. You won’t. Nothing can. I despise all of the forced cheerfulness and revelry and the only reason I haven’t canceled the party altogether is for employee morale.”
“I’m surprised your employees can even enjoy themselves at such an event if the host makes his hatred for the holiday so easily known.”
“They find it much easier to enjoy themselves without my presence looming over them, or so I’ve been told.”
The look of surprise that crossed Felix’s handsome face might have been humorous on another man or in another situation. In this one, it only made Gibson’s stomach tighten. He didn’t like the flash of confusion or the worry that he saw follow it and he didn’t want to want to set the other man at ease. He didn’t want to assure him that it was fine, that he was fine, so he bit the inside of his cheek when Felix searched his face with those intense dark eyes.
“You mean you don’t even attend your own party?”
“No.”
“But… why?” Dark lashes blinked slowly, as Felix stared at him and Gibson felt for a moment as if the other man had somehow seen past his hard exterior shell, the one he’d erected the day his parents had died, to the still bruised and bloody pieces of him beneath the façade that had never properly healed.
“Because, as you so eloquently put it, I’m a Grinch. Remember?”
Felix pursed his lips in displeasure. He clearly didn’t like the flippant answer. But before he could press further, uncover more of Gibson than he was willing to give to a complete stranger, he set them back on their respective paths with a tap of his watch.
“Tic Tock, Mr. Michaelson. My time is limited and you’ve yet to wow me.”
This time he would have sworn Felix grit his teeth. His jaw worked, flexing and unflexing for a long moment. But when he spoke again, he met Gibson’s eyes with none of the anger or hostility he’d seen there the day before. He only smiled, slow and soft, as if he understood Gibson’s reaction, his reasons for continuing to call him by his proper name and redirect the conversation. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?
