Page 22 of The Christmas Cover Rule
CHAPTER 12
jonas
Annie Oakley: I’m watching Suits for the first time. One of the characters reminds me so much of you.
Jonas: I think they actually used me as inspo for Mike.
Annie Oakley: Oh… I was talking about Louis.
Jonas: Easy, Blondie. Your Christmas gift might not make it this year if you keep that up.
Annie Oakley: Don’t make threats you can’t keep. My new Hermes tea set showed up this morning. Thank you, by the way.
Jonas: Oh, that was just the stocking stuffer. Your real gift isdelivering tomorrow.
My thumbs hover over the text as I smile to myself. Taylor Nova fell into my life and brightened it with her hundred different ideas a mile a minute, and the way she dives headfirst into everything, even when she’s scared. When she moved halfway across the world after falling in love with her rugby-playing, super-hero body-having, now-husband, I was nervous we would lose that. So much of our relationship was built on a zero-expectation friendship.
From the night I met Taylor—even in our drunken stupor—I could tell she was looking for something more from her life. Whereas I was resigned to the fact that even if I did want something more, this was likely it for me. It worked for us, though. When her best friend moved out of their shared apartment, I would lie on her couch and act as her body double while she cleaned. When I didn’t want to feed into the party boy lifestyle I had unintentionally built for myself, she was on my couch binge-watching shows with me. We might not see each other every day now, but our friendship continues. It just revolves around sending each other social media clips and videos on three separate platforms while texting about something completely different.
I’m about to text her back when an incoming call from my other best friend flashes across the screen.
“Boss.”
“What’s the update?” Miles’s no-nonsense voice gets right to the point.
“What, nohello? No,I miss you?”
“I’m assuming you don’t have an update, so here’s mine—Thomas Kettela will be arriving this afternoon.”
“Oof. Tough time for a firing. Contrary to what you think, I did get some information. Diego is coming in this week for awedding.”
“At Christmas?”
“Weird, right? That’s what I thought, too.”
“Alright, well, either way. Get it done. Samantha has been on my ass about sending you there.”
Of course she has. I graduated top of my year, and my billables continue to speak for themselves, but I’d be lying to myself if I thought she hired me for any other reason than who my parents are.
I’m about to tell him maybe he should have come himself, spent a few days at this beautiful resort with his beautiful wife, but the breath is knocked out of my lungs when Stella comes out of the bathroom. Her white tank top stops just below her breasts, and the long, emerald green skirt leaves nothing to the imagination, the way it hugs every single dip and curve of her body. She’s fastening some new gold earrings in. These ones are decorated with gold starfish at the end to match the gold chain draped across her waist. Her eyes meet mine, with a playful smile pulling on her lips, and I blink my eyes, clearing my throat.
“I’ll handle it.” I hang up before Miles can respond, and pocket my phone.
“See anything you like, Mr. Jonas?” Her voice is teasing, but the way her body saunters toward me is no joke.
“Oh, I’m seeing–” I take her hands, holding them out so my eyes can feast on her, “—everything I like, Mrs. Jonas.”
Dinner iswhat I’ve come to expect from my short time with the Clarke family. Mariana has been telling stories that date back to before Stella was born. Lilianna and Lucas engage in conversation while also tending to their girls. Marco, well, he taps away on his phone.
“Stock market or something,” Stella whispers in my ear when I’m caught trying to figure him out.
I place my hand on her leg under the table, gettinglost in the feel of her as I slide my fingers over the smooth material of her skirt.
“Stella, how’s work going?”
Stella’s muscles flex beneath my hand at Isabelle’s question. She shifts forward in her seat, grabs her water, and takes a small drink. “Good,” she says, forcing a smile around the cup.
It’s so subtle, but I’ve noticed the difference in her when we’re around her family versus when we’re alone. It makes sense given what she shared with me earlier, but I can’t help wanting to smash any ounce of doubt or reason that has ever made her feel even slightly less than.
