Page 6 of Her Frosty Billionaire
“Felt like being social.” The lie came easily.
“Right.” He smirked like he didn’t believe me. “How’s the logistics business? Still cornering the market on Christmas fulfillment?”
“Someone has to make sure all those last-minute gifts arrive on time.”
We fell into easy conversation about Q4 projections and shipping nightmares, but I wasn’t really paying attention. My eyes kept scanning the room, looking for…
There she was.
Hope Haynes stood near the dessert table, holding a platter of snowman-shaped treats. She was laughing at something a woman with dark hair said. She wore a long skirt and a green sweater that had a Christmas tree made of sequins on the front.
Normal people didn’t wear things like that. But on her, it somehow worked.
“Earth to Noel.”
I blinked. Grady was staring at me with raised eyebrows.
“Sorry. What?”
“I asked if you’re planning to expand into international markets next year.”
“We’re considering it.” I took a sip of my drink, forcing myself to focus. “The infrastructure costs are?—”
Hope moved through the crowd, offering baked goods to a small group near the windows. One of them said something thatmade her throw her head back and laugh, and I lost my train of thought entirely.
Grady followed my gaze and grinned. “Ah. Now it makes sense.”
“What makes sense?”
“Why you’re here.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Good luck, man. She’s cute.”
I didn’t bother denying it.
Hope was making her way around the room now, her platter half-empty. She stopped to chat with an elderly couple, then moved toward Cruz Kemper, the building’s owner and an occasional acquaintance of mine. He took two cookies and said something that made her smile politely and nod.
I waited. Finally, she turned in my direction. Our eyes met across the room, and she froze mid-step. I raised my glass slightly in acknowledgment.
She recovered quickly, straightening her shoulders and heading toward me with that platter like she was on a mission. As she approached, she asked, “Cookie?”
She held out the tray, her voice determinedly cheerful. I looked down at the snowmen. They were actually well-decorated. Almost too cute to eat.
“Did you make these?” I picked one up, examining it.
“My roommate Mollie did. I just helped with quality control.” She paused. “Which mostly meant eating the ones that didn’t turn out perfect.”
“Tough job.”
“Someone had to do it.”
I bit into the cookie. It was good—buttery, with a hint of vanilla. I made a point of looking impressed. “Your roommate has skills.”
“I’ll tell her you said so.” She shifted the platter to her other hand. “I’m surprised to see you here. You don’t really strike me as the cookie exchange type.”
“I’m not.” I took another bite. “But I heard there’d be food.”
She laughed, and the sound did something strange to my chest. “Well, you’re in luck. There are about fifteen different kinds of cookies in here. Fair warning, though—Mrs. Soleo on the eighteenth floor made fruitcake cookies, and they’re…an acquired taste.”
“Noted.” I finished mine and reached for another. “These are addictive.”
