Page 3 of The Naughty Or Nice Clause

“Since he loves to make last-minute decisions, I think I should do the same. Leave him to me,” Lyla told her, and the office applauded. “Ladies,” she said to the two women behind the reception desk, “if you would start this celebration…” She motioned towards the speakers.

Orla beamed. “With pleasure.” The harsh office lights were dimmed and the music, which was usually soft classical tones to appease clients, began pounding out the Christmas classic ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’. Once the champagne was popped, it wasn’t long before the dancing began. Lyla hadn’t known that Fergus from accounting had such rhythm beneath his tweed jacket. She would never look at him the same again.

Sam joined her at the edge of the crowd and handed her a glass of champagne.

“I can feel a storm brewing,” he said, as Lyla watched everyone let their hair down.

“Don’t take life so seriously. What can Klaus do? Fire everyone?” She grinned, downing the champagne. Before he could reply, she handed him another glass from the tray on the reception desk. “Drink and be merry!”

“Cheers,” he said, and they clinked glasses before joining the makeshift dancefloor.

Just before midnight, Sam reminded Lyla about Secret Santa.

“Secret Santa will start at midnight!” she announced, raising her glass of champagne to the crowded room of smiling faces. There was a cheer as the clock struck the hour, marking only thirteen daysbefore Christmas. She finished her drink, and Sam helped her off the chair.

“Klaus is going to eat you for Christmas dinner when no one shows up tomorrow,” he warned in a gleeful whisper.

“Sam, lighten up. I’ll handle everything in the morning. We still saved the money he wanted on the party, so I think he can budge a little.” Kicking off her heels, Lyla pushed them under the table by the reception desk where they usually greeted the guests.

“I think the champagne has made you delusional,” Sam said, offering her another glass.

“Perhaps.” She took a sip. “But again, that’s tomorrow’s problem. Right now, I have to get the secret Santa presents.” Pushing through the crowd, she wondered if others in the building had joined them. The main office seemed a little more packed than usual.

Heading to her office, she spotted a light on down the hall away from the party and frowned. The last thing she needed was Klaus finding a stray sock from some late-night shenanigans as the champagne got the better of the staff. It wouldn’t be the first time the offices had been used for meaningless flings after one of their legendary parties. She wasn’t one to judge, but not inhisoffice! He would notice if a pen was so much as put back in the wrong pot.

She grabbed the red sack of presents from under her desk and hurried back to the party, thrusting it at Sam. “Get started without me,” she yelled over the music, but he was already looking for his name in the pile.

Slowly, so as not to startle the couple, she padded back down the corridor, the cold marble reminding her she still wasn’t wearing shoes. Reaching the door with light shining from underneath it, she listened for a moment and then gave a quiet knock to warn anyone in a state of undress of her presence. No one answered.

“Please re-join the party,” she called. “We’re about to start with the secret Santa presents—” She pushed open the door with an unintentionally dramatic swing –the champagne must have hit me harder than I thought –and then stumbled back.

Mason Klaus was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. His hair, which was usually groomed to perfection, fell through his fingers, the length concealing his face.

Lyla closed the door behind her, wondering if he was angry about the party. She didn’t want to be scolded in front of her co-workers.

“Okay, before you have a go at me for having the party behind your back, I think you should know I paid for it out of my own pocket,” she said defensively. When there was no reply, she took a step closer.

“Klaus?” she said gently as she heard heavy breathing.

He looked up, seeming surprised to see her. He hastily smoothed back his hair and went to readjust his tie, but it was already on the desk, his top buttons undone. Lyla couldn’t help staring. She had never seen Mr Klaus even slightly out of composure. He looked like a total stranger.

“Is everything alright? You look… distressed.” She might not like him, but she was human, and he looked as though he’d been crying – which both saddened and terrified her.

“Lyla – Ms Smurfit – I suggest you go back to your party,” he said gruffly, before reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out a decanter she didn’t know he had. She didn’t know what she was more surprised by – the fact that he’d used her first name in the office for the first time in a year, or that he’d been concealing expensive liquor in his desk drawer.

“Are you going to stand there and stare, or will you join me for a drink?” he asked when she didn’t move. It sounded like he might have already indulged in a few.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why don’t I call your car?” she said as he poured another, clinking the decanter hard on the glass. She hadn’t seen anyone drink like this since her mother had died. It was how her father had spent most of his nights for the first year. She knew Klaus wouldn’t want her to see him like this.

“My car is unavailable,” he informed her, “and I couldn’t get a cab in the rain. This was the closest place with a couch from the bar.” To her horror, he started undoing his shirt buttons, exposing the body he worked so hard on beneath.

“What are you doing? The staff could see and get the wrong impression!” She locked the door before returning to his side and trying to stop him by putting her hand over his. He surprised her by looking at her likeshewas the drink he wanted to indulge in. She quickly let go of his shirt, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.

“Are you trying to take advantage of me, Ms Lyla?” he purred, and she wanted to smack him.

“I’m making sure Sam can’t come in looking for me,” she snapped. “I’m sure the sober you would never recover from the shame of the staff finding you without a shirt and with me. Alone.”

That seemed to sober him a little; he straightened in the chair. Only a few buttons were undone, but he made no move to correct them. Instead, he reached for another drink.

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