Page 4 of The Naughty Or Nice Clause

“If you don’t want a drink, then go back to the party,” he growled, though it sounded like a warning.

“If this is because of that party, then I think you’re overreacting,” she shot back, though surely it had to be something else. She needed to get him talking, stop him drinking, and get him out of the office.I want his position, but not because he ruined his reputation!

He reached for his jacket, slung over the back of the chair, and a red envelope fell to the floor with words shining up at her in gold cursive.

Mason Klaus,Lyla read, before he picked it up and waved it in front of her. The torn edge told her he had already read its contents.

“Curious, are you?” he said coldly, before tossing it on the desk. “A letter from my family.” There was a hint of pain that she recognised in his voice. Her father had had the same undertone when he had told Lyla her mother had passed away.

“A Christmas card? That was nice of them,” she tried, but the look she received told her it was anything but. He’d never mentioned his family in all the months they had worked together – not where he was from or what they did. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that she’d tried to find him on social media as well as Google, hoping to dig up some dirt on him – know thine enemy and all that – but there was no trace of him. The only thing she could find was his graduation photo and the companies he had worked for. Nothing personal.

“Nice? They’re trying to strangle the life from me!” He reached for the glass, but she lunged for it, pushing it out of his reach. Furious, he rose from the chair; she was pressed against the desk, his hands on either side of her. He looked like he was about to tear her apart, if her racing heart didn’t do it first.

“I don’t think you’ve much life to strangle,” she mumbled, trying to ease the tension. With her heels off, he towered over her. His eyes studied every inch of her expression, and she felt herself cowering as he focused on her lips. She leaned away.

“Maybe not, but it’s mine,” he muttered.

As suddenly as he’d risen, Klaus softened his gaze and waved a hand in silent apology before reclaiming his seat. Lyla clutched the empty glass to her chest, and once there was enough space for her to slip out from between him and the desk, she placed it back on the desk, slightly out of his reach.

“I don’t want you to smell of whiskey in front of the staff,” she admitted.

“It’s a party, isn’t it?” He once again reached for an imaginary tie–must be a nervous tick.

“Yes,” she admitted, looking at the closed door as they heard laughter from the other side, “but you aren’tatthe party.”

He huffed, eyeing the decanter in front of him.Would he drink it straight from the bottle?She took it before he could and poured herself a drink. Klaus rubbed his jaw, watching her expression as the amber liquid burned the back of her throat. She winced. As more of a gin lover, the whiskey burn was unfamiliar.

“Are you going home for the holidays? Christmas can be a tense time for many families…” She wondered why she hadn’t left him to his whiskey. After a moment of being ignored, she decided to do just that. She tipped back the glass to finish it.

“My father is dead, and I haven’t been home in years.” The harsh words were spoken devoid of any emotion.

Lyla choked on the whiskey, her eyes watering. He merely raised his eyebrows as she patted her chest and tried to soothe the ache.

“I’m so sorry,” she managed to say, putting down the glass and sitting on the chair opposite him.He hasn’t seen his family in years?She couldn’t imagine not seeing her dad for so long. Something must have happened to keep them apart.

“My sister wrote the letter. The one who hates to write. I haven’t spoken to them in – ten years? Ten? Has it been that long? Kev will be…” He stared into the distance in disbelief, as if he’d forgotten she was there.

“An invitation to the funeral?” she asked softly.

“No. There was no need,” Mason said firmly. He didn’t elaborate.

“Okay…”No need for a funeral? Or no need for an invitation to it?The latter made more sense, but she couldn’t exactly pry when they weren’t even on a first-name basis, or hadn’t been until about ten minutes ago.

He slumped back in his chair with a groan. “I have to go home. Less than two weeks before Christmas – they’ll be out of their minds with work…” He tailed off into a sleepy mumble.That’ll be the whiskey kicking in.

Lyla couldn’t take it a moment longer. She was getting him out of here. She reached into her skirt pocket for her phone and texted Sam.

Had to leave. Make sure everyone leaves safely. My spare keys are in my desk, give them to security when you’re last to leave. L x

She didn’t like leaving the office without making sure everyone had gone first, but she trusted her colleagues not to destroy the place.

“Where are your house keys?” she asked Klaus, who shrugged with a tipsy smile.

“That’s not helpful,” she muttered, checking his desk and finding nothing. She considered reaching into his pockets, but didn’t want to face the embarrassment of it tomorrow. She eventually found them in his discarded jacket, much to her relief. The private lift to the executive car park below would be her saviour: she could spare dragging him out in front of everyone.

“A taxi it is,” she announced, remembering he had no car. While they waited for the lift, she called parking security to have them arrange one.

Mason smiled as she placed an arm around him and helped him walk unsteadily to the lift. The doors opened and they stepped in.

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