Page 23 of Bad Boy Bachelor Christmas
North massaged his jaw with a large hand. “She’s learning, Norman. Take it easy on her.”
I sat up straighter. “I can separate myself from my work. If you don’t like it, I’d love to hear why. I won’t take it personally.”
“Don’t like it?” Norman breathed. “I love it!”
North looked like he’d just been kicked in the groin.
“Really?” I asked ecstatically, feeling my chest swell with pride.
Norman nodded eagerly and zoomed in on the iPad, studying the trees more closely and chuckling at the copy-pasted ornaments made out of popsicle sticks I’d found on the internet. “How are we going to find ornaments like this?”
“I was thinking we could ask your employees and some of your clients if their kids would like to decorate ornaments for the trees? I’ll also search thrift stores in the area and see what I can come up with. I’m very confident that I can make this the most nostalgic party you’ve ever had, Mr. Cuthbert.”
He relinquished the iPad, leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head, and grinned. “Sounds like a hell of a plan to me, Winter. I can’t wait to see how you pull this off. Dana was born in 1990. She’s going to be thrilled.”
North took his portfolio back.
We locked eyes. I could have done the mature thing and told him I could incorporate his ideas into my theme, but instead I rolled my eyes at him.
Norman laughed.
North did not.
CHAPTER11
NORTH
Idropped the portfolio of my tree designs into the recycling bin in my hotel room, removed my suit jacket, laid it on the bed, and fell into the armchair by the patio doors.
Norman had screwed me.
Not on purpose, of course, but in his own way, his googly-eyed excitement over Winter’s hideous pitch had undermined authority I’d been trying to establish with her. I didn’t need her getting a fat head right out of the gate, and the way she’d rolled her eyes at me at the end of the meeting suggested just that—her ego was growing to enormous proportions.
Not ideal.
I sighed and rubbed at my temples, head throbbing, stomach growling with hunger. I was considering ordering room service when an urgent knock came at my door.
Winter’s voice quickly followed. “North? Are you in there?”
No.“Yes,” I called.
“I was going to go for a walk and find a place close by to grab dinner. Would you like to join me? I’mstarving. All that pitching really made me work up an appetite.”
I rolled my eyes, pushed out of the chair, and strode to the door. She stood on the other side grinning up at me when I pulled it open. Cocky little brat.
“The concierge said there’s a great Italian place around the block,” she said.
“Let me grab my coat.”
She waited in the hall for me. Together, we made our way to the elevator, rode it down to the lobby, and pushed out into the cold Chicago evening. She tipped her head back to look at the starless night sky and inhaled deeply.
“It’s going to snow tonight,” she said.
I could feel it too. The sky had that heavy feeling, like the bellies of the clouds were being pulled down to the ground by the weight of gathering snow flurries. The air smelled crisp, and the concrete beneath our feet was cold and salted. Car exhausts puffed like little chimneys going down the street. Blasts of warm air hit us whenever we walked by open shop doors.
Winter tucked her chin into her scarf to ward off the cold, and neither of us spoke again until we were seated at the Italian restaurant by the window. A candle flickered between us, and shortly after being seated we were given water and a basket of bread. Winter went in for the kill, ripping a piece off and smothering it in garlic butter.
Between bites, she offered me an apology. “I didn’t mean to steal the pitch out from under you today. I just… I think I knew in my gut what Norman was asking for when we met with him the other day, and I couldn’t let my idea go unspoken in case he loved it.”
