Page 25 of 27 Kisses

Her brow crinkles in confusion. Is it the startled look on my face? Or the possessiveness in my voice? “Come on, boss. You can’t tell me you haven’t checked out that stellar ass at least once. But sadly, I think he’s taken.”

My hand jerks, andEmail Sentpops up on the screen. Shit. I’ll need to email them back and explain—not sure how, but I’ll add it to my list of things to do.

What does Nat know? Or thinks she knows?

She bites her lip and smiles. It’s like I’m not even there. “But I’m not giving up. One day, he will be mine. Or at the very least, Ramon will notice me.”

Wait. “Ramon?”

Her gaze meets mine and she blinks. “Who did you think I meant?” And then she’s thinking about the possibilities, and that’s the last thing I need.

“Nat—”

“I mean, Christy’s cute in a growly ginger bear sort of way, but he’s like twice my age, right?”

I stand. Outraged for Christy and me. “Christy isn’t much older than me.”

“Oh, really?” she asks innocently as she gets to her feet. Too innocently.

I glare so she knows she’s not funny. “We’re nowhere close to fifty.”

“Closer than me.”

I return to my seat. “Go away.”

She places her hands on the back of the chair. “Will Christy be there?”

“Yes. If you must know. And if it will end this conversation, along with my parents, Isaac, Simon, and Adrian, and Zye and Miles. And my sister Jane and her new boyfriend.”

“It’s hardly new. She’s been dating Chad for the last year.”

“How do you know so much about my family?” And more than me?

“Small town. And I love going to the library.”

Damn Mrs. Weppler.

“I’m just worried about you, boss. You don’t do the whole Christmas thing. Or the family thing. And now you’re going to be surrounded by family at a holiday event you despise?”

I close my eyes, so I can’t see the pity in her eyes and to keep a lid on everything else: memories of my last family Christmas, my emotions jumping all over the place, my apprehension about all of this.

“Can I come?”

My eyes pop open. “You just begged for Christmas off to spend with your family.”

She shrugs. “Your family is more exciting. We don’t have princes or Vegas stars.” Her eyes light up. “Is Roz going to be there?”

“Why are you still here?”

“And,” she says, ignoring my question, “I was making sure my employees get time off since we work for Christmas-hating McScrooge.”

I try to ignore that. And fail. “I’m not a Scrooge.”

She juts her hip and grins. “Tell me more.”

I shake my head no. But the words won’t stay in. “If anything, I’m a Grinch. According to Aidyn.”

“That actually tracks. McGrinch it is. I’ll have to thank Christy next time I see him.”