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Would accepting this invitation cross a line? Would it compromise my and Willa’s ability to be objective with the project, give criticism when it’s warranted? I think about all the evenings after work the four of us have spent together these last two weeks and realize that somehow we’ve already crossed the line from colleagues to friends. If I’m honest, I crossed a line when I unwittingly slept with Toni two days before the project started.

Oh Christ, do Ingrid and Piero know about that? Their expressions are open and friendly. No suspicion at all. They must not. That’s a relief. But how in the hell am I going to spend days and nights with Toni and keep my attraction from Greta, Ingrid, and Piero? Lord knows Toni doesn’t have a poker face.

One look at Willa and I know that she wants to go. Desperately. I would do anything for my sister, including being sexually frustrated for days on end.

“They’re communicating telepathically,” Toni whispers to her parents. “Willa told me about it. Pretty fascinating.”

I smile and nod at Willa, and it’s decided.

“Don’t feel obligated or put on the spot if you have plans,” Piero says.

“Our plans are to spend Christmas with each other, like every year,” I say.

“We can do that with you, as long as you let us help you with cooking and stuff,” Willa says.

“Of course,” Ingrid says. “Drive down the day after tomorrow and stay through Boxing Day. We are looking forward to sharing the holidays with you.”

“We are, too, Mrs. Giordani,” I say.

“Ingrid, please.” She leans close and stage whispers, “It’s actually Danzig, dear. I kept my name, but we used Giordani in promotional materials early on to make it easier and never stopped.”

“Got it.”

“Let’s get this party started,” Piero says.

“Greta, take me to the bar,” Willa says.

Greta leads Willa away. “This is a kid-friendly party, Willa,” I hear Greta say.

“Why do you think I need alcohol?” Willa says. She looks at me over her shoulder and winks broadly.

Even though I’ve told her multiple times now that I don’t need her to be my wing-woman and lure Greta away, at least not until after the project is over, she doggedly continues to do her best to distract Greta from focusing on me and Toni. She’s going to have to work overtime this weekend.

“She’s doing that on purpose, isn’t she?” Toni asks.

“Winding Greta up? Yes, yes she is.”

“I love her so much,” Toni says. “Come on. Let’s get you changed.”

She leads me to the back of the warehouse to a break room that’s shabby, but spotless.

“We’re in a break room,” I tease. “Are you going to spill cider all over me?”

“Not this time, I don’t think.” She takes the costume off the table and hands it to me. “Here you go.”

It really is a Buddy the Elf costume, complete with elf shoes and all. Toni is taller than I am so it’s not a great fit, but I look passable. When I walk out of the bathroom, Toni is standing in the middle of the room in nothing but red Santa pants, hiking boots, and a sports bra. My stomach flutters at the sight of her toned abs. I should have given them more attention when I had the chance. I lick my lips, partly from memories and partly from the delayed gratification when I finally do get a chance to trace those ridges with my lips and tongue, just as Toni looks up and sees me.

“That looks so much better on you than me,” Toni says. “You look like Peter Pan with your short hair.”

“Thanks.” I nod toward her almost naked torso. “You better cover those up before someone comes in and sees me ogling you.”

“Ogling?” Toni’s clear blue eyes spark with mischief. “How unprofessional, Miz Adams.”

“Says the woman flashing her abs.”

“What? These old things?” Toni holds her arms above her head and rolls her abs up and down in a mockingly sexy dance move.

I can’t help but laugh. “Of course you know how to do that.”