Page 11 of A Perfect Christmas Romance (Kringle, Texas #8)

On Friday, Liv granted Brandi Jo early release from intern purgatory and told her to take the afternoon off.

In one week, she’d be free of the young woman. Whatever else happened, Liv was determined to hang onto her job with the tenacity of a barnacle on a cruise ship. If she did leave the firm, it would be on her terms, preferably with a mic drop.

The door banged open, startling Liv from her reverie.

She looked up to see Boz sauntering in like he owned the place.

“Liv, how’s that little problem with Bushnell going?”

Ah yes, Jim Bushnell, restaurateur extraordinaire and walking HR violation. Liv privately thought Bushnell deserved a well-placed throat punch for the outrageous things he said, but if his culinary empire crumbled, a lot of jobs would vanish faster than free samples at Costco.

She didn’t have to like a client to do her job, and thankfully, creeps like Bushnell were rare.

“Under control,” she assured her boss.

“You sure?”

Liv outlined her PR plan for salvaging Bushnell’s reputation.

“Good work, good work,” he said, in a tone that suggested he’d understood about ten percent of what she’d said.

“Thank you.”

Boz stood there, hands jammed into his relaxed-fit slacks, studying her like she was a puzzling modern art installation.

“Did you need something else?” She arched her eyebrows, hoping he’d take the hint and evaporate.

“Since next Friday is Brandi Jo’s last day, I think we should do a little something special for her.”

“That’s thoughtful.”

“A farewell luncheon in the office and a gift. A cake, too.”

“That would be nice.”

Boz finger-gunned her as he started backing out the door, a move that should have died in the 1990s. “Make the arrangements, would you?”

Liv pushed back her seat and leaped to her feet. “Why me?”

“She’s your intern, and you’re better at this stuff than I am.” He had his body halfway out the door, escaping like a cat that heard the bath water running.

“Don’t you shut the door on me and run off.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes with the drama of a teenager asked to unload the dishwasher. “What is it?”

“Why a full-blown party? Why not just a cupcake and a card?”

“I don’t know.” Boz held out his hand and pulled his shoulders to his ears, looking like a turtle trying to retreat into its shell. “Don’t blame me. It was the big boss’s idea.”

Of course, it was. If this was coming from William Lawrence II, she was as stuck as gum on a hot sidewalk. “Maybe I can order a food tray from the Kringle Kafe. What’s my budget?”

“Try to keep it under a hundred dollars.”

“Including the gift?”

“Okay, a hundred and fifty, but that’s it. You’re good with squeezing a dollar. Make it happen.”

“All right.”

Boz eyed her up and down, taking in her ensemble—a simple white cowl-necked sweater, a casual red vest, and a pair of boot-cut yoga pants as slacks. She’d picked the outfit with one thought in mind. What would Nick like to see her in?

“You look nice. Good job losing the structured clothing,” Boz said. “Billy will approve.”

Something in Liv snapped like a rubber band stretched too far.

“You know,” she said, channeling her inner Nick, “I’m not sure it’s okay for either you or Billy to be commenting on my clothing.

It’s within the dress code. I know you’re both from a different generation, but maybe you should check with HR before commenting on my clothing. ”

Boz looked as stunned as if she’d started speaking in Klingon. “I was just passing along Billy’s suggestions. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Maybe next time, have Billy do his own dirty work.”

“Wow.” Boz blinked. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

“Perhaps,” she said, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Then again, maybe I’ve just woken up on the right side of the bed for the first time.”

“Um, okay.” Boz fidgeted like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “But do get on the party planning for Brandi Jo.” He scuttled from the room faster than a cockroach when the lights came on.

Wow, score one for her.

Liv sat there, basking in her newfound power. She’d always been too afraid of losing her job to speak up for herself. What had finally given her the courage?

A single name popped into her head like a Jack-in-the-box.

Nick.

Seeing him again had her thinking about all the ways she’d once allowed men’s wants and needs to steamroll her.

Well, no more of that nonsense. She was taking charge of her life, and if she lost her job because she no longer wished to kowtow, then so be it.

She’d find another one, preferably at a place where commenting on women’s clothing wasn’t a management strategy.

Resolutely, Liv put her work aside to make a few calls, ordering a cake from the Kringle Bakery, a charcuterie board from the Kringle Kafe (because nothing says “goodbye and good luck” like fancy meat and cheese), and decorations from Party Palace.

That left thirty-five dollars to purchase a goodbye gift for Brandi Jo.

She’d hit the shops after work and see what she could find. Maybe a “World’s Okayest Intern” mug?

She was just about to go back to her project when her phone buzzed with a text from Nick.

Good morning! Did you sleep well?

Honestly, no. She’d been too preoccupied with memories of their past together to fall asleep fast. She’d spent hours tossing and turning, recalling what it was like to be held in his big, strong arms, to feel his mouth pressed against hers, to?—

Gosh, stop it!

She studied the text, trying to decide how best to respond.

Or if she even should respond. He probably wanted to know if she’d contacted Matilda Merris on his behalf.

She started typing back, explaining why she hadn’t yet contacted Matilda.

Stopped. Deleted it all and went for a short and sweet lie.

Slept like the dead. U?

Not well. I couldn’t stop thinking about U. I had fun last night.

He hadn’t slept either? Her breath stilled.

Liv sent a thumbs-up emoji and nothing more. Hauling in a deep breath, she waited to see what he would text next. Surely, he would respond with another request to connect him with Matilda Merris.

She waited and waited and waited…

Good grief! What was wrong with her? She was acting like a teenager waiting for a crush to text back.

Finally, she shoved her phone in the pocket of her sweater and went back to work, but she couldn’t focus. Her thoughts centered on Nick and the favor she’d promised to do for him. Already, he was helping her to loosen up, whether he knew it or not.

She owed him.

Pushing aside the work on her desk, she leaned in to maneuver her computer mouse and click on the company’s client list. She checked the M’s and found Matilda Merris.

And then she started grinning.

The agent in charge of Matilda’s account was none other than Liv’s friend and colleague, Dana Gerard, who had the office next door.

Liv pushed back from her desk, left her office, and hurried over to rap on Dana’s door.

“Come in.”

Liv poked her head inside the office. “Do you have a second?”

“Sure, sure.” Dana looked up from her computer and waved for Liv to take a seat. “What’s up?”

Liv came in and sat down, closing the door behind her. Now that she was here, she didn’t really know how to broach the topic. She was asking Dana to divulge a client’s personal information, and that was an absolute no-no, right up there with “don’t microwave fish in the office kitchen.”

“You manage Matilda Merris’s account, right?”

“I do.”

“She’s pretty reclusive?”

“Matilda values her privacy, yes.”

Liv blew out her breath and sank back against the cushion. “Little wonder.”

“You need to get hold of her?” Dana arched an eyebrow.

Liv nodded.

“Because…?”

She might as well be honest. Dana was a friend. Liv told Dana the whole story about Nick, including their time together back in college.

Dana’s eyes rounded. “He just pops back into your life after five years to ask a huge favor?”

“Yeah, it does sound pretty sketchy when you put it like that.” Liv pulled a palm down her face. “I blame my sister.”

“What did Amy do now?”

Liv told her about Amy inviting him to the anniversary party that was no more.

“Do you want to help him?” Dana cocked her head and studied Liv with a speculative expression.

“I do,” Liv said, admitting it to herself for the first time as much as to Dana.

“Are things heating up again between the two of you?”

“Yes, no…I don’t know.”

“Hmm.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m worried,” Dana said.

“What about?”

“That you’re using Nick to salve your wounds in the aftermath of your parents’ break up.”

Was she? Maybe.

Dana shook her head. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Is it so wrong that I want to use him for a distraction?”

“I get it. I was eight when my parents divorced, and it took me years to come to terms with the split.”

“Nick is helping me, too,” Liv said. “I said I’d try to find a way for him to meet Matilda if he’d help me be less uptight.”

“I see.”

“You conflicted.” Liv squinted. “Why’s that?”

“I’m assuming that your sudden desire to change yourself has something to do with Billy Lawrence’s attempt to modernize his father’s venerated company into some relaxed, free-wheeling, open-concept agency.”

“Possibly.”

“Boz issued me the same edict.” Dana shrugged. “I just ignored him.”

Whew! That was good to know that she wasn’t singled out as a stick in the mud. Apparently, the stick-in-the-mud club had multiple members.

“I’m who I am, and if Billy Lawrence doesn’t like it, he can fire me. I’m not about to quit.” Dana jutted out her chin in comical defiance. “Good luck trying to find a legitimate reason to dismiss me.”

“Did I ever tell you that you’re my shero?” Liv laughed.

“Many times.” Dana grinned. “Don’t let the old goat get to you. Be yourself.”

Liv said, “But, what if I am too uptight?”

“Then change for yourself, not for Billy Lawrence.”

“I appreciate your advice.”

Dana studied her. “I can’t give out Matilda’s contact info.”

“Of course not.”

“She’s been hounded by the media for decades.”

“I understand if you can’t help, but I was hoping maybe you could introduce me to her. Perhaps she’s coming to the company Christmas party?”

If Matilda came to the Christmas party, then Liv could invite Nick as her plus one and introduce them both at the event. It was a long shot, but hey, sometimes long shots paid off.

Dana tapped on the keyboard and started shaking her head. “She RSVP’d that she won’t be attending.”

Rats. Liv got to her feet. “Okay, thanks for trying.”

“But...” Dana’s gaze trained on the computer screen.

“Yes?” Liv leaned forward and caught her breath.

Dana shifted her gaze and caught Liv’s eyes. “Matilda is participating in the Kringle Christmas Art Show this very weekend.”

“Really?” Excitement quickened her pulse. She was thrilled to have some information to pass on to Nick.

“To avoid the wrong kind of publicity, she’s entered under her nickname and her mother’s maiden name. Matty Lunsford.”

“Oh, thank you, Dana. That’s so sweet of you to share this information.”

“Just be cautious, okay? Matilda is in her seventies, and she’s spent her whole life hiding from her father’s tainted reputation. She deserves kindness and understanding, not exploitation.”

“I agree.”

“I’m trusting you not to cause her any pain.”

“I won’t.”

“And your sportscaster friend?”

“I’ll make sure he treats her with the utmost respect and consideration.” Smiling, Liv turned for the door.

“Oh, and Liv?”

“Yes?” She swiveled her head over her shoulder to meet Dana’s gaze again.

“Make sure this Nick character does the same for you. The very last thing I want is for you to get hurt.”