Page 13 of Falling For My Assistant

“Those… those are, um, interesting sweaters,” he said, cupping his hand over his face.

“They are ugly, you can say it,” she said, laughing. “We have a contest. Whoever can buy the ugliest sweater, wins.”

She leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “I get mine special made now. I tell them the worse the better.”

He raised a brow. “Wouldn’t that be considered cheating? To special order it instead of finding it out in the wild?”

She rolled her eyes, a sparkle in her eye. “My mom confessed to me that she special orders hers too. We always want to beat my dad, but somehow he always finds the ugliest ones. Not sure how he does it.”

She showed him the hideous winner, a terrifying combination of trees, elves, snow, lights, and what he assumed was a sleigh. He wasn't quite sure.

“That is truly terrifying,” he said, shaking his head.

“It is. But it’s one of the fun things we do at Christmas. Last year, I couldn’t go home, since my dad was sick, but we were able to video chat. He still won!”

She looked down at the picture, a soft smile tilting up her lips.

“It was so nice to go home. We open presents on Christmas morning, then Dad and I make Christmas dinner. My mom is a terrible cook, even though she tries. It doesn't always work out for her, though.”

Erin held her phone up, a picture of her mom and a burned ham appearing on the screen.

“That was the last time she tried to make dinner. She was so upset, but Dad and I picked off the mostly unburnt pieces and ate them.”

“That’s sweet,” Sean said, smiling.

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’d do anything for my parents.”

Her phone locked with a definitive click. “What about you? How was your Christmas?”

“It was good. My mom hounded me about Blair the entire time, though.”

He laughed, the sound ending on a sigh. “She was more upset about it than I was. When I told her we weren’t getting back together, she locked herself in a room for an hour.”

His head jerked up, realizing what he had revealed. “I…um…”

“Don't worry, I won’t say anything.”

He met her gaze, her blue eyes soft with sweetness and understanding.

“She isn't that bad all the time. She is just a little bit dramatic sometimes.”

His lips kicked up into a half smile. “My brother isn't married either, and she’s so worried she won’t have grandchildren. He’s only twenty-nine, and I’m only thirty-three. We still have time to have kids.”

“But do you want kids?” Erin asked. She was distracted for a moment by the lamp curing her polish. The technician pulled the lamp away so she could see them.

“Pretty!” she said, wiggling her toes. The dark-blue polish sparkled in the lights of the salon.

“That was a great color choice,” he said. “I’m very proud of myself.”

“It was. Good job, Mr. Stephens,” she said.

“You can call me Sean. My girlfriend won’t call me Mr. Stephens,” he said, drawing her eyes to him.

“Right.” She swallowed, then asked, “Do you want kids, Sean?”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t?” she asked.