Page 39 of Merry & Bright
They talked for a while longer before Mike excused himself with a yawn. “Time to take myself off,” he said, standing up. “The twins’ll be up at six tomorrow regardless of what time I get home. As for you, go and dance. Have some fun. That’s what Christmas parties are for.”
Despite Mike’s parting words, Sam stayed in the booth after he left, too gobsmacked to move yet. He’d been wrong about so much. Mike didn’t think he was an idiot. In fact, he thought Sam was a good lawyer. He wanted to make him permanent, wanted Sam on his team.
And Nick had spoken to Mike. Had been worried about Sam.
Sam wasn’t sure what to make of that at all. He wasn’t sure what to make of Nick.
That Secret Santa gift.
Mr Perfect.
His first reaction had been that it must be a dig about his attention to his appearance. That maybe Nick thought he was vain. Shallow. But the tub of hair wax taped to the front of the mirror had been the exact same gorgeous-smelling, ridiculously expensive stuff that Sam really used. The same stuff that was three times the Secret Santa budget. Why hadn’t Nick chosen something cheap and tacky? It would have been just as funny.
Sam thought back over their earlier conversation in the Beehive, the humiliation he’d felt when Nick had let it slip that he knew Sam hadn’t been coping at work. Sam had been so mortified he’d barely registered much of what Nick was actually saying, but now he remembered Nick’s garbled words just before Penny had interrupted them.
—when I asked if I could tag along tonight, it was because I thought—I mean, it was because I wanted to—
What had he been about to say?
Sam had practically shredded the label on his beer bottle when the object of his thoughts slid into the booth opposite him.
“Hey there.”
Sam looked up, and something in his chest flip-flopped. Nick was smiling, brown eyes warm, hair crazy.
“Oh. Hi.” The words came out all breathless, and Sam wanted to slide under the table. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was his heart pounding, just from looking at Nick Foster?
“Everything go okay with Mike?” Nick was still smiling, but his brows were faintly furrowed, a hint of concern in the warm depths of his eyes.
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Great, in fact.”
The furrows smoothed, and Nick’s smile deepened, a small dimple flashing in one cheek. “Good.”
“You spoke to him,” Sam said. “Again.”
Nick eyed him carefully. “Are you pissed off about that?”
Sam considered that. “I probably should be,” he said after a beat. “But I’m too relieved.”
“I couldn’t stand by and say nothing,” Nick said. “Not after you told me how you felt. Not when I know for a fact he rates you. He’s just the worst at telling people how they’re doing. Basically, if he’s not saying he’sunhappy, he’s happy.”
Sam smiled. “I’ll bear that in mind for the future”
Their gazes caught and held for a long intimate moment, and suddenly Sam’s gut was churning again, this time with a restless sort of anticipation.
“So,” he said, trying to sound casual. “What was that Secret Santa gift about?”
Nick flushed, and Sam stared at him, fascinated.
“Were you pissed off aboutthat?” Nick asked at last. “You looked a bit—” He broke off, dark eyes searching Sam’s face. “I don’t know—maybe a bit... hurt?”
Sam canted his head to one side. “Should I have been?”
“No! Bloody hell, no! I didn’t mean to make fun of you!” Nick looked appalled at the thought. Then he took a deep breath and said, “Sam, the only reason I’m here tonight is because of you. I asked Monica to make sure I got your name for the Secret Santa, and I bought that ridiculously expensive hair wax because”—he closed his eyes, as though too embarrassed to say the next words while looking at Sam—“because I kind of love the smell of it on you. And I got the mirror to make it funny because the rule is that your Secret Santa present has to be funny.”
“Yeah, no one told me that one,” Sam said dryly.
Nick opened his eyes again. His lips twitched. “Let me guess. You bought the champagne for Paul.”