Page 5 of The Christmas Trap

“Yeah, right.” I chuckle.

Not a crack in his façade. If anything, his features grow more thunderous. He glares at me like it’s a forgone conclusion that he’s never going to say anything in jest.

“You’re serious.” My shoulders slump.

It’s just my luck to be stuck with a Grinch for my boss in my dream job. Assuming he’s going to make me his EA, that is.

“Very.” He eyes me with a disgusted look. “You, on the other hand, are a?—”

“Christmas groupie.” It’s best to rip this off like a Band-Aid. “I love everything to do with Christmas.”

He opens his mouth to, no doubt, retort with something scathing, when Tiny thumps his tail on the floor. He whines, then looks up at Mr. Davenport with what I can classify as a pleading expression.

“Fine,” Mr. Davenport grumbles, like he and the dog had some kind of unspoken conversation.

A thought strikes me. “You were walking the Great Dane; is that why you were late?”

He nods.

Anyone who brings his dog to work and takes the time to walk the pooch instead of tasking one of his team with it can’t be too bad, right? Never mind that he hates Christmas, which, in my books, is almost irredeemable.Almost.

“Let’s start over again, shall we?” He’s pushed aside whatever his aversion is to Christmas and is wearing an emotionless expression. One which is very difficult to interpret. I almost prefer the one that screamed his loathing of the festive season instead. “You must be Lark Monroe.”

His hard voice pronouncing my name does weird things to my insides. My scalp tingles. My throat dries. Vibrations gather at the base of my spine.What in the name of tinsel-coated trouble is happening to me?

I shouldn’t be this turned on by the sound of his voice. He might become my boss. Also, I’m engaged. Engaged.

This is not how a woman who’s going to be married in less than a month behaves.

I should be thinking of my fiancé instead. And my wedding preparations. And how thrilled I will be to walk down that aisle and tick another item off my life list.

Unfortunately, none of my admonishments help when my possible boss’s blue-gray eyes turn a dark indigo. Like the deepest, most unforgiving depths of the Atlantic. Where the waters are the coldest and light goes to die. I could dive into them and die happy.Filled with guilt.But very, very happy.

A-n-d. Time out.

Get yourself together, woman.

I shake off these unwarranted, and very wrong, emotions that this hot as Hades man seems to elicit in me.

Instead, I hold out my hand and take a step in his direction.

He ignores my attempt at a handshake and firms his lips."Why do you want to work for me?"

2

Brody

“I… I…” she stammers, then squares her shoulders. “You were voted one of the top forty CEOs under forty by a major business publication. I could learn from you.”

I stare at her, the flicker of disappointment sharper than I expected.

Not sure what I was hoping for, butthis,a recycled line about my profile she came across, isn’t it.

I created this new EA position because I need someone who can take over a large share of my day-to-day.

Someone competent enough to run a meeting if I can’t be there, and confident enough to lead in my place.

It’s part of my succession plan. I want the person in this role to eventually step into mine. I need an EA who can steady the chaos I’m pulled into every day. I want this person to grow into my replacement so I can move on to other things.