Page 51 of Under the Mistletoe

My heart hurts a little thinking about his upbringing, but I guess it isn’t dissimilar to my own. Both of us were left by the people who were meant to love us the most.

“So no siblings?” I already know the answer.

“Nope, just me.”

“Same. I’m lucky to have my aunt and uncle, but I have no other family. Just me.” He grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze.

“And now here we are… together…” he says tentatively.

“Again… this pasta could change that fact…” I say playfully, and he barks a laugh.

“Sooo, I need to go to Milan after Thanksgiving. A quick trip, a few meetings, a festive fashion show. Four days or so. I want you to come with me.”

My breath catches. “Milan?” Did I hear him right?

“Yes. Italy. We’ll take my jet. I’ll arrange everything.”

My mind whirls as I try to process. I’ve never been out of the country before.

“As your advisor or as your…” I’m not sure what word to use to describe us yet.

“Both. As my advisor and as my girl.”

I roll my lips so I don’t beam. His girl.

“The media have been pretty intrusive, so I thought it might be nice to get away for a bit?” he continues, waiting for my answer.

“Okay…” I say softly, feeling the excitement bubble in my stomach.

“Okay.” His eyes glisten as he nods, happiness taking over his features.

He looks at his pasta with hunger. “Should we taste it together?”

“If we make it out alive, do you want to come to my place for Thanksgiving? Aunt Vivian makes the best turkey, and I try my best with the sides.”

“If the pasta doesn’t end me, I would love to,” he teases, and I grin as we dig in.

It ends up being the best pasta I’ve ever made.

21

Donovan

As Shelley delivers her monthly financial analysis to the executive group, my mind is elsewhere. I look over the gray skyline today, the weather a complete contrast to my mood. The days are getting shorter, colder, and Thanksgiving is around the corner, and for the first time in many years, I won’t be by myself. I can’t remember ever being this happy. I work hard, network harder, am always busy to the point I don’t even realize how I’ve been moving through the motions of life, not stopping to smell the roses.

Until Jessica.

“Looks great, Shelley,” one of my team says, and I glance up, seeing her presentation is now over. I don’t know her well, but she’s good friends with Jessica, and I appreciate her findings and reports each month. She’s very thorough.

“Thank you, Shelley. Let’s take a quick ten-minute break and reconvene after that,” I tell the group, and everyone stands and stretches, then goes to refill their coffees and answer a few emails before the executive meeting resumes, taking up the remainder of the day.

“Mr. York. Do you have a minute?” Shelley’s tone is professional, and I give her my full attention after looking around the room. Ashley is the only other person remaining.

“Ashley, give us a moment, please.”

“But Mr. York, you need to return the call to Asia…” Her lips purse, clearly not happy, but she can readjust my schedule; that’s her job, after all.

“Reschedule it.”