Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“What do you poor Yanks drink at Christmas?”
“Eggnog mostly. Which now seems completely inferior.” I take another sip, sighing as the warmth spreads through my chest. “Though honestly, I don’t do much holiday drinking. I’m too busy with work. I did ten parties in six days last December.”
“That’s criminal.”
“That’s business.” I tuck my stocking feet underneath me, wondering if I have the guts to pull off a Sarah from Love Actually and make Olly stand by the entrance to my room while I quickly change into something sexier.
I’d really rather not face my first one-night stand in a wrinkly, coffee-stained suit and my everyday underwear.
“This year was supposed to be different,” I continue. “I was going to take a week off for the holidays, then head down to New Jersey to spend time with family. But then this opportunity to pitch Fletchers came up, and…”
“And you couldn’t say no,” he finishes.
“Couldn’t afford to say no,” I counter. “My business partner and I just lost our biggest client, right after signing the lease on a fancy new office space we can now no longer afford. Money is tight, and if I don’t land this contract…” I sigh. “If I let Maya down after I promised I could handle this…” I trail off again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring down the vibes.”
I really didn’t. Ugh. So far, I suck at transitioning from flirting at the bar to sealing the deal.
“You didn’t,” Olly assures me gently.
I glance over to see a serious expression on his face for once.
“I get it,” he says. “I work a lot, too. And there’s nothing worse than feeling you’ve let a friend down. Or family.” He glances toward the fire as he adds, “My father used to say that as long as you’re trying your best, with integrity, there’s no need to worry about things like that, but…” He turns back to me with a wry smile. “He wasn’t a man who often made mistakes. He always seemed to know exactly what to say, what to do. Navigating a position of great responsibility and public scrutiny came easily to him.”
“He sounds like a wonderful man,” I say, sensing there’s a reason for the grief lingering beneath Olly’s words.
It’s a hunch he confirms when he adds, “He was. And very wise. I miss his wisdom the most, I think. And his laugh. This is our first Christmas without him.”
I cover his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must be.”
“Thank you.” He turns his hand over, threading his fingers through mine, sending a fresh tingle of awareness across my skin. “Now who’s harshing the vibes? Can you forgive me?”
I nod, my gaze locked on his, trying to pin down the exact color of his oh-so-magnetic eyes. They’re not purely blue or purely gray, but a mixture of the two, like the River Thames in winter.
It’s a romantic thought, not a sexy one, but I can’t help it. Sometime in the past hour, a part of me has started to wonder what it might be like to have more than a one-night stand with this man.
“Can I escort you to your hotel on the subway, Emily Darling?” he asks. “Not to be a cad, of course. I’ll behave myself. I just want to make sure you get home safely. The subway’s likely the only form of transport still operational in this mess, and it can be a little tricky if you’re new to the tube and had a few.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I murmur, knowing it’s now or never. I gather my courage, suck in a bracing breath, and add, “But what if I don’t want you to behave yourself?”
“No?” His eyes darken. “You don’t?”
I shake my head slowly back and forth, hyperaware of every point where we touch—hands, knees, the side of my thigh pressed against his. “No. I don’t.”
“Well, in that case, I—”
Reggie clears his throat nearby, making us both flinch. I glance up, shocked to see the bartender standing just a few feet away.
I was so locked in on Olly, I didn’t hear him coming…
“Sorry, folks,” he says, looking nearly as embarrassed as I feel. “Hate to interrupt, but I’ve got to lock up. Wife’ll have my head if I’m any later. We’re getting up at the crack of dawn to finish the holiday shopping, and her mum’s coming by to watch the kids. You know how it is.”
“Of course, thank you so much for letting us stay,” I say, bolting to my feet, wondering where my shoes have gotten off to.
“Absolutely, Reg, no trouble at all,” Olly says. Then, as if reading my mind, he points beneath our card table. “I think your shoes are under there, Em. If you want to fetch those, your purse, and your coat, I’ll rescue your suitcase from the manger, and we’ll be off. You said you’re in Mayfair?”