“Wow,” I exclaim on entering Mr. Light’s office. I go straight for the giant window that sits behind his desk, inviting myself farther into the room. The snow is falling in thick waves onto the mountain, lit only by the moon. The city lights don’t encroach on his space. “This window would look beautiful with lights around it to light up the snow.”
“I’ll have it done,” he says immediately.
I look over my shoulder at him. He stands with his legs slightly spread and his arms crossed across his chest. He’s watching me, but his face reveals nothing of what he’s thinking.
“Your office isn’t decorated like the rest of the house.” I turn to face him. His space in here is dark, just like him. The wood of the desk is a deep brown, matching the wood floors and the bookcases lining the walls.
“Maybe you could decorate it for me. You do a wonderful job at the mall with the decorations.”
The simple compliment warms me, and a blush hits my cheeks.
“I think whoever did the party does a better job than me.”
“No. I disagree.”
“It’s so beautiful,” I counter.
“I’m starting to find a lot of things about Christmas beautiful.”
I drop my eyes from his, trying to hide my ever-deepening blush. I don’t know how he’s doing that so easily. When he says Christmas, it feels like he's talking about me and not the holiday. The room grows quiet, and I peek up through my eyelashes to see him staring at me.
“Are you closing the mall?” I blurt out, unable to hide my thoughts. Finally, his face changes and his mouth tightens. I drop my head and look down at the floor again. His non-answer is pretty much an answer. I think about everyone losing their jobs and wonder why he would want to close it. I know the mall does well.
I feel his finger under my chin as he lifts my face to look up at him. I don’t know how he moved without me hearing up. My mouth opens a little at the softness now on his face. He looks so much more handsome like this. The smell of him wraps around me, and I want to lean into him.
“You want the mall to stay open? It stays open. Say the word and I’ll give it to you.” He rubs my chin with his thumb, back in forth in slow motions.
“I don’t want it to close.”
“Done,” he says, dropping his hand. I smile up at him, and he returns it. It doesn’t look like something he does often. No laugh lines mark his face. “But I’m going to need you here. Not there.”
“I-I…” I stumble over my words, not understanding what he means. “I’m here now.” I point out the obvious. I’m still not sure why I was asked to come.
“I need you more than tonight. In fact, I’ve set up a room for you.” His words are flat, carrying no emotion in them. He seems like he’s not used to having to ask someone for something. Or maybe he’s not used to people at all. That's what the rumors are, but there’s a party downstairs that says otherwise. I can't piece this man together. One moment he’s charismatic and happy, and the next, brooding and reclusive. Which one is really him, and why do I have a heavy desire to find out?
“Okay,” I say, and watch the smile come back to his mouth. I like that. I like it a little too much. It’s not like when I try to make other people smile. This feels different, like a victory not many can get from him. “But tomorrow is Christmas. Should I come back—”
“No,” he says hurriedly. “I’ll need you for the rest of the night until the party is over. And the roads will be too bad for you to leave by then, I’m sure.”
“Others will be doing the same, driving down the road.”
“I have no concern about the others.”
I take a step toward him and place my hand on his chest. It’s a bold move to step into his personal space, but something about him and his strength is pulling me to him. I’m not able to control my body as I close some of the space between us.
“I worry. Maybe we should cancel the party if you think people can’t get back down the mountain safely.”
His eyes drop to my hand, and I feel his breathing pick up.
“I have trucks clearing the road all night.”
“I have a feeling you wanted to make sure no one got stuck here,” I giggle, and watch the side of his mouth pull into a half-smile. “So if they can leave, can I.” The smirk drops. “Not that I’ll be going,” I add, wanting the smirk back on his face.
He raises his hand and brings it to rest on mine, as if he thinks I’m going to take it away.
“Should we get back to the party? It’s why I’m here, after all.”
“I don’t want to go back down there with all those people.”
“Then why did you invite them?” I flex my fingers under his hand, savoring his warmth.
There’s something that’s passing between us, a familiarity. It’s like we’ve known one another for decades instead of moments. The pull between us is growing, and for a second my heart squeezes. It’s like I’ve been looking for my lost half and now here he is, standing in front of me. Which is insane, because I don’t even know him.
He doesn’t answer my question. “I don’t want you to go down there, either,” he admits, puzzling me even more. I don’t want to go. Well, not if he’s not coming with me.
“I think you need to be a little more festive.” I pull one of the candy canes I stole off the tree from my pocket and place it in his suit jacket pocket. “There.”
I go to pull away from him to head back to the party, hoping he will follow. But he doesn’t free my hand from his chest.
“We’ll go together, but you’ll stay at my side. I think you’re festive enough for the both of us.” A pang of hurt runs through me at his words and the idea that he doesn’t like my outfit. Maybe he thinks I look silly. His laces his fingers with mine, using his other hand to pull the candy cane from out of his suit jacket. He pulls me towards his desk and opens the top drawer with a key. He places the candy cane inside and locks it again. He puts the set of keys in his pocket, and I raise an eyebrow.
“Was that the mall holiday ad?” I ask, having caught a g
limpse of it in the drawer. “I did that one! I helped make the design and everything. I’m even in it.” I beam at him as he pulls me from the room without responding.
“You sure are moving fast to a party you don’t want to be at,” I giggle at him. His hand tightens in mine, but I think I catch a twitch of his lips.
“I just want it to be over and for everyone to go,” he mumbles.
“But not me?” I tease, but he once again doesn’t respond. “Fine. Fine. Fine. Don’t answer another one of my questions, but know this, Mr. Light. I’m going to make sure you enjoy every second of this party.”
I’m still unsure of what my role is at this party, but I know one thing. I can make Mr. Grumpy a little happier.
Chapter Six
“Call me Nic,” I whisper in her ear as I pull her toward the dance floor.
“All right,” she says, and I can hear the shyness in her voice. “Some of my friends call me Chris.”
“I like Christmas,” I admit, not wanting to be like her friends. I want to be special to her.
“Me, too. I think people don’t like using it other times of the year.” She smiles and shrugs, but I make a vow to only call her by her full name.
“Dance with me?” It’s a question, but we are already in the middle of the dance floor when I pull her to me, placing her hand in mine and my other on the small of her back. There’s no room for her to say no.
“I’m a terrible dancer,” she admits, but I press her soft curves to my body and tighten my grip.
“Me too. So we’ll go slow.” I smile at her, feeling the pull of my cheeks. I can’t remember the last time I smiled so much.
The band is playing a soft version of Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire, and I move in time with the leisurely beat. I look into her dark green eyes, thinking about how I’ve waited so long to have her in my arms and here she is.