“And yet, you’re smiling like a—”
I closed the door and leaned against it, crossing my arms. “Do
n’t censor yourself on my account.”
Her eyes darted to the door, then to me.
“My brother will return momentarily. Perhaps there will be a Hail Mary in there for you. Except I know my brother and my assistant. Jordan shudders at the idea of sticky kid fingers. Pretty sure you’re not going to find a Santa in him.”
“He just has to pass out gifts. Surely he could do that. If not him, perhaps you—I mean we…” She growled. “Me. I could speak with a few of your employees to see who would like to earn a nice bonus for an hour’s work?”
“My employees are here to have a good time, Miss Kane. They are not here to work.”
She twisted her fingers. “I would wear the Santa suit if I could get away with it.” She scrubbed her palm against her skirt. “You know what? I could probably do it. I’ll just send Mel back to my headquarters for one of the smaller suits. I can make this work.” She pulled out her phone and paced the length of my brother’s office.
There was no way I should be attracted to a woman dressed like she was a cross between an elf and a man’s wet dream. I was going to fantasize about her endless legs wrapped around my damn neck for days.
Just what I needed when I went to my cabin.
It was in the middle of nowhere. I could possibly find someone to fill the hours with in the small ski resort town, but I generally didn’t bother.
Maybe I needed to pick up another bottle of Bushmills on my way out of town.
I dropped into my brother’s large executive chair behind his desk and swung from side to side as Miss Kane wore a tread into the Aubusson rug. She was tenacious, I had to give her that. She made three phone calls before wrapping her hand around her cell phone and tapping it to her forehead in frustration.
She checked the slim gold watch on her wrist and tipped her head back.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked the readout. Jordan.
Her phone made a similar pulse. Her face relaxed. “Thank God.”
I checked my message.
Jordan: You know I don’t play Santa right? Not even for Gigi Hadid.
I laughed.
“What? Did Jordan find someone?” She rushed over to my brother’s desk.
“Didn’t you just get a text too?”
“Yes. He just said he was coming upstairs to speak with me.”
“Hate to break it to you, but there’s no Santa coming to save you.” My phone buzzed along the desk. I lifted it and my smile slid away.
Parker: You still have the Santa suit don’t you?
No way was I putting that on.
Hell no.
Fuck no.
She twisted her fingers. “What? Is there news?”
Those damn blue eyes. Fuck.
No.