Charming Co-Worker: Holiday RomCom Standalone

by Lauren Runow

  My back is to him, right up against his chest. He places a hand on my waist, but I don’t know if it’s to touch me for the sake of touching me or to keep himself from losing his balance as he stands in the middle of the car.

  The doors open, and I’m the first to step out, handing my jacket to a woman who’s offering a coat check.

  The ballroom is iconic with its round dance floor and crystal chandelier. Talk about opulence. From the sixty-fifth floor, you feel like you’re floating among the stars with the most gorgeous view of New York City.

  People surround us on all ends, all dressed to the nines in ballgowns and tuxedos. Cameras flash, trying to get the best pictures of everyone as they enter.

  Branson places his hand on my lower back as he leads me through the cocktail hour. True to his word, he walks me around the room, introducing me to people as Katherine McGee. I don’t get to have work conversation yet, as everyone seems to be keen on discussing their recent travel plans and when they will open their Hamptons house for the season. A waiter walks by with caviar, and the champagne is even better than what we served at the Empire Media holiday party. It’s all so very high class and extravagant.

  I think about my time with Hunter’s family and how simple everything was and yet so perfect. There was something about seeing that man do the dishes that I found impossibly sexy. I giggle to myself, just thinking about how crazy that sounds.

  “Everything okay, love?”

  “Yes.” I wipe the smile from my face. “Just remembering something.”

  He seems put off by that. “Well, as they say, there’s no time like the present.”

  “Mr. Ford, you can take your seat. The dinner is getting underway,” a woman says as she turns to escort us directly to our table.

  She keeps her eyes on him, glancing back to him multiple times on the short walk from where we’re standing to our table on the dance floor. She pulls out Branson’s chair, and he sidesteps away, placing a hand on my chair to pull it out. I thank him as I lower myself.

  Branson takes his own seat as the hostess runs a hand down his arm in the most flirtatious way. I’m surprised to see he pays her advances no mind. Instead, his attention is on me. She whispers something in his ear, and he smiles a thank-you.

  The hostess leaves, and Branson picks up a glass of champagne sitting on the table to hand to me. “Happy New Year, Katherine.”

  We clink glasses, and when he places his hand around mine, I take in a sharp inhale as he pulls me close to him.

  “To new beginnings!”

  “Yes, the New Year will certainly bring on change.”

  “Not just the New Year. I told you, after you made your presentation, doors would be open to you. I see a promotion in your near future. Now, it’s just a matter of where you’ll go.”

  He drinks his bubbly, and I follow suit.

  “You sound pretty eager to get rid of me,” I joke, although I have to say, I’ll miss working for Branson.

  He lifts his dark brow and gives a grin. “I’ve quite enjoyed having you by my side these past two years, but as I told you when I hired you, I believe in stepping-stones.”

  “You were a great teacher.”

  “It was my honor to work with you. Soon, you’ll no longer be my subordinate, but a colleague. The rules will change.”

  I halt my glass against my mouth as I take in his comment.

  “Hunter must have been quite upset when he heard I was stealing you away from him tonight.”

  My eyes widen as I shift in my seat, almost spilling my champagne in the process.

  “Careful. You don’t want to cause a scene, love,” he says, scooting back slightly to ensure he doesn’t get his tuxedo wet.

  “I’m sorry. I was caught off guard by your comment.” I swallow. “Hunter and I haven’t spoken.”

  If Branson is upset by this in any way, it is clearly hidden by the dazzling smile across his princely face.

  A man walks up behind Branson and places a hand on his shoulder. Branson sees who it is and stands to shake his hand.

  “Richard, I’d like to introduce you to my date, Katherine McGee,” Branson says as he motions back to me.

  I have to blow out a breath. Tonight’s the first time he’s introduced me as anything other than his assistant. “Nice to meet you,” I say, trying to act unaffected. “Do you work within Empire Media as well?”

  Richard laughs, his round stomach threatening to pop a button on his coat. “Nope. I leave the magic up to this man right here. I’m a shareholder. Fantastic presentation you put on today.”

  “Thank you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. I was a bit nervous.”

  “Nonsense. You had a lot to get through in a short amount of time. What are your plans for the future?”

  This is it. This is why Branson brought me here tonight. “Media market strategy. Create new shows and find the best time slots for them based on ratings data.”

  He nods his head. “Wish I could help you. I’m in the tech industry. If you want to come on over to the dark side, just let me know.” He waves to someone across the room and then turns back to me. “It was lovely to meet you, my dear. You’ve got quite the catch with that one,” Richard says as he winks and heads off.

  I turn to Branson, who is now chatting with a woman who came over to him. I glance around the room and don’t recognize one person here. I guess I shouldn’t. This is the who’s who in media.

  Branson wraps his arm around me, his hand close to my hip as he whispers in my ear, “Let’s get another drink.”

  I hold up my empty champagne glass. He takes it from me.

  “I could go for some whiskey, I guess, to help take the edge off.”

  He eyes me dryly. “Since when did you start drinking whiskey?”

  “I always have. It’s something my father and I picked up on our travels.”

  Branson lets out a harrumph sound.

  I smile to myself at the thought of Hunter.

  “I notice things.”

  He noticed me long before our kiss at the bar.

  “A woman like you needs a drink with complexity.”

  “A woman like me?”

  We get to the bar, and he orders me a Vieux Carré. “It’s a mix of rye whiskey, cognac, sweet vermouth, Bénédictine liqueur, and bitters,” he explains with sophistication. “It originates from New Orleans.”

  I take a sip and admit it’s delicious, big in flavor, but it’s not my drink. I like the simple stuff. Straight-up whiskey.

  A tall man approaches Branson with an extended hand.

  “Jim,” Branson says. “Congratulations on an incredible year in cable news.”

  “Empire Media is doing a fantastic job in syndication. We’re looking at taking one of your documentary series to air in prime time,” Jim says.

  Branson nods with an all-business grin on his face. “We appreciate your continued support of our efforts.”

  Jim turns and smiles in my direction, and Branson finally speaks up, “Oh, Jim, I’d like to introduce you to my date, Katie.”

  The man reaches out to shake my hand. “Katie, so nice to meet you.”

  My blush extends down to my toes. This is James Bradley, president of the top-rated National Cable News Network. People kill to have him open an email from them, let alone shake his hand.

  The two men talk, and within minutes, I’m introduced to correspondents and reporters, heads of marketing and executive producers. Branson walks me around the room, and as he talks, I stand idly by, soaking in every word he says. With him, everything is a learning experience. I don’t take it for granted. I smile and nod, attempting to be as witty as possible while keeping all corny jokes to myself.

  And yet …

  Something feels off. We have dinner and share a dance. It’s a glamorous event, and I’m more than grateful to be here, yet as the clock ticks down and I see it’s getting closer to midnight, I have this odd feeling in my gut. I step outside into the lobby and look ou
t a giant window facing the Empire State Building.

  “Katherine,” Branson says from behind me when he finds me here moments later. “Is everything okay?”

  I turn to him with a smile and notice how his eyes roam over my décolletage a second longer than a gentleman should. “I just needed a minute.”

  “If you want to leave early, I’d be happy to escort you home.” With a purposeful step forward, he removes his hands from his pockets and says, “Or you could come back to my place for a nightcap.”

  My heart stops beating for a breath. The invitation is unlike any of the others. There is no misconstruing his intentions. Branson Ford is asking me to go back to his home as more than a boss and an assistant, as more than friends. He’s a man asking to be alone with a woman.

  “I had no idea you felt that way about me,” I state nervously.

  His hand runs over his mouth as he grins. “Honestly, I didn’t until recently.”

  “Hunter,” I declare, knowing why Branson suddenly finds me more attractive.

  “Does that make me a cad?”

  I laugh. “It makes you honest. And if I’m being honest, I’ve thought of you the same way. For a very long time.”

  His prince-like charm ignites that smile, and it takes my breath away. “That’s very good to hear. Soon, you won’t be my assistant, so we can explore a relationship.”

  “A relationship? Not just a fling?”

  “Perhaps we can start with a kiss.”

  Branson places a hand on my waist and pulls me in. That invigorating scent of peppermint overwhelms me as my chest becomes flush with his. His head leans closer, his mouth just inches away. His lips are about to close on mine. The moment I craved for so long is about to be here, and yet I turn my cheek. His lips land on my skin.

  The scowl of his mouth shows how confused he is by my decline of advancement.

  “I’m sorry, Branson, but I’m in love with Hunter.”

  His eyes narrow, and his lips purse. He steps back, and his hands are quickly in his pockets. “That’s a shame. The man won’t commit for long, you know.”

  “I’d like to give it a chance.”

  He takes a deep breath, and it makes his nostrils flare a bit. “You know, I brought you here to get you connections. Hunter can never help you in that way.”

  “That’s not me. I want it because of the work I’ve done, and I have shown my worth to deserve to move up in the company. Not because of who I’m dating.”

  “Being on my arm will open doors to you that no one else has access to.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “And what if I’m not on your arm?”

  “Katherine, love, what I’m saying is, I’m the man who can give you a future. Extravagant parties and powerful friends. I know you’re attracted to me. You said so yourself.”

  “That was before I opened my eyes,” I state.

  “Opened your eyes to what? What do you see?”

  I look down and smile. “That you’re a prince and this”—I wave my arm around—“is part of the fairy tale. But you see, I don’t want the fairy tale anymore. I want real life. I want whiskey at a bar and walks in the park on a cold December afternoon. I want dinner at home, on the floor, and cheesy games where you roll dice for a pair of socks. A man who will volunteer at a men’s shelter to be near me and because, deep down, he cares about others just as much as I do. I want someone who will take care of me when I’m ill, someone I will give up anything to support when they are at their lowest.”

  I bite my lip and think of Hunter. My spontaneous and playful Hunter. He’s idealistic and curious, and he knows how to pick you up when you’re having a bad day. On the surface, he appears like nothing can touch him—a rogue wanderer on the prowl for the next romance or adventure. Then, I sat with him and found that he’s the type of man willing to stay.

  What he shows the world is his outward charm, but if you’re one of the lucky ones, he’ll let you into his deepest hurts. That’s the thing about a Sagittarius; when things start to get heavy, they take off in a flash. In time though, he’ll prove to be the sincerest, most compassionate partner. A man sensitive to your deepest needs and darkest desires.

  He’s also observant. Hunter knew Branson only invited me because I was taken by another man. Where he was wrong is, I don’t want Branson anymore. I don’t even know if I ever really wanted him. It was the idea of him. Now that I know what it feels like to be held by a real man, I don’t want anything less.

  “I want a man who is all those things and more,” I breathe.

  “And you think you’ve found that?” he asks.

  I step forward and take his hands in mine. “I know I have.” With a kiss to his cheek, I whisper in his ear, “Happy New Year, Branson.”

  I grab my coat and head to the elevator.

  In the lobby, I open the door to the outside, which is bustling with people. New Year’s Eve is the most chaotic night in New York City with many filtering over from Times Square.

  A breeze picks up, and I wrap my arms around myself. I should have known better than to think I could catch a taxi, but I’m not in the right state of mind. I’m standing under the tree at Rockefeller Center, realizing I can go downstairs and catch the subway.

  I turn around to go back through the revolving doors when I hear my name being called.

  “Katie!”

  Tingles crawl up my spine as my insides warm, and I turn to see Hunter rushing through the crowds of tourists, making his way to the base of the tree, where I’m standing. His hair is brushed back, like he’s been raking his hands through it all day, and his jaw is ripe with the scruff I adore. He’s charging toward me like a man on a mission.

  A determined—and sexy—look is in his caramel eyes.

  “Where are you going?” he asks with bated breath as I ask at the same time, “Why are you here?”

  He grabs my hand in his. “I need to speak to you.”

  My eyes tear up as I say, “Me too. You were right. This. Him—”

  He moves up one step, bringing his body to mine. “Please, don’t say anything. I’ve been going over these thoughts in my head, and if I don’t get them out, I’m going to say it all wrong.”

  I nod and wait as I watch this beautifully disheveled man look at me with a mixture of hesitation, sadness, and pure admiration.

  “Katie, I always knew I wanted a forever love, but I could never stand anyone long enough to envision it with them. Until I met you. Now, I know you’re wondering how I can predict that you and I are going to last, and I can’t. There are so many things I don’t know, but here’s what I do know. I know your corny jokes are the best part of my day. Thinking of your smile is the only thing that gets me out of a bad mood, and your laugh is better than whiskey. You’re the only woman I want to run around town with, but I am equally as happy with staying in and doing absolutely nothing. Have I mentioned that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen? It’s true, and I’ve felt that since the moment I met you.

  “You’re smart and successful, and you should be here even if Branson does want more from you. I never trusted him because this, what we have, scares the hell out of me. I’m not quitting us though. I’m done quitting when the relationship gets hard. I want to see this through. You deserve a man who can take this beyond the first fight. And that man is me. I know that because, Katie McGee, I am without a doubt wildly in love with you. And I’ll be damned if you share a New Year’s kiss with any man who isn’t me.”

  I cry. And I laugh. And I smile big and bright and crazy as I grab this gorgeous man and kiss him. I kiss him long and hard and with so much passion that I feel it down to my toes.

  When we come up for air, our foreheads touch, and we have to take a moment to catch our breaths.

  “I love you, too, Hunter. You deserve a woman who will put you first. I knew how you felt about Branson, and I still made being with him on New Year’s Eve a priority.”

  He smiles, and that damn grin that I love so much ap
pears. “We have a lot to learn, kid.”

  I laugh. “Okay, now, will you please tell me what that is all about?”

  “Casablanca,” he states. “Rick wants Ilsa, but he can’t have her, so he gives her to another man who he knows will give her a better life.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t want the other man. Maybe she just wants Rick.”

  “Maybe Rick is so in love with her that he’ll do anything to make her happy.” He brushes a piece of hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear. “Baby, I’ve been in love with you for longer than you can ever imagine.” He brings my arms to around his neck, wrapping his hands around my waist. “My Katie McGee.”

  I lock my eyes with his. “I’ve always liked the sound of that.”

  “Me too.”

  When his lips meet mine, I feel it all the way to my toes. No matter how cold it is outside, nothing but warmth covers me when I’m pressed up against him.

  “Come on. Let’s have the New Year’s Eve we were supposed to have.” He tucks my body into his as we continue our journey down the steps.

  “And how’s that?” I ask, beaming so big at the sight and feeling of him here, next to me, willing to fight for me.

  “At the bar that started it all, of course. We’re past holiday harlot, so tell me, do you have a cheesy name for being a New Year’s girl?”

  I think for a second before saying, “You can play my strumpet?”

  His head falls back in laughter. “Do I want to know what a strumpet is?”

  I shrug. “That one’s more of a play on words rather than being a Christmas vixen, but I was put on the spot. And no, I’m not a prostitute, which is what the word means.”

  He kisses my head. “No, that you are not.”

  As we enter the bar that we first went to not even a few weeks ago, I can’t help but think of how much my life has changed. When I was here last, I was moping about the man I thought I wanted not wanting me. That’s when a chance kiss rocked my soul and opened me up to a world I’d never thought possible.

  Hunter points to the bar, where two seats are open. With his palm pressed against my lower back, showing the world I’m his, I take in every sensation that runs through me. The happiness of being with him. The way his hand feels so natural, so right, as he leads me in the correct direction. To the direction of us. The way it should have always been.