Holiday Playbook--A Christmas workplace romance

by Yahrah St. John

  “Baby girl.” He smiled down at her. “You’re looking radiant.”

  “I wonder why.” Julian snickered.

  “Do you know something we don’t, boy?” Their father’s voice boomed over at his middle son.

  “Of course not.” Julian ignored the curious look on Josiah’s face and went to sit next to his wife.

  “I, for one, think we should be celebrating Gigi’s accomplishment this week,” Josiah stated.

  “I agree,” Roman said, trying to keep Ethan from running around the room. “Shows what hard work and true grit can do. Let me get you a drink. What will you have?” he asked, glancing in Giana’s direction.

  “I’ll have a bourbon neat.”

  “Since when do you drink bourbon?” her mother asked. “Isn’t that a man’s drink?”

  “Women drink it, too,” Giana defended herself. She was starting to like the liquor since it was Wynn’s favorite.

  “Bourbon coming right up.” Roman headed to the bar and began making her drink.

  Giana desperately wanted the heat off her and headed toward her nephew, who was sitting on her sister-in-law Shantel’s lap. “Hey, sis.” She gave her a kiss on the cheek. “How’s Ethan?”

  “As big as ever,” Shantel responded. When Giana went to pull the baby into her arms and take a seat beside her, Shantel whispered in her ear, “You might want to cover the love mark on your neck.”

  Giana flushed with embarrassment. “Really?”

  Shantel nodded, and Giana immediately pulled up the turtleneck she was wearing. She was going to kill Wynn!

  “Here you are, Gigi.” Roman came forward and handed her a bourbon, which his son thought was for him. “Not for you, little man.” Roman placed the tumbler on the cocktail table. “I’ll set this aside for when you’re ready.”

  “Does everyone have a drink?” Josiah asked. “A toast to Gigi.”

  The entire Lockett family lifted their glasses.

  “Thank you, everyone. You didn’t need to, but I appreciate the shout-out,” Giana said.

  “I’m surprised Starks held out for as long as he did,” Roman replied. “You’re like a dog with a bone when you want something. You won’t let go.”

  “Rome!” his mother quickly chastised him. “Your sister is not a dog.”

  Roman rolled his eyes. “Not what I meant. Only that she’s tenacious.”

  “It’s how I raised her to be.” Her father’s chest was puffed up with pride.

  “You’ll never find a husband that way, Giana,” her mother responded. “Sometimes a man wants a soft place to land.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake, Angie. Let Gigi have the win.”

  Her mother only allowed their father to call her Angie. To everyone else, it was Angelique. “Fine. I want the best for my only daughter, and now the boys are settled, I’d like to see Giana start thinking about marriage and having a family.”

  “One day, Mama. One day,” Giana replied. She handed her nephew back to Shantel, picked up her glass and headed to the French doors, where Xavier had parked himself away from the fray.

  Giana sipped her bourbon. “Why are you hiding out over here? Calling your girl?”

  Xavier gave her the evil eye. “I told you I was keeping that on the down low. Just like I’m keeping your little secret.”

  Giana frowned. “What secret?”

  Xavier chuckled, and she watched him swipe his iPhone screen several times before showing it to her. Giana gasped. In living color, for the entire world to see, was a picture of her and Wynn at Latitudes in a lip lock.

  “Who else has seen this?” she whispered.

  “Just me,” Xavier replied with a grin. “But it won’t stay a secret for long. You’re a Lockett, Gigi.”

  “Damn!” she muttered underneath her breath.

  “What are you two conspiring over here about?” Julian asked, coming into their tight circle.

  “Nothing,” Xavier said, deadpan.

  “You’re a terrible liar, X,” Julian stated and looked at Giana. “Is this about WS?” He used Wynn’s initials.

  “You know about him and Gigi?” Xavier inquired.

  “Uh, yeah. I’m her big brother and confidant,” Julian responded.

  “Excuse me,” Giana said. “I’m standing right here, and I don’t appreciate being talked about as if I’m not. Julian, to answer your question, Wynn and I went out the other night, and it appears we were captured on camera.”

  Xavier handed Julian the phone. “Oh!” Julian exclaimed.

  “What?” She glared at him. “I’m a grown woman.”

  “Clearly,” Julian stated, handing the phone back to Xavier. “But this will get out, you know.”

  “Understood, and I’ll handle it in my own way. But for now can we enjoy a quiet family dinner?”

  “Sure, sis.” Xavier put the phone away. “Tonight is about your victory.”

  However, the victory was hollow for Giana, because she knew the real world would quickly impede on the little bubble she and Wynn had created for themselves over the weekend. The two of them would be a big scoop, and everyone in town would want to know how reclusive billionaire Wynn Starks had snagged Atlanta’s football princess.

  Giana would have to put on her thinking cap and figure out how she could spin this in their favor.

  Twelve

  Giana couldn’t believe how easily she’d gone from career-minded single girl to lust-starved female in a week, but she had, and it was all because of Wynn. He brought out the sensual side of her nature and her competitive spirit. This morning after she’d woken up in bed alone, she’d found him downstairs in his gym pounding a punching bag. She’d greedily drunk in his naked torso and clearly defined muscles.

  Then she’d joined Wynn. He’d picked up a couple of punch pads and allowed Giana to give it a go. She surprised him by launching a few jabs she’d learned from her brothers, but Wynn was fast and ducked quickly. That only spurred Giana on until eventually she landed a right uppercut on Wynn’s jaw, making him stumble backward. She smiled when she thought about Wynn reaching for her in retribution until she landed on the mat underneath him. Her clothes quickly evaporated, and the rest, as they say, was history.

  “Care to walk with me to get some coffee?” Roman asked from the doorway of her office as he interrupted Giana’s sexual rewind several days later.

  “Sure,” Giana said, joining him in a walk to the cafeteria in high-heeled stilettos, tailored slacks and a silk blouse. “What’s going on?”

  “Not here.” Roman shook his head as they passed several executives on their way.

  Giana glanced at him, not liking his authoritative tone. Once they were alone again and nearly to the cafeteria, she grabbed her brother’s arm and pulled him aside. “Roman, what’s going on?”

  “Maybe you can tell me,” he said, pulling out his phone to show her a picture of her and Wynn kissing on Friday night.

  Giana sucked in a breath. “So, you know. So what?”

  “So what?” Roman’s voice rose. “How long has this been going on, Gigi?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Like hell it isn’t,” he hissed quietly. “Is this why Starks gave us his business? Please tell me you didn’t—”

  “Don’t you dare finish the rest of the sentence, Roman Lockett. The partnership between Starks Inc. and the Atlanta Cougars is a good one. This had nothing to do with our private relationship.”

  Roman lowered his head. “Of course. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have implied otherwise. It’s just...” He paused. “When I saw the photo, I wanted to punch the guy for messing with my baby sister. I know how hard you lobbied for his business, and if he took advantage of you in any way...”

  “I’ll tell you what I told Julian and Xavier. I’m a grown woman and I can fight my own battles.�
�

  Roman’s eyes grew wide with concern. “Are you telling me they knew about this before me?”

  Giana rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s not a competition, Roman. But yes, I confided in Julian. And Xavier, he saw me coming in late.”

  “If he saw you, then that means...”

  Giana smiled. “He was creeping, too.”

  “Does everyone in this family have secrets?” Roman wondered aloud. “Now that I’m married with a baby, I seem to be out of the loop.”

  “You’re not, Rome,” Giana said, tucking one arm through his as they walked. “But you are in a different phase in your life. And it’s okay. I’m glad you’re happy with Shantel and Ethan.”

  Roman grinned, showing off his naturally straight teeth. Giana had always been jealous; she’d needed to get braces when she was twelve to achieve her pearly whites. “Thank you, Gigi. So, what are you going to do?”

  “What do you mean? Wynn and I are dating. Or at least we started to, and we’ll take it from there.”

  “Is that what you’re going to tell Mom and Dad?”

  “I haven’t exactly gotten that far. This is a very new development. Can’t I have a second to enjoy it before I have to figure it all out?”

  “Of course. I want you to be aware Mama is going to hear wedding bells.”

  “She can hear them all she wants, but right now this is totally casual.” Or at least that’s what Giana was telling herself, even though her belly flip-flopped and her heart skipped a beat every time she saw Wynn.

  I mean, really, when all is said and done, how long will it really last?

  * * *

  “How would you like to respond to a request for interviews about your relationship with Ms. Lockett?” Sam asked Wynn later that afternoon.

  “My relationship?”

  “Yes, several local newspapers caught wind of your outing on Friday night.”

  “They did?” Wynn asked, coming toward Sam, who was nervously holding his iPad.

  “Oh, I forgot, you hate social media,” Sam said. “Which is why I keep track of yours. You and Ms. Lockett were caught in a rather compromising position at Latitudes, and it’s been tweeted several times. Here, look.” Sam handed Wynn the iPad.

  There it was in color, for all the world to see: Giana and him wrapped up in each other’s arms as if they couldn’t get close enough. Wynn scanned a few lines of one of the articles, which was all speculation on how he as a reclusive bachelor was ready to let loose with Atlanta’s favorite daughter.

  He thrust the iPad back at Sam. “You can respond with no comment. I’m not going to discuss my love life with the media.”

  “You realize that’s only going to fan the flames.”

  “Maybe, but I’ll need to speak with Giana first. Can you give me some privacy?”

  “Of course,” Sam said, leaving the office. Once the door closed, Wynn reached inside his jeans pocket and pulled out his iPhone. Over the weekend, he’d made sure Giana put her personal number in his phone so he had direct access to her and vice versa, whenever the mood struck.

  She answered on the second ring. “Hey, you.”

  “Hey, yourself,” Wynn said. “How’s your day going?”

  “Well, it could be better if I wasn’t dodging questions about the nature of our relationship. How long we’ve been seeing each other and the like. How about you?”

  “Same. It’s why I called. I thought we should sync up on our stories.”

  “There is no story but the truth,” Giana replied evenly. “We’re newly dating.”

  “Do you really think the media will take that at face value?” Wynn inquired. He’d known some salacious tabloids to make up fodder just to sell newspapers.

  “If you want, we can tell our side of the story. You know, make it official. I’ve got the annual Christmas event coming up on Saturday night, and I’m in need of a date. Care to join me?”

  “Of course. Will I see you later?”

  “Afraid not. I have a 6:00 p.m. meeting with one of my players and their agent.”

  Wynn glanced at his watch. It was only three o’clock. “No problem. I’ll wait for you.”

  Seven hours later, Wynn was starting to get anxious. He’d known Giana was going to be late, but he hadn’t anticipated she’d be occupied the entire night. He’d already run five miles, made dinner and watched Jeopardy!, his favorite guilty pleasure, before falling off to sleep. He hadn’t realized how late it was until the ten o’clock news came on and Giana hadn’t arrived.

  Despite telling himself their relationship was casual, Wynn had gone through the trouble of lighting some candles and chilling a bottle of champagne, but now the candles were burned to the wick and the ice in the champagne bucket had melted. He was surprised when his doorbell rang.

  Wynn glanced down at his watch. It was ten fifteen. He slowly walked to the door and looked through the window, making out a feminine form.

  Giana.

  He swung open the door. “Do you have any idea—”

  The words died on his lips when he saw what Giana was wearing: a trench coat open to reveal the most delicious lace bustier and G-string getup. The jet-black creation was trimmed in red and tied together at the waist. It flattered every curve from the lace cups showing her ample cleavage to her round hips, which gave way to slender thighs encased in a pair of sheer thigh-high stockings attached to garters.

  Wynn licked his lips.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” Giana began with a sexy pout on her scarlet-red lips, “but I was hoping this might make up for it?”

  “Come here, woman.” He hauled her to him, lifting her off her feet and carrying her inside the house. He brought his mouth down hard on hers, his hand tightening in her hair, which she’d blessedly left hanging in soft curls down her shoulders. He kissed her fiercely, instantly lost in the heat and softness of her lips. When he deepened the kiss, her fingers curled around him, gripping, tugging and tearing at his shirt. Once he was bare-chested, she ran her fingers over his skin, touching his stomach, and his body became taut.

  “I need you now, Giana.” His voice was thick with desire.

  “I need you, too.”

  Wynn didn’t think he was going to make it to his bedroom, and he didn’t even try, because she was already tugging at his belt, then the button and zipper on his jeans, finally dragging them down his legs. He stepped out of them only to return and kiss her anywhere he could find purchase: her face, her throat, her collarbone. And when he came to her breasts, he cupped them before bending down to lick the tips through the fabric of her bustier. They hardened beneath his tongue, so he took one nipple in his mouth and sucked hard through the fabric.

  “Wynn...”

  He heard the pleading in her voice and answered by wrapping one of her legs around his waist and snatching the flimsy G-string fabric away, ripping it into shreds. He would have to get her a new one. In the meantime, he reveled in the way Giana melted against his fingertips, rocking against his hand. He felt her tighten around his fingers.

  “Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Don’t stop—”

  Her muscles tensed and she gasped, arching her back as she completely unraveled around him.

  * * *

  Giana felt dazed and disoriented. She watched Wynn reach for a condom in his jeans pocket while simultaneously holding her upright. He tore it open with his teeth and smoothed it on his steel length. Then he was shifting upward and driving inside her.

  “Wynn—”

  He kissed her through her moan, swallowing her words as pure animal instinct took over. She tilted her hips, welcoming the sweet intrusion of having his length fill her. Then he began thrusting hard and fast, giving her exactly what she needed. Her nails sank into Wynn’s shoulders as she surrendered to the moment, and soon, Giana found herself tipping closer toward
the edge.

  Wynn growled low in his throat as he found a steady rhythm and pounded into her. When he reached the pinnacle, he called out her name, and she called out his when yet another orgasm rocked through her. Their voices were a harmony of pleasure and need. Afterward, Giana’s legs gave way, and she might have fallen to the floor, but Wynn held her up with his strong hands and thighs.

  “I’ve got you,” he murmured.

  And he did. In one swift movement, he was swinging her into his arms and kicking his clothes out of the way as he strode toward his bedroom.

  Thirteen

  “Tell me again why I agreed to do this,” Wynn said when he and Giana were on their way to her Christmas charity event the next Saturday. He looked especially handsome in a black tuxedo with satin lapels and a black shirt.

  “Because you agreed to my terms.” Giana smoothed her hair, which she wore in an elegant side-swept style that went well with her one-shouldered tulle gown by Elie Saab. Giana adored the dress’s glittering gold and burgundy colors. Intricate beading ran across the bodice and down one side, while the other side was slightly sheer and had a flower pattern. “We can’t just stay at your place. We have to go out sometime.”

  Over the last week, when she wasn’t at work or overseeing one of the numerous charities funded by the Lockett Foundation, she had been with Wynn. After Monday night, when she’d arrived at his place in a trench coat and lingerie, their relationship had settled into an easy rhythm. A few nights Wynn cooked, which Giana was happy about, because she hadn’t inherited her mother’s natural penchant for domesticity.

  Wynn, meanwhile, loved to show his culinary skills. And now that he knew she was a pescatarian, he’d cooked several new dishes that had turned out to be quite delicious.

  “We went out last night,” Wynn said, fidgeting with the bow tie she’d insisted he wear because it matched the colors of her dress. She knew their being matchy-matchy might make a statement that they were a couple, but they’d both agreed they would make their relationship status official tonight. Not only with the media, but also her family.