by Dana Volney
“Do you want a pop?” he asked. He’d already thrown a pack of Junior Mints on the counter.
“Yes, root beer. And butter on my popcorn.” She caught the eye of the attendant. “The butter in layers, please.”
“That’ll be a date pack with a Pepsi and root beer and”—he swiveled his head toward her—“anything else?”
He was so close that his juniper-and-oak scent surrounded her and beckoned her closer. She wouldn’t have to lean far to touch him, to put her lips against his.
“Milk Duds,” she whispered as her gaze dropped to his lips before she turned away and focused on grabbing as many napkins as humanly possible so that the blush that was surely reddening her cheeks would go away and he’d just think she really liked the chewy chocolate candy.
The lanky boy behind the counter rounded up the food and put it in a black tray with a little section for each item they’d ordered.
Lorelei reached into her purse for her card and stretched out her hand right as the kid was taking Henry’s. Her brow wrinkled as she stared at him.
“My treat.”
His treat. Yeah.
He picked up the tray, and she opened the door to the first of three theatres in the mall.
She and Henry were among only a handful of couples in the giant room. The intimacy made it fun, like they could whisper as if they were alone. They shared their candy, their arms touching the entire time.
When it was over, she carefully retrieved her mittens from her purse so he didn’t see the wrapped book. “I can’t remember the last time I took time out to do something like this.”
“What about with Silver and . . . who’s the other gal? Macy?”
“Maisy,” she corrected. “We go to brunch, but that’s the only time I seen them lately. I honestly cancel all the time on them now.” The cold air was making it tough to take a breath, but she took one out of defeat anyhow. “I’ve been so focused on work, I’ve let a lot of things slide that I shouldn’t.”
“I know the feeling.”
“I’m not trying to complain,” she quickly clarified. She was not in the mood to give off a pathetic vibe and let that be his last taste of this night.
“It’s hard when you get so focused on one thing,” he finally chimed in, and she was grateful to just stop talking.
It was late. The main mall had closed. More snow had fallen while they were inside. About three inches was already stacked perfectly on her car.
“I’m over there.” She pointed to the end of the near-empty lot, which had been packed when she’d arrived. She rubbed her hands together. “It’s freezing out here.”
“I’m there.” He pointed to the black Audi a row over from hers.
They walked in silence, the light flakes falling away with each step. There was going to be a lot more white in town when she woke up in the morning, which was perfect, because Christmas was only two days away.
“Do you have auto start?” he asked.
“Nope.”
He pulled keys out of his pocket and pushed a button, causing lights to flash and his car to start. “Get in and start your engine. Hand me your scraper.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to do that.”
He didn’t say a word—his look said it all. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She did as she was told and sat in her red Sentra, handing him her blue scraper. It had sleeted before settling into a perfect night snowfall, so she cranked up her defroster and watched him as best she could through her ice-drizzled windshield. He brushed off the snow layer and then methodically scraped at her windshield. He didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to care if she stood in the cold to clear off her car. But he did. He was a man of action.
The air rushing out of her car’s vents soon turned warm, and the lines on her back window started to appear. She sat facing forward even though Henry was working on the passenger side now. It was awkward to just sit here and let him clear her windows. She bent over to pick up some trash and stick it in her side-door pocket. Her car definitely needed vacuuming—this should be her next holiday vacation project.
Being independent was something she’d never give up, but once in a while she longed for companionship. Someone who could run to the grocery store, throw in a load of laundry, talk about shows with her in real time. Having another person to lean on, who cared about the kind of day you were having or who could let you sleep in while they made breakfast, wouldn’t be so bad.
She watched Henry in her rearview mirror now.
What am I doing? She slumped back into her leather seat that was now hot from the seat warmer. She was falling for her boss. The man she’d worked with for two years—that man. The man who was clearing snow off of her vehicle so she could stay warm. She was so screwed. She couldn’t date her boss, or even her partner, and be taken seriously. She couldn’t think of anyone who had made dating within the firm look like a good idea.
Nope. The relationships she’d known about hadn’t ended well or were inevitably the topic of gossip for quite a while. The last thing she wanted was people up in her business, assuming they knew her life and talking behind her back. She valued privacy. Hello! She’d gone years without mentioning who her mother was.
Henry tapped on her window with the tip of the scraper. She opened her door and crawled out.
“Thank you.” She tossed the scraper onto the passenger-side floorboard.
“You’re welcome.” His nose and the tips of his ears were red. It was adorable.
They stood there as fluffy flakes fell around them. Neither said a word, and neither looked away.
What was supposed to happen in this moment? Something was. It felt important. But Lorelei couldn’t decide if she was ready to make the leap yet, so chances were good she wasn’t. When they’d kissed before, it was because of the mistletoe, and they’d been together this week basically due to happenstance. She couldn’t afford to make a fatal error at this point. Not when she was so close. The only way she was going to be free to explore any type of personal relationship with Henry was if she made partner.
“I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner,” she said, breaking the silence.
“Yes.” He nodded, an odd mix of emotions flitting through his gaze. “Drive home safely.”
“You too.”
He turned and headed for his vehicle, whose defroster had melted the snow and nearly cleared off his windows.
The cold nipped at the skin on her legs. She sat back down and closed her door as she watched Henry get in his own car.
She’d worked way too hard to have her career cheapened by a fling.
Unless Henry wasn’t a fling.
Chapter Seven
Henry poured more wine into Lorelei’s glass and then his. Christmas Eve was off to a swinging start. Except for the game of Ping-Pong in his mind. He liked Lorelei, there was no denying that anymore. Could they date and still work together? Was she going to want that when he didn’t name her partner? Maybe he should take her on as partner after all. She would be the best choice. But then would she think it was because he wanted to date her? He had a sinking feeling there was no way this ended with him getting everything he wanted. If he ever decided what that was.
“Where’d you go yesterday?” Trent asked as he stuffed his mouth with another cheese cube from the appetizer tray their mom had set out.
“Out for a while.” Henry didn’t want to go into his time with Lorelei. It was private.
“Anything special?” Trent waggled his brows and looked between Henry and Lorelei.
“Nope. Just some errands.” Henry took a sip of his Malbec before anyone could spot his lie.
The day had been extremely normal—what he expected most couples did during holiday breaks or on the weekends: just be with each other. He’d succeeded in getting his shopping done—he’d ordered gift certificates to the golf course online, printed them, and found some envelopes. He’d also succeeded in spending time with Lorelei like he probably shouldn’t but wa
s actively trying to figure out a way to make happen again. After this evening, they had no plans or reasons to see each other outside of work. Fisher and Silver didn’t return until New Year’s Day, and that was simply too far away. Maybe he could invite Lorelei to a festival or even her family’s ranch. If she were a normal girl, he’d man up and ask her out. But the lines had become too gray between them, and he wasn’t sure where he stood.
After he’d cleared the snow from her car last night, they’d had a moment. He’d felt a spark between them laced with uncertainty. The only thing he couldn’t work out for sure was if that uncertainty was because she had feelings for him, too, or if she realized how inappropriate it would be to date her boss. The fact that they really shouldn’t be together made him want to pursue her even more.
“What did you and the family do yesterday, Trent?” Lorelei stepped in after the silence went on a little too long.
“We hit up some parks, shopped downtown, and then went around looking at all the Christmas lights in town. Some people really go all out. The boys loved it.”
“I bet it was beautiful with the snow.” Her nose crinkled. “You know, I haven’t even driven around this year. Usually I get out at least once to check them out.”
Here was his opportunity. He could ask her if she wanted to go tonight. It would be the perfect excuse to get her alone again.
“I’ll talk my dad into driving my mom and I around, blasting some music and drinking hot chocolate,” she said, solving her own problem before he could take advantage of the opportunity.
He was going to have to be more on his toes when it came to Lorelei.
“Thanks for having me over again, Mrs. Hale. Is there anything I can help with?” she asked.
“No, I think we’re set. I just need to put some of it in serving dishes now. You and Henry can set the table.”
“Will do.” Henry picked up the white Christmas dishes with gold garland laced up and down the edges. “The silverware is there.” He nodded to the counter, where the glasses and napkins were lined up.
Lorelei was right behind him grabbing stuff. “Do you switch who hosts Christmas each year?” she asked. “I don’t remember you mentioning them being in town before.”
“Yeah, we rotate. It’s better since the boys were born. It’s easier if Trent’s family doesn’t have to pack up and have Christmas on the road. Every once in a while, though, they come down.”
“That’s nice.”
“Do you always spend it at your parents’ here, or do you do destination Christmases?”
“Right here in town. I love Christmas in Casper. I’m not averse to traveling for other holidays, though.”
“New Year’s?”
“If it was somewhere good and I didn’t have to fight the holiday crowds at the airport, it wouldn’t be so bad.”
Buffalo was only a short drive up the interstate. He was going to have to work on his approach, but his plan definitely had merit.
• • •
Henry’s dad stood at the end of the table and clicked his glass with his fork. “I’m glad to have my family here to spend Christmas. We may not always be in the same place, but we are forever in each other’s hearts. And that’s why I’m pleased to announce that we are naming a new partner to Hale Law.”
Lorelei’s stomach flipped. This was the moment. Everything she’d been doing—all the long hours, all the prep work, and not seeing her friends much this year—it all was worth it for this moment. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears.
She glanced at Henry. Then froze. She’d expected to see him looking at her, smiling. Instead, his stare was fixed on his dad, and a wrinkle had appeared between his brows. His lips were pressed together. Suddenly the thudding was replaced with a ringing.
“Alicia,” Dwight continued, “welcome to Hale Law. We are happy to have you.”
Clapping commenced around the table, and just by muscle memory alone, Lorelei’s hands, too, were moving in front of her. Her eyes glazed over, and all she saw were her failings. They’d given the prize to a blood relative. They were a bunch of greedy, selfish, cliquish snobs. She was never going to make it in this firm. That was clear now. What wasn’t clear was whether Henry had known all along or if this was just as surprising to him. Not that he should care about the firm in Buffalo, but if he had any intention of making her partner, now would’ve been the moment. Now. In front of all the partners.
All four of them.
She slowly turned her head to look him dead on. There was a plastered sort of smile on his face. One of shock, really, like when you’re not exactly happy at the news but should be. He sat in his chair like a stiff cardboard cutout. She’d seen it before, when he was trying a case where the odds weren’t in his favor.
He didn’t look at her. By now, he had to know she was staring right at him, yet he didn’t move a muscle.
The clamoring of utensils on plates, people serving and requesting portion sizes commenced around them, and still, neither moved.
Yeah, he’d known all right. Maybe not about the Buffalo promotion but certainly the absence of hers. She glanced around the table at the festive green-and-red decorations and smiling faces. She didn’t belong here. She never had. She’d forced herself into a dinner and let it snowball from there, all the while thinking she was doing herself a big favor. But what she had really been doing this entire time was making herself look like a fool and dragging her emotions into the fight. She was a complete dimwit who hadn’t picked up on any signs that she wasn’t partner material, or family, or—and this was the hardest of all—someone Henry could care for beyond employee status.
“Excuse me,” she whispered to no one in particular as she scooted the wooden chair back as quietly as she could manage on the hardwood floor and placed her napkin on the seat. The last thing she wanted was to make a scene as she tried to leave as quickly as humanly possible.
She made it to the hall closet still dry-eyed and took her coat and purse, gathering it in her arms. There was no time to put it on. After drowning herself in whatever wine was in her kitchen, she was going to start looking for a new firm. She’d have her resignation on Henry’s desk before Christmas was over. She was good at her job, dammit, and very employable. A downright asset. Any firm would be lucky to have her.
“Lorelei.” Henry’s voice from behind startled her as she shut the closet door.
There was no reason for her exit at the ready on her tongue. She just wanted out of here. She was done looking weak to the Hales. To Henry.
She took a deep breath and blinked a couple of times, trying to dry any tears that thought now was a good time to appear. She turned around, setting her purse on the glass table against the wall. Someone leaving for a non-emotional reason would stop to put on their coat.
“It dawned on me that I should really be with my family for Christmas.”
“Christmas is tomorrow.” He spoke slowly, like he was testing the waters.
He’d already struck land.
“Then Christmas Eve,” she ground out between a plastered-on smile.
“Listen, with my dad’s speech and the whole partner thing—”
“Stop,” she blurted. She couldn’t. She couldn’t listen to whatever lame excuse he was going to give. Any words short of “you’re being named partner in Casper” were unacceptable. She slung her purse onto her shoulder.
“Actually, go ahead.” She met his stare straight on. Yes, she did want to hear this. From his mouth, in his own words, so she didn’t have to spend hours tonight making up the excuse he was intending to use. This would save her wallowing time and hopefully get her to the moving-on stage a lot faster.
“This whole week . . . ” He put his hands in his pockets and shook his head as he looked at the floor for a second. “It started out innocently enough and then snowballed. I didn’t stop your assumptions. I know I should’ve, but I didn’t.” He opened his mouth to say more but stopped himself.
He looked earnest and even sounded i
t. Like he believed what he was saying. Like he wanted her to trust his words, too. But there was no room for emotion in her journey anymore. She shouldn’t have let it—let him—in to begin with. If she hadn’t gotten wrapped up in her feelings for him, she would’ve seen the writing on the wall.
“There is no partnership offer even remotely on the table, is there?” She summoned all the strength she had left and prayed for a little extra holiday luck that he might still have the right answer.
“No. Not right now. In the future, maybe. I don’t know.”
“Did I even have a shot with them? With you?”
He took in a breath. “No.”
Her eyes widened, and she stepped back.
“I told them I don’t want a partner yet.”
Her heart sank so far into her chest she wasn’t sure if she was able to breathe. “You knew how badly I wanted to be named partner. And you used that.” Lorelei didn’t want to cry. It wasn’t professional. It wasn’t who she was. But, nonetheless, a tear slipped down her cheek. It was a betrayal of the tough persona that she wanted so badly to have right now. Business wasn’t supposed to be personal. Yet it had become that. And so much more.
“Lorelei, I’m sorry.”
“Too little, too late.” She stomped down the hall. “Merry Christmas.”
“Please don’t leave.”
“Here’s what you need to know.” She whipped around to face him and cleared her throat. “You can consider this my formal notice. My desk will be cleaned out first thing in the morning.” Her three open cases could be transferred to one of his other lackeys. She was done being the back on which he built his business while she profited none.
His jaw jumped as he perched his hands low on his hips. “Tomorrow’s Christmas.”
“I don’t care.” She clutched at her purse strap to stop the shaking she felt descending down her arms. “Second, anything that may or may not have started between us is over.” The first part of that sentence started off strong then weakened, but she got through it. She hadn’t imagined the spark between them was so hot that it would scorch her when it imploded.
