by Abby Knox
He could make her temperature rise just like that. His voice on the phone alone made her pale skin on her chest light up like a retro pink Christmas tree.
She self-consciously touched the skin at her neckline and up her neck. She felt the splotches spreading up to her ears. Then she got ahold of herself and flipped through her day planner because the fog in her brain made her totally forget what was happening today. Her sisters and brother would be at the after-school program at the parks and recreation department right now.
“Pickup is 5:25 today,” she said.
“Damn. That’s not much time.”
“For what?”
Devin hesitated. She had come to learn that whenever he paused like this, it was a sign he was considering whether to stop himself from saying something inappropriate.
“I’m going to kiss you again, Claire. And then I’m going to keep kissing you and then engage you in some heavy petting. Again. And then see where that leads us.”
She thought her face must have been so red it was purple by now.
Claire cleared her throat and replied in her most professional voice, “There won’t be time to finish all that. Also, remember, we’ll have to be at the holiday pie contest tonight.”
Devin sighed. “That’s not the kind of pie I was hoping for.”
She had not gotten the joke over lunchtime. But in the hours since, she had of course Googled what he could have meant. Oh boy, did she ever quickly erase her internet history.
“That’s not really a task I’m familiar with, but we’ll definitely have more time to do some hands-on training tomorrow.”
He brightened up. “Really? Tomorrow?”
“Yes, we have that off-site meeting with that one client. The one who invited us to his house?”
She waited. She felt as if he was a little confused. And then, there it was. “Oh, girl. Are you talking about skipping out on work and coming to my place?”
“No, sir, this client is a she and she requested we meet at her home. I can bring all the materials you need there. I’m sure I could also bring some extra pie from the contest. You know, to sweeten the deal.”
“Damn, woman. You’re naughtier than I imagined. Is Cora still watching you?”
Indeed. Cora was pretending to work but was definitely giving her the side eye. And she was even more definitely listening to this one-sided conversation.
“That’s an extreme affirmative.”
“See you tonight then. You can even bring the kids, it’ll be fun.”
Then she frowned. “Mr. Halpert, I have no choice but to bring the kids. Just so we’re clear about after-hours work activities. Anything you have me doing for work after 5 p.m. will always have to include the kids. Last night was an exception because I got caught up in the…fun of shopping.”
He paused, like he was processing what she’d said. That nighttime fun between them was going to be non-existent. The mischief was drained out of his voice when he replied, “I understand. See you tonight.”
Chapter 11
Devin
While everyone else was enjoying the night on the town square, Devin was thinking about how he did not have the appetite required to be a judge of a pie contest at the moment.
There were Christmas lights everywhere, friends laughing under the giant tree, the Rotary was selling handmade wreaths to help raise funds for the local Humane Society. The PTA was selling cider, hot chocolate and iced holiday cookies for the school. There was a line of kids waiting to have their pictures taken with Santa at the gazebo. There was a bluegrass band playing Christmas music over by the bridge, and kids were sledding on the hill and others were skating on the frozen Caleb Creek. It was like a scene from a Norman Rockwell painting, but all Devin could think about as he forced his way through tasting about eleventy hundred pies was that he had offended his girl.
You really do live your life like a privileged spoiled kid with no responsibilities. Your parents may be gone, but you had a good life and a safe place to grow up.
He looked up from where he was in the heated tent and there she was, with the three kids. They had greased-up cookie sheets instead of real sleds, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves just as much as the other kids. Devin would not have blamed Claire if she hadn’t shown up at all. But there she was. Always ready, always there to help. His Claire. His girl. He hoped it wasn’t too late.
He barely registered any of the flavors of the contest pies. He was really more of a summer fruit kind of guy. Give him strawberry, blueberry, Michigan cherry or Georgia peach pie any day of the week over these heavy cement-like things. And pumpkin? Forget it. May as well just toss it in the trash.
He finally decided to cast his vote for a peanut butter/Oreo/ice-cream pie that had a crust made with real lard—yes, he could tell the difference between butter, margarine and lard, thanks to Mama Jane’s baking. What set this pie apart for him was the topping, made from crushed potato chips. Basically the whole pie represented all the comfort foods. Whoever came up with that had to have known real heartbreak in his or her life.
Devin left before they declared the winner. He didn’t actually care. He just needed to be next to Claire. He found her and the kids down by the creek.
“Hi,” she said, giving him a smile. Smiling was good. She wasn’t angry.
“Hello, Claire.”
She laughed.
“What?”
She explained by imitating the formal way he’d said it. “‘Hello, Claire.’”
“So?”
She elbowed him. “Usually you greet me with a ‘hey, girl.’ What’s up with you?”
He looked at the kids and decided it was better not to say what he wanted to say in front of them.
“Hi, I’m your big sister’s boss, Devin. And who might you be?”
The three kids looked from Devin then to Claire. She nodded at them. “It’s OK, you can tell him your names. He’s a good guy.”
The middle child stuck out her hand first. “I’m May and did you know that meerkats can eat scorpions?”
Devin didn’t miss a beat. “I did know that. Did you know that giraffes have blue tongues?”
May nodded. “I did know that, but most grownups do not know animal facts.”
He gestured wildly. “Are you kidding? I love animal facts. National Geographic is my jam.”
May turned to Claire. “OK, I like your boss.”
The older girl crossed her arms in front of her. “I’m Layla, I’m 13 and I’m going to go early to high school, but I’m prepared to graduate even earlier and go to Colorado as soon as possible. Do you know why?”
“Uh, the mountains?”
“Yes, exactly, because of the mountains. Higher ground means the least impact of the rising waters due to global warming. It’s most likely to be the best location for restructuring society again once it breaks down. We can forget about Washington, D.C. Did you know our nation’s capital was built on a swamp? That’ll be under water. Good-bye National Archives. Sad, really.”
Devin blinked, not quite sure what to say. “Well, I like camping. Can I be on your post-apocalypse team?”
“Let me see your pocketknife.” She held out her hand, as if handing over a knife to a kid was the most natural thing in the world. But she was a force of nature, and Claire didn’t seem too concerned, so he pulled out his Swiss Army knife.
He started to ask, “How did you know I had a—” but Layla snatched it up and examined it. She rattled off the list of all the tools in the particular model he carried.
“Suitable for a casual camping trip or minor first-aid emergencies, I suppose, but you can’t dress a squirrel with that.”
Claire finally intervened. “God, Layla! OK, we’re done here. Devin, this is Stan, the one boy in our crew.”
Relieved, Devin turned his attention away from the Doomsday Girl and stuck out his hand. The little boy looked at it and shook it suspiciously. “Do you have money for hot cider and cookies? Claire said she doesn’t ha
ve any money. Grownups are always saying they don’t have money for things. Are you a real cowboy?”
“I used to be until about a couple weeks ago.”
“What happened?”
Devin shrugged. “I got promoted. But hey, I get to work with your sister now, which is a plus. She’s a very nice lady.”
“She is, but she doesn’t have money for cookies and cider. She never has money for fun stuff. Do you have money for cookies and cider?”
Of course he did. He didn’t go anywhere without “walking around” money. He looked at Claire. Her face was slightly tense but neutral. The kids were all looking at him expectantly. Well, what was he supposed to do?
“Hey, let’s all have some.” Before Claire could object, he handed some bills to the oldest. “You go get what you want and bring some cider for me and your big sister, OK?”
The two youngest cheered. The oldest took the cash and eyed him, uncertain. Then she looked at Claire. Then she looked back at Devin. Then, oddly, she nodded. “I approve this match.”
Devin looked at Claire’s beet-red face and laughed out loud after the children had started making their way to the cookie queue. “You talked to your little sister about me?”
Claire shook her head and looked at the snow. “I didn’t say a word to her. She’s got her eye out for a husband for me. She says, ‘Our best chance of surviving as a family is for you to get married.’ She’s very pragmatic, if not actually practical.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Pragmatic means it makes sense on paper. Practical means in real life. Something easily put into practice.”
Devin took a step closer. “Claire, the real life thing is kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. I know I act like a spoiled brat sometimes. I blow off work and I shouldn’t. I nearly squandered everything and my sister came to my rescue by giving me my first job. I get that. And I just wanted to say I never meant to offend you, and I apologize. And not because I want you to like me. But because I want to do better. You’re a good person and I want you to be my girl. Can we do that? Officially?”
The sadness on her face was not what he’d hoped for. “No, we can’t. I mean, yes, I want that too.”
“Great!”
“But Devin, here’s the other thing you don’t understand about real jobs. You’re my boss. You can’t date me. Other people will see it as me having an advantage over them because of our relationship, do you get that? They are totally on to us. I’m worried we’re going to get the company into trouble all over again.”
He smirked. “Well then, I guess I’ll just have to fire you so you can be my girl, and I’ll take care of your bills.”
Her lip quivered. “Don’t even start that. I can’t be obliged. I got us into this mess, I’m going to take care of us.”
This completely confused Devin. “Wait, what does that mean, you got them into this mess? I thought—”
But just then the three kids showed back up with cider and handfuls of cookies.
Devin enthusiastically ate cookies, drank cider and chatted with the kids. But Claire was oddly quiet for the rest of the evening.
Devin didn’t understand much about women, but he could tell when a person was hiding something. There was more to her story than what she was letting on.
Chapter 12
Devin
The next day at work, he had no appointments or conference calls. Things were starting to calm down from the Pete crisis. Devin had locked in most of the longtime clients and spoken with all of the investors. Everybody was on board to hang tight during the transition, with WX Genetics promising there would be no interruption in service or in loan payments. He just had one more big meeting before the holidays, tomorrow in Kansas.
On one hand, this was a very good thing. Wynn was elated with the work he had done so far. Bad news for Devin, who was itching to get back on a horse. He would rather be bleeding through his work gloves while fixing a barbed wire fence at 10 below zero on a sheet of ice-covered snow than sitting in a warm office staring at the phone and the ceiling. But then…Claire. If he could get himself demoted back to the ranch, maybe Claire wouldn’t be so worried about their office romance. But getting demoted would mean some serious shit going down for the company, which would hurt everyone.
If that were not bad enough, he now had two work-related Christmas parties to attend this year. A small one planned by the office staff for just their building.
Then, the regional shindig on the 22nd, planned by Wynn. Every year, she forced all the workers on the ranch, in the lab, the office, and the warehouse to come together for a big catered dinner and some kind of entertainment. Every year it was torture. He couldn’t stand wearing a tie and sitting still for more than five minutes while some magician, hypnotist, or motivational speaker said some words. One year there was a talent show and Devin refused to even go to that. Another year it was interpretive dance. He sat and cringed the entire time and eventually had to walk out due to sheer discomfort when one of the dancers’ scarves nearly caught fire on a Christmas candle centerpiece while attempting some audience participation. He hated audience participation more than nails on a blackboard.
He didn’t know if all corporate get-togethers were so weird, but he had a feeling that Wynn needed a party intervention. Maybe she should spend more time with their cool sister, Maggie. Her and Jackson’s farm was quickly becoming the go-to place for weddings, parties, everything.
He stared out his office door and could see Claire’s back to him. If she were going to be at the party with him, it might make it a bit more fun. He wondered what she would wear. Hell, she could wear pajamas and she would look fabulous. And then he thought about how much he would like to see her in pajamas. Lying next to him, her eyes sleepy, hair mussed from the pillows. He daydreamed about reaching over to her and helping her remove her pajama pants.
He didn’t know how many times his office phone had been ringing—he had the volume turned down a bit to keep it from jangling his nerves—but eventually it snapped him out of this daydream.
“Yeah.”
“Really professional, little bro.” It was Wynn. Of course. There was a surefire way to kill his office boner. He’d have to thank her later.
“What?”
She sighed her exasperation with his interpersonal skills and launched in. “I’ve booked a comedian this year for your regional party and I want to make sure you’ll be there. The whole time.”
“A comedian? Aw shit, Wynn. Come on. Is it a dirty one, at least?”
“Are you paying for it? No? Then you can keep your opinions to yourself.”
“Oh sister, trust me. Everyone in that room is going to be paying for it one way or another. We’re all going to be setting our hair on fire with your weird little candle centerpieces.”
“They’re called hurricane lamps and it’s not weird, it’s very festive with the poinsettias and the red roses and the berries and—wait a minute, why am I even defending centerpieces to the man who used to fart on me in middle school? Just making sure you’ll be there. And…you can take a date, if you want.”
“Can I bring my assistant?” He stared at the back of Claire’s neck as he said it. She turned her head slightly to hear better.
“I guess, but don’t you want to take a real date?” Wynn asked.
“Claire is my date. We’re dating. There, I said it.”
Claire turned around, eyes huge. Terrified. She mouthed, “What are you doing?”
Wynn said the exact same thing at almost the exact same moment as Claire did. It was spooky.
“I’m being upfront about our relationship. Isn’t that the professional thing to do?”
He could practically feel his sister squeezing the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “No. The professional thing is for you to break it off. Today.”
He ended the conversation with his sister without agreeing to do anything of the sort. She had simply given the order and said something about pretending s
he hadn’t heard any of what he had said. He was supposed to break it off with Claire.
Nothing made Devin Halpert act faster in the wrong direction than a direct order.
Break up with Claire? Fuck. That.
Chapter 13
Claire
She was just about ready to button up her coat and leave for lunch when she saw that Devin was calling her on her desk phone. She picked up and braced herself for the fallout from his phone call with Wynn.
“You don’t have to say it. I know what you have to do,” she said.
He spoke low and slow into her ear so only she could hear.
“Nobody tells me what to do. Not you, and not my sister. Time for lunch, baby. I’ll meet you at your house. What’s your address?”
She gave it to him and hung up the phone. Her hands shook in anxiety and excitement as she buttoned up her coat. She scanned the room of cubicles, but the rest of the crew was off having a meeting in the conference room about the office staff’s little cookie exchange holiday party.
Claire scooted out quickly. She drove like a madwoman back to her empty house, thanking God that the kids had not started their holiday break just yet.
She looked over everything. All was in order. She had anticipated this might happen this morning and had made sure all the beds were made, clothes picked up and dishes done. She went into her room and took off her shoes. Should she leave on her work clothes? Should she take her hair down? Nobody had prepared her for this moment.
Finally she decided to take off her blazer, tights and underwear, but leave on her skirt, bra and her blouse. Parking herself on the couch, she tried out several casual poses, but it felt forced and silly.
None of it mattered, though, as the next moment Devin had burst through her kitchen door. He found her in the living room and was on top of her before he could acknowledge how natural and causal she looked lounging on the couch.
Chapter 14