“Yes, the founder and CEO of this company will be attending the festivities along with most of the employees from all of the offices. Including his beloved General Counsel.”
Both hands rest on her hips now, and she sticks her chest out, defiant and hot. Hot and defiant and endlessly problematic. But really hot.
“That is very disappointing. Will you be there? If I have to go, then you do too.”
“Why yes. I and the rest of the executive assistants as well as the entire support staff will be there—thanks for asking!”
“Who’s going to answer the phones? Or are we all hoping to drop off the list of top ten New York real estate firms next year?”
“They’re bringing in temps to cover the phones that day.”
“Thought of everything, huh?”
“Yeah, and I hear they got the deluxe karaoke machine, so…” She smirks at me. That smirk does things to me. That smirk is highly problematic.
“Tell one of the interns to get my car washed.”
“Right away, sir.” She bats her eyelashes.
“But not the one who did it the last time—he’s a smoker. And not the girl who did it the time before that—my car was infused with her perfume for a week, and I did not like it.”
“I’ll be sure to request the one who always gets onion rings at White Castle on his way to the car wash.”
I raise the coffee mug to sniff it. “What is this?”
“A steaming hot cup of the tears of your former assistants.”
“That’s funny, because it smells like pumpkin spice.”
“That’s hilarious, because it’s a pumpkin spice latte.”
“That’s interesting because I only drink black coffee and espresso. You know that.”
“I thought maybe the pumpkin spice would put you in the holiday spirit.”
“Fuck holiday spirit. Fuck pumpkin spice.”
She crosses her arms in front of her ample, problematic chest. “Maybe you should. It would probably put you in a better mood…”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Are you trying to get yourself fired, Cooper?”
“Yes, but I’m not expecting a Christmas miracle.”
I hand her back the coffee cup. “Please accept this pumpkin spice latte in lieu of said miracle.”
“Blech, no thank you. I hate flavored coffee. Unless it’s, y’know, grown-up coffee.”
Every now and then I detect the slightest hint of Staten Island in the way she talks, and it makes whatever she’s saying sound dirty. And I like it.
She takes a sip of the latte, grimacing. “Blech. Horrible.”
It’s fucking adorable when she wrinkles her nose like that. “Why’d you take a sip if you hate flavored coffee?”
“I thought maybe I’d like this one.”
“Serves you right for being an optimist. I need the contracts for the Branson deal in front of me.”
“Emailed them to you five minutes ago. Would you like me to purchase a Secret Santa gift on your behalf? I’m leaving early this afternoon to take my niece shopping—I can pick something up for you.”
I pull up the email on my computer. She added a winking face emoji to the subject line. “Not necessary.”
“You have to participate, or it isn’t fair to whichever unfortunate soul whose name you drew.”
“I am participating. For your information, I happen to be a world-class gift giver. I will be purchasing it myself.”
I scan the documents and make a couple of notes, but it seems she’s still standing there, staring down at me.
“Anything else?”
“Once again, I would like to request the 25th off so I can spend it with my family.”
I get an email notification on my personal phone and glance down at it while she’s telling me that none of the other executives or their assistants are working from the 23rd until the 28th.
“Once again, I must remind you that you will be earning premium holiday pay.”
The email is from my brother Brady. I delete it without reading it. This means my sister called him right after she called me. That means a call from my mother is imminent. That means I’m going to have to lie to my ma. That means instead of feeling sorry for myself, I’ll hate myself.
“I don’t care about making overtime on Christmas,” she continues. “I want to see my sister’s baby and hang out with my family.”
I vigorously scrub my face with the palms of my hands, grunting.
“You can see them for dinner. It’s not my fault we’re so busy, and it’s definitely not my fault Christmas is on a weekday.”
“It’s on a Friday.”
“Friday is a weekday, Cooper. Would you like to try to convince me otherwise, or would you like to let me finish reading through this contract before Drucker calls?”
She mumbles something about my moods and me being the devil while turning on her four-inch heels and giving me a fantastic view of her perfect round ass in that tight black skirt. I watch that ass sway all the way out of my office. I keep watching her through the glass wall between us as she takes a seat at her desk, blowing air out of her big puffy lips and cursing me under her breath.
I wish she were whispering those angry filthy curses into my ear, but my day has still gotten so much better already.
Three
Maddie
FROSTY, YOU BLOW, MAN
In the grand scheme of things, being subjected to the moods and demands of a horrifically gorgeous man in a beautiful suit isn’t the worst thing anyone ever had to deal with. But Declan Cannavale can bite me. He can kiss my butt and he can blow me and he can go take a long walk off a short, icy pier. I might have to strip his beautiful suit off and lick him from head to toe first before marching him out into the freezing-cold December air. But only because I’d want him to suffer more.
Not because I’m dying to lick all six-foot-two-inches of his stupidly amazing body from head to toe.
Because I’m not.
It’s not like I can’t handle working for him. I mean, I’d rather handle him firmly around his neck. But I know how to deal with these guys who think they can get away with anything just because they’re lickable.
Still, if I could go back to working for Artie, I would.
In a heartbeat.
I had worked for Artie ever since I graduated from college. He’s old and sweet and never gave me a single moment of grief. I would have worked for him forever. But no matter how much I beg and plead with him, he refuses to come out of retirement just so I can quit this ridiculous well-paid job.
I remember when Declan’s office would call Artie, back when Declan worked in Big Law. I’d listen in. Declan even dialed the phone himself every now and then and we’d chat. He was fine back then. Apparently, when he’d heard that Artie was going to retire, he told him he wanted to hire me ASAP.
Artie vouched for him. Said he was “a class act with a heart of gold.” Told me he really hoped I’d take this job instead of the one for the partner at the law firm because I’d have better work-life balance. You know what I got? A grumpy boss with a heart of coal. Fifty-five-hour work weeks. Texts and emails every night and all weekend. So many eye-roll–inducing one-liners that I’m afraid my eyeballs might get stuck in the back of my head one of these days. A chronically clenched jaw and a nonstop angry lady boner. My teeth are being ground to a fine dust, and the head of my Hitachi Magic Wand now has a dent in it.
“Aunt Maddie, why are you stabbing at your keyboard like that?”
“What? Oh…” My niece has been sitting beside me so quietly, I completely forgot she was there.
Piper. She’s thirteen and adorable. My sister has been so busy with the new baby, and Piper’s been all bummed out because she’s the only girl in eighth grade who doesn’t have boobs yet. So I offered to take her Christmas shopping, but for some reason she couldn’t wait until the weekend.
She closes the textbook she’s been reading, carefully using her highlighter pen as a bookmark, a
nd asks, “When can we go shopping?”
“I just have to wait until my boss gets back from his meeting in a minute, and then we’re outta here. That okay?”
“Okay.” She nudges her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she opens her book again. “Should I hide or something? I don’t want him to be mean to me.”
“He won’t be mean to you, honey… Probably… I hope.” I will knee him in the balls if he’s mean to my niece.
“Well hello there,” says an all too familiar voice in a very unfamiliar tone. “Are you training a new assistant for me, Cooper? Because I also happen to be a highlighter person. This could work out very well.”
I look away from my monitor and find Declan smiling at Piper. Smiling with his supernatural amber eyes. Like an actual human. I can see his teeth, and there is a heretofore unseen dimple in his left cheek.
I don’t understand what’s happening.
“Cooper?” He stares down at me quizzically. “You okay?”
“Are you okay? What’s happening to your face?”
“It’s smiling, Coop.” He knows I hate it when he calls me “Coop.” He holds his laptop to his chest and gives Piper a cool little wave. “Hi, I’m Declan,” he says to her. “And you are?”
“Piper. Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Um. This is my niece. Piper, this is my boss, Mr. Cannavale. How was your meeting?”
“It was not terrible. Can you get Victor on the phone for me? And ask what’s-his-name’s assistant for the by-laws for the—”
“She just emailed them to you. I’ll get Victor, and then Holly will be covering my desk for the rest of the day so I can take my adorable niece shopping.”
“Oh great. Sounds fun.” He winks at Piper and then flashes me with the kind of smile that makes me check his hands to make sure there aren’t any knives in them. Because he looks all kinds of stabby. “Can I talk to you in my office for a second?”
Eye roll.
“I’ll be right back, Piper. Why don’t you start packing up your bag so we can go.”
I follow Declan into his office and shut the door behind myself.
He drops his laptop onto the leather sofa and turns back to face me with a wide stance, his arms crossed at his chest. “You’re going shopping? At five o’clock? Today?”
“I told you this morning and yesterday evening and two days ago. As I just said, Holly the floater will be covering for me.”
“How long were you planning on shopping for?”
“She’s Christmas shopping for her friends and parents. It’ll take a couple of hours, at least.”
“But you’re coming back afterwards, right?”
“To the office?”
“Yes, Cooper. To the office. Where you work. For me.”
That’s it. My arms are crossed in front of my chest now too. “You’re asking me if I’m coming back to the office after seven tonight?”
He shrugs. “I’ll still be here.”
“And Holly will stay until you leave.”
“Who?”
“Holly. The floater.”
“What’s a floater?”
“Someone whose job it is to cover an assistant’s desk when said assistant is unable to cover it herself.”
“For instance, when said assistant is shopping with a family member in the middle of a workday?”
“Five pm is hardly the middle of the workday, and you know what—I have made the proper arrangements for you. My niece rode the subway on her own from the Upper West Side, and now I am going to get Victor on the phone for you and then I am going to take my niece Christmas shopping.” I turn on my heels for like the ninth time today and walk away from him before he tells me to come back after dinner.
I can feel him glaring at my back. Or possibly slightly lower than my back. I leave the door open, but he doesn’t say anything else. Except when he calls out to Piper to tell her to have fun shopping. Which is so annoying.
Piper is just a silent pulsating heart-eyes emoji face all the way until we exit the building onto Madison Avenue, when she finally exclaims, “Sheeeww. Your boss’s butt is perfect!”
“Piper! Shhh!” It’s so cold, I can see our breath.
“It is! Have you looked at it?”
“No. He’s my boss. Come on, Fifth Avenue is this way.”
“You should check it out. It’s perfect.”
“I doubt it. Should we go to H&M first?”
“You’re right. It’s too flat.”
“It’s not flat!”
“Aha! You have looked at it!”
“Only when it was unavoidable. Stop talking about my boss’s butt.”
“But it’s the best one I’ve ever seen IRL.”
“Don’t say IRL. Say in real life when you’re not texting.”
“WTF are you so grumpy and bossy RN?”
“Piper, I’m not the grumpy, bossy one. Declan is. Do you want to grab something to eat first or after we shop a little?” Now I’m just mad at him for being nice to my niece. And for having such a hot butt. What a dick move.
“He’s a hottie with a body. He must do squats all day long.”
“Oh my God—why don’t you watch a Shawn Mendes video on your phone or something to wipe my boss from your memory.”
“Shawn Mendes seems so young to me now. I want to look at grown-man abs. Have you seen Declan with his shirt off? I bet he has abs.”
“Everyone has abs.”
“I want to see Declan’s abs.”
“Stop calling him Declan.”
“But he told me to.”
“We don’t all have to do what he tells us to do. At least I’m paid to do it. And even then, I don’t do everything he tells me to do—because he’s not right about everything.”
“You seem to care an awful lot about him.”
“No I don’t.”
“I would do literally anything he told me to do. I would lick him like a candy cane.”
“Piper.”
“Just sayin’.”
“You have no idea what you’re sayin’. Seriously, you have to stop saying things like that. Have you ever kissed a boy?”
“Yes. In spin the bottle at Shoshana’s b-day party last month. I bumped noses with Drake G, so our lips didn’t really touch, but I still count it as kissing.”
“Piper, you shouldn’t talk about licking boys, and you really shouldn’t talk about licking men.”
“Okay. I definitely think you should lick him, though.”
“You definitely shouldn’t talk about me licking my boss—I would never.” I might think about it, but I would never. In real life, I’d rather lick eggnog off the bottom of my boots than lick Declan Cannavale. And I hate eggnog.
Speak of licking the devil, and the work phone in your pocket vibrates…
DECLAN: COOPER. COME BACK.
“Oh for shit’s sake.”
“Is it Declan?”
“Yes. I haven’t even been gone for two minutes, and already he’s texting me.”
“Lucky. No boys ever text me.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Chapter Four
DECLAN: What is the name of that terrible woman at your desk?
MADDIE: That’s Holly. The floater. Be nice to her!!!
DECLAN: She’s always smiling at me. It’s creepy.
MADDIE: She’s a really nice person who is good at her job.
DECLAN: When are you coming back?
MADDIE: I literally just left.
DECLAN: That is not an answer.
MADDIE: I thought I made it clear that I’m not coming back to the office tonight.
DECLAN: Unacceptable.
MADDIE: What exactly do you need me to do tonight that can’t be done by Holly?
DECLAN: I need you to sit at that desk and not smile at me like a creep.
MADDIE: Trust me, that is exactly what I’ll be doing tomorrow and for the rest of my unbearable tenure as your assistant. Anything else?
MADDIE: Anything? Else? Speak now or forever hold your peace.
MADDIE: For tonight, anyway. Like I said, I’m not expecting any Christmas miracles.
DECLAN: Everything else, Cooper. Everything else. Good night.
DECLAN: Cooper? You there? One more question.
MADDIE: Always here for you, Declan!
DECLAN: Well now, that’s more like it.
MADDIE: You should totally come meet us for dinner at Panera after we go to Best Buy LOL
DECLAN: Are you drunk right now?
MADDIE: Would you like me to be?
DECLAN: Kind of. What’s the name of the new guy at the mayor’s office? The younger one with the beard? I don’t know how to ask the floater to get him on the phone for me.
MADDIE: Um. Zac?
DECLAN: He looks nothing like Zac Efron.
MADDIE: Jake?
DECLAN: Hilarious. Are you going to list all of the actors with beards? Because I actually have to call him now-ish.
MADDIE: Declan. That was my niece. I was in the dressing room. His name is Tom Linklater.
DECLAN: She’s hired.
MADDIE: OMG I will totally work for you!!! LOL. You don’t even have to pay me lolol.
MADDIE: Sorry, I had to pay for something and she grabbed my phone. Let’s not add child labor law violations to the list of terrible things you’re capable of, Mr. Cannavale. I’m putting my phone away now. Have a good night.
DECLAN: There are exactly zero things on that list, FYI.
DECLAN: You don’t get to have the last word, Cooper.
DECLAN: Cooper.
DECLAN: Fine, I have to call Tom Linklater anyway. Have a very merry dinner at Panera.
Five
Declan
MAMA’S BOY TO THE WORLD
Fuck the holidays. Fuck family dinners. And fuck my life.
My mother’s voice mail has been burning a hole through my phone and my cold dead heart since six o’clock. It is now ten-thirty here and in Ohio. She’ll still be up. If I wait until after midnight to call and leave a message, she’ll know I was trying to avoid her. If I send her a text saying that I’ll call her in the morning, she’ll call me back immediately. If I don’t answer, she will not stop calling. She. Will. Never. Stop. If I don’t respond at all, I’m a dick. I literally have a degree in knowing whether or not I’m going to win an argument or not, and I am one hundred percent going down in flames with this one.
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