Under The Mistletoe

by Cross, Cassie

  “If you can’t, it’s—”

  “I can. I just need…” she paused for a moment as she closed her eyes, calculating. “I need a day and a half uninterrupted. Can you give me that?”

  “Absolutely,” he agreed.

  Stella narrowed her eyes. “That means no asking me to go out and buy your dad a silk tie, no sending me off to find a special painting that I’ll have to hop on ten flights to pick up.”

  Logan rolled his eyes. Even at his worst, he’d never been that bad.

  “I’m serious. No being your usual pain-in-the-ass self while I go along with it and we play our little games. A day and a half.”

  He eagerly jumped on the offer. He trusted Stella with his business. He trusted her with his life. “A day and a half,” he agreed.

  She immediately relaxed, and offered him a happy smile. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  Chapter Three

  At quarter to nine that night, Stella closed the spreadsheet she was working on and pulled up her internet browser. Needing a break from the endless stream of numbers she was looking at, she decided to do some research for her trip with her sisters. She needed to find a place in Cologne where they could all have a nice Christmas dinner.

  The Reyes women didn’t know how—or care to learn how—to cook for themselves. They were all busy, professional women with other things to do, and finding a place where they could get something to eat on a holiday was becoming a bit of an issue. Stella wrote down the names of a couple of restaurants she thought might be open on the day, and typed out an email to her to sisters to get some opinions on their options.

  After she hit send, her stomach growled so loudly she was certain that Logan could’ve heard it. He was still in his office, the delicious aroma of the Italian he’d just had delivered wafting out to Stella, teasing her.

  She was tempted to go in there and steal a bite of the ziti he always ordered, such was her level of desperation. But she only had a couple more things to finish up, then she could go home and order all the Italian she wanted.

  If only the smell of the delicious food from the other room wasn’t driving her crazy.

  She fished a lone spork out of the depths of her bottom drawer and grasped it in her hand, ready to walk into Logan’s office and beg for a meatball—for anything—when he walked out with two containers in one hand, a bottle in the other. He placed the top container down in front of Stella and opened it.

  Inside was her favorite: chicken parm. He’d even gotten the lemon-flavored tea she liked so much, the charming, observant bastard.

  As much as he drove her crazy, he was incredibly attentive and thoughtful, and thoughtful things like this made it impossible for her to decide to move on with her life, to drag her heart kicking and screaming away from this man.

  “Thank you,” she said, before spearing a piece of chicken with her spork.

  Logan winked at her, sending goosebumps across her skin as he sat down in the chair on the other side of her desk, and started eating. His tie was loosened, his jacket off and his shirtsleeves rolled up just below his elbows. She liked that he felt comfortable relaxing around her once everyone else had gone home.

  “Working on something for one of our German subsidiaries?” he asked slyly, nodding at her laptop.

  Stella shrugged. “Seeing as it’s quarter to nine and my day is technically supposed to be over at five, I took a break to do some personal business.”

  He lifted a piece of cheese-covered garlic bread to his mouth and took a big bite. It was really disheartening that he could eat like he did and still look like he did, chiseled abs and all.

  Not that Stella had ever seen those abs herself, of course. But she had seen some paparazzi photos of him on a beach vacation a few years ago, back when he was dating a C-list actress who loved her publicity.

  She thought about those pics more often than she probably should.

  “What kind of personal business are you doing?” he asked, sounding somewhat hesitant about the answer as he pointedly looked at his food, not at her.

  Stella sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I’m looking for somewhere my sisters and I can have Christmas dinner in Cologne. Finding a restaurant that’s open is proving to be more difficult than I thought it would be. We’re going to wind up having macaroni and cheese, if we can even find that.”

  “You don’t cook?”

  “I spend most of my eating hours here. Why would I bother cooking of all things when I’m finally free of this place for the day?”

  Logan smiled. “Are you staying in a hotel?”

  “An Airbnb,” she replied suspiciously. Why did that matter?

  Logan rolled a meatball to the corner of his takeout container. “I could set something up for you.”

  Stella was slow on the uptake, something she blamed on the fact that the food hadn’t quite made it through her system, and that she’d been in the office for going on 12 hours. Set something up…”Like a dinner?”

  “Like a personal chef.”

  “You know a personal chef in Germany?” The Anderson family had connections, but she didn’t know that Logan could commit to a personal chef in a foreign country at the drop of a hat.

  Her disbelief played into two things that she knew Logan loved: someone doubting his ability to do something, and surprising people with said ability to do that thing.

  He leaned closer and rested his elbows on the table, offering her a Logan Anderson-patented panty-dropping smile. “You’d be surprised at all the things I know, Miss Reyes.”

  The cocky way he said those words sent a shiver down her spine.

  “A personal chef is a great idea, but it’s not in the budget.”

  “It’s in my budget.”

  Stella dropped her spork and leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re just going to get me and my sisters a personal chef?”

  “Consider it payback for being such a pain in the ass all year. It’s the least I could do.”

  Stella narrowed her eyes. “This better not be a trick.”

  He looked truly hurt at the suggestion. “You think I would do that to you? Ruin your Christmas?”

  Truthfully? No, she didn’t think that. As much as he liked to tease her, she got the feeling that disappointing her was the very last thing he’d want to do. Logan was a flirt, and, yes—he could be difficult sometimes—but she’d seen the man he truly was underneath it all. The kind, thoughtful one who made sure she ate when she stayed late, the one who wanted to lead his family’s business into the future, the one who was so nervous about severing ties his father had kept up for decades that he was dragging her upstate to a party to make sure he didn’t forget even the smallest detail about any of the people who attended it.

  That’s the kind of guy who would hire a personal chef to make her holiday a special one. Sometimes she didn’t know what to do with that guy, so she resorted back to teasing him.

  “If I accept, you better follow through or you’re going to have three very angry women on your hands.”

  He laughed. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  Well, that was a reminder about his life that sent Stella careening back into reality.

  “Thank you for taking on the extra work,” he said earnestly as he went about picking at his food. “I know it’s a lot, but I trust you more than I trust anyone else. You know my dad wasn’t so sure about retiring, about handing everything over to Drake and me. I don’t want to disappoint him, but I also don’t want him being right about me and the risk I took moving us more into the tech side of things.”

  Something took hold of Stella, made her reach across her desk and put her hand on top of Logan’s. The office was so quiet, she heard his intake of breath, the stillness between them as they touched.

  “I know you want to prove to your Dad that he made the right choice, and show him you know what you’re doing. I’ll do whatever I can to help you with that.”

  Logan’s eyes softened, warmin
g his whole face. He watched her intently, searched her face as it seemed like he wanted to say something more. Then he took a deep breath, flipped his hand over to give Stella’s a squeeze.

  “Thank you,” he said sincerely, following it up with a grateful, intimate smile that made Stella’s heart flutter its way all the way up into her throat.

  She thought back to her conversation with Liz earlier that morning.

  Maybe moments like this meant more to her than they did to him. Maybe he was flirting with her to keep her hanging on.

  Still…it felt real.

  And it was working.

  Chapter Four

  Logan’s driver pulled the car in front of Stella’s apartment a little after 2PM on Thursday afternoon. Logan had only been here once before, when he picked her up on their way to Teterboro to catch a private plane down to Miami for a work function a few months ago. It was a nice neighborhood, full of brownstones and right down the street from a park, as tucked away from the hustle and bustle as an apartment in New York could be.

  This was completely different from the building he lived in near Central Park. It was cold and stuffy, with a stiff doorman who robotically greeted every tenant by name. There was a little more character here, and Logan found himself wanting to go and knock on the door, to get buzzed up and take the elevator to Stella’s third floor apartment, to see what it looked like. He’d seen her purchase candles from boutiques down the street from the office, he wanted to find out if her home smelled like them, wanted to know if her place was as warm and welcoming as she was.

  Stella was always the punctual one between the two of them, and when the car came to a stop at the curb, she walked out of the building pulling her rolling suitcase behind her, a garment bag draped over her arm.

  The driver started to get out, but Logan stopped him, wanting to meet her instead.

  Stella grinned when she saw him. “Hey, imagine that. You’re on time for once.”

  “Only because someone brought me here,” he teased, reaching for the handle of her suitcase and taking her garment bag. He placed it over the one that held his suit for the party, and squeezed her suitcase next to his. There was something about the gesture that made Logan want it to be real, made him imagine a scenario where they were running off for a weekend together that had nothing to do with work. A weekend where she wasn’t going to be locked in a room most of the time, helping him not blow his first big release as head of his company.

  Logan helped her into the back of the limo, and made his way around to the other side of the car. He was looking forward to taking her to his home upstate. He’d inherited it from his grandmother, and liked to escape there whenever he needed a break from the city. The thought of having her in his home, of letting her see that part of him, made Logan feel vulnerable and excited all at once.

  He’d never brought a woman he was interested in there, although this was definitely not that kind of weekend. He had to keep reminding himself that, had to remember that he’d promised her a day and a half free from interruptions. Maybe if she got a head start in the car, that might free up some time for…

  No. Not that kind of weekend.

  Once Logan was settled into his seat, the driver rolled up the partition and they began their trip.

  Stella immediately pulled out her laptop and got to work while Logan pushed down the niggling disappointment that was creeping up inside of him. She was here to work, and he was going to let her do just that.

  Logan pulled out his phone and began responding to emails, then did a little online shopping to get a few gifts he needed for his family. Before he knew it, a couple of hours had passed and their trip was almost halfway over. He looked out the window, watching the scenery as they passed by. He loved upstate, loved the landscape, the calming influence it had on him. It was the one trip where he preferred the drive, preferred sitting back and watching the world go by.

  He looked over at Stella, finding her resting her head against the seat, rubbing her temples. He reached forward and pulled a bottle of water out of the cooler by the door, opened it, and handed it to her. She took it with a soft thanks, and he tried not to stare as her red lips wrapped around the mouth of the bottle. Tried not to imagine those lips wrapped around him…what they’d feel like, what they’d taste like.

  “Do you have everything set up for your trip?” he asked casually, trying to distract himself from thinking about her, and trying to distract her from thinking about work for a little while.

  Stella twisted the cap back on the bottle. “Pretty much. My sisters and I are leaving on Tuesday. I’ve got the accommodations booked, and my sister Sofia took care of all of our train reservations. Maria’s just along for the ride, because she’s never been much of a planner. All we need now are plans for Christmas dinner,” she said, giving him a pointed look.

  “Already arranged,” he assured her. “You have this nice annual trip; the last thing I want to do is ruin that by not following through with a promise.”

  “You didn’t promise anything.”

  “I told you I would do it,” he explained. “That’s a promise to me.”

  She smiled at him, the sunlight streaming in through the window making her eyes sparkle.

  “This tradition you and your sisters have…it’s nice.”

  Stella let out a light sigh. “I don’t know how much longer it’s gonna last. Once everyone gets married off and starts having families, getting away for two weeks at Christmas is pretty much a no-go.”

  “You could always make it a family thing,” Logan added helpfully.

  “Yeah, I suppose so.” She picked at the hem of her sweater for a few seconds. “I like it just the three of us. We tell stories about Mom and Dad, because the older we get and the further away we are from them…we kind of start forgetting a little. So it’s nice to reminisce, to keep up a family tradition even though we don’t have them anymore.”

  “They would’ve been really proud of you three.” Logan obviously never knew Mr. and Mrs. Reyes, but he can’t imagine parents not being proud of children like theirs.

  “A doctor, a lawyer, and a personal assistant.” The words came out light and teasing, even though Logan heard the sarcastic undercurrent there. “Real proud.”

  It wasn’t the first time Logan felt guilty, like he was holding her back from something great. “I should’ve put you on the app project,” he said ruefully. “I’m really regretting that decision now.”

  Stella let out a bitter laugh. “If you did that, there would only be more rumors about me and you.” Her eyes widened, like she hadn’t meant to be that honest, and only just realized what she’d said.

  “I know,” he admitted. “I never was sure what to do about that. Address it and—”

  “And people will think you’re hiding something.”

  “Yeah.”

  He realized too late that he hadn’t ever helped when it came to that perception people had of the two of them, no matter how hard he tried to not look at her the way he always seemed to.

  “Just ignore it,” she said. “I think I’m going to…” Stella pursed her lips together, cutting off her sentence.

  “You think you’re going to what?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s not important.”

  The words brought with them a fluttering in Logan’s stomach that made him think whatever she was going to say was definitely important. He didn’t want to drop it and was thinking of a way he could push the subject that would actually make her give him an answer, when:

  “We had this tradition on Christmas Eve,” Stella began, the words coming quickly, like she was desperate to change the subject before Logan could ask more questions. “My mom would give my sisters and I one present to open as we all sat around and drank hot chocolate. Mom and Dad’s was always spiked with peppermint schnapps. My dad would sneak us all a sip when my mom wasn’t looking, and she pretended not to notice. He’d play this old copy of Bing Crosby’s Christmas album on this v
intage record player that belonged to his father.”

  Logan smiled. “Those are nice memories.”

  “Sofia has it now,” she explained with a warm smile. “She was the oldest, so she got to pick what she wanted first, and it’s not the kind of thing you can carry around on vacation with you, so it’s been a while since I’ve heard it. But that’s what makes me think of them, what makes me happy this time of year.”

  Her eyes were a little glassy, and even her warm, gorgeous smile wasn’t fully able to hide her pain.

  Logan was trying to think of something to say that might be able to comfort her—and absolutely failing—when she turned to him.

  “What about you? Does the Anderson family have any Christmas traditions?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. Not really anything like people might think, and that was a little difficult to admit to. But he trusted Stella, and he knew he could open up about the less-than-perfect parts of his life, too.

  “Impersonal Christmas parties for clients and friends, followed by Christmas morning where we had breakfast that the cook made because my parents were still hungover from the party they threw the night before. And grand gifts,” he admitted, picking at his thumbnail so he didn’t have to look Stella in the eyes. “So, so grand.” He bitterly recalled the desire for a little bit of normalcy in his life back then.

  “How grand is grand?”

  “Vacations, cars. Talking about it makes me sound like a real asshole, but Drake and I would always have piles of the finest things, when what I wanted most was Operation.”

  Stella let out a laugh she quickly tried to disguise as a cough. “You mean…the game?”

  “Yeah,” Logan said with an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, the game. One of our maids would bring her kids to work with her sometimes and let them hang out in our playhouse in the backyard while she worked. I’d go out there and play with them. They’d always have cards, board games…whatever. My mom found out one day and dragged me out of there. I think she refused to get it for me simply because she knew the maid’s kids had it, and if it was good enough for them, it wasn’t good enough for me.”