marches toward the door, her thigh-high black-heeled boots clicking against the tiles.
“Oh, Lex, have a good day.” She pauses and whips out a bottle of perfume, spraying it on her slender neck. “And make me look good. Niko’s watching.”
Kimberlee turns on her heel and flounces out the door, leaving a trail of expensive perfume in her wake.
And my stomach in knots.
Kimberlee is after Niko.
Jealousy consumes me as I stare at her image on the screen. Not that Niko would want her, of course.
Right?
I mean, he didn’t even bat an eye at Kenley when he met her.
But Kenley wasn’t available.
Kimberlee is.
I swallow hard and stare at her perfect image, her perfume swirling in the air around me, and I feel sick.
With uneasiness in my chest, I begin to edit the woman who has made it clear she’s after the only man I’ve ever wanted.
The game is on, apparently.
I’m not the only one who wants Niko.
And I pray that Kimberlee isn’t going to screw everything up between us.
Chapter 13
The One Online Dating Service Profile Question: You’re in the early stages of a relationship. A holiday is approaching. Do you ask him/her to spend the holiday with you? Is it too much? Too scary? Too bold?
My write-in answer: Dare I even ask Niko to Thanksgiving dinner? Would it freak him out? Especially because we’re just coworkers? How do I ask him without making it sound like a date, but more than friends? I’ve never felt more clueless in my life . . .
“Sweetheart, are you sure can’t take off work to come to Aspen?” Mom asks as she folds some sweaters to put into her suitcase. “It doesn’t feel right to have Thanksgiving there without you.”
I watch as she lines up her cashmere sweaters and gently places them in her black Prada suitcase. It’s Monday night, and I came over to have dinner with Mom and Dad after a hellacious day editing Kimberlee’s God-awful footage and trying not to obsess over her meeting with Niko today.
Which is proving to be statistically impossible to do, but at least talking to my mom is forcing me to at least hit the pause button on that train of thought.
So here I am, sitting in my mom’s room as she gets ready to leave for our cabin in Aspen. She always goes a week early to get everything lined up for all the guests coming in, but this year, for the first time, I won’t be one of them.
“Mom,” I say, tracing my fingers over the silver tone-on-tone stripes in her duvet, “I was asked to edit a hockey game the night before Thanksgiving and the night after. This is when staff people are off, and this is my chance to do edit highlights for the game intermissions. I really want to do it.”
“But it’s the holidays.” Mom pauses and locks her hazel eyes on mine. “I can’t imagine a holiday without you. Maybe we should stay here instead.”
“No,” I say firmly. “You know Dad needs to ski to decompress. He loves Colorado. And the rest of the family will be there, too.”
Mom nods. She knows I’m right. Dad is the CFO of an oil company in Dallas and has a very high-pressured job. He needs to be in Aspen to step away from work, if only for a week.
“Well, maybe we can fly you in and back on Thanksgiving Day,” Mom says hopefully.
I shake my head. “No, I can’t take the chance of being stuck. I have to show I can step in when needed. I’m going to prove to them I’m reliable and that I can cut a live show edit in addition to a magazine.”
“But you won’t be with family,” Mom says.
“Mom,” I say firmly, “I’m going to have Thanksgiving at CiCi’s. I’ll be with Amanda and Kenley. It’ll be fine. I won’t be lonely, I promise.”
I wonder what Niko will be doing , I think, hitting the play button on thoughts of him . He hadn’t mentioned the holiday in our conversations. Would he fly back to Baltimore for the day? I bet his family would insist on tha—
“A holiday with CiCi, I can’t even imagine,” Mom declares, interrupting my
“Oh, Lex, have a good day.” She pauses and whips out a bottle of perfume, spraying it on her slender neck. “And make me look good. Niko’s watching.”
Kimberlee turns on her heel and flounces out the door, leaving a trail of expensive perfume in her wake.
And my stomach in knots.
Kimberlee is after Niko.
Jealousy consumes me as I stare at her image on the screen. Not that Niko would want her, of course.
Right?
I mean, he didn’t even bat an eye at Kenley when he met her.
But Kenley wasn’t available.
Kimberlee is.
I swallow hard and stare at her perfect image, her perfume swirling in the air around me, and I feel sick.
With uneasiness in my chest, I begin to edit the woman who has made it clear she’s after the only man I’ve ever wanted.
The game is on, apparently.
I’m not the only one who wants Niko.
And I pray that Kimberlee isn’t going to screw everything up between us.
Chapter 13
The One Online Dating Service Profile Question: You’re in the early stages of a relationship. A holiday is approaching. Do you ask him/her to spend the holiday with you? Is it too much? Too scary? Too bold?
My write-in answer: Dare I even ask Niko to Thanksgiving dinner? Would it freak him out? Especially because we’re just coworkers? How do I ask him without making it sound like a date, but more than friends? I’ve never felt more clueless in my life . . .
“Sweetheart, are you sure can’t take off work to come to Aspen?” Mom asks as she folds some sweaters to put into her suitcase. “It doesn’t feel right to have Thanksgiving there without you.”
I watch as she lines up her cashmere sweaters and gently places them in her black Prada suitcase. It’s Monday night, and I came over to have dinner with Mom and Dad after a hellacious day editing Kimberlee’s God-awful footage and trying not to obsess over her meeting with Niko today.
Which is proving to be statistically impossible to do, but at least talking to my mom is forcing me to at least hit the pause button on that train of thought.
So here I am, sitting in my mom’s room as she gets ready to leave for our cabin in Aspen. She always goes a week early to get everything lined up for all the guests coming in, but this year, for the first time, I won’t be one of them.
“Mom,” I say, tracing my fingers over the silver tone-on-tone stripes in her duvet, “I was asked to edit a hockey game the night before Thanksgiving and the night after. This is when staff people are off, and this is my chance to do edit highlights for the game intermissions. I really want to do it.”
“But it’s the holidays.” Mom pauses and locks her hazel eyes on mine. “I can’t imagine a holiday without you. Maybe we should stay here instead.”
“No,” I say firmly. “You know Dad needs to ski to decompress. He loves Colorado. And the rest of the family will be there, too.”
Mom nods. She knows I’m right. Dad is the CFO of an oil company in Dallas and has a very high-pressured job. He needs to be in Aspen to step away from work, if only for a week.
“Well, maybe we can fly you in and back on Thanksgiving Day,” Mom says hopefully.
I shake my head. “No, I can’t take the chance of being stuck. I have to show I can step in when needed. I’m going to prove to them I’m reliable and that I can cut a live show edit in addition to a magazine.”
“But you won’t be with family,” Mom says.
“Mom,” I say firmly, “I’m going to have Thanksgiving at CiCi’s. I’ll be with Amanda and Kenley. It’ll be fine. I won’t be lonely, I promise.”
I wonder what Niko will be doing , I think, hitting the play button on thoughts of him . He hadn’t mentioned the holiday in our conversations. Would he fly back to Baltimore for the day? I bet his family would insist on tha—
“A holiday with CiCi, I can’t even imagine,” Mom declares, interrupting my
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