Crashing Christmas: A Billionaire Office Romance Page 2

  Despite my life of privilege, my father taught me what it means to work hard, never give up when you want something, and above everything else, win.

  My shower is steaming hot when I get inside. Regretfully, it’s time to wash away the scent of sex and Miss Jillian Harmon. I take my time in the steam this morning, a luxury I don’t often take. I’ll be damned, I’m still smiling. I can’t stop thinking about her rose red lips and the way they parted into an O every time she’d climax. I lost track of how many times she had an orgasm last night. Over and over again.

  Drying off, I stand in my closet trying to pick out something to wear today. I have more clothes than any one man needs, but another thing my father taught me was to dress for success, no matter what. Today I go for a pair of dark jeans, a white button-up, and a navy sweater. It’s a Saturday, but I need to see my lawyer. I don’t have an appointment, but he’ll make time for me.

  Decisions need to be finalized about my new company acquisition.

  Even drunk, Jillian has a confident fiery attitude. Though it’s my habit to remove supervisory staff at companies I buy, I’m reconsidering removing her. After all, she might make the transition easier for those who remain. And she might make life more interesting for me as I take over.

  Making coffee in my French press, I pick up my cell and hit William’s number.

  He answers on the second ring. “What can I do for you today, Mr. Morgan?”

  “Can we meet?” I ask as a courtesy.

  William is cooking something. I can hear the familiar scrape of a metal spatula in a pan. He’s probably making breakfast for his wife and kids. Pancakes or bacon and eggs. “You need to see me today, Jack?”

  “I hate to pull you away from anything pressing on a Saturday, but we need to talk. It’s about the ad agency I acquired,” I say.

  “Oh, I thought we squared everything away. Did something new come up?”

  My coffee is ready, so I pour it in my mug and take a sip. Strong and bitter, just the way I like it. “We need to expedite the plan. I’m going in Monday to let some employees go. I’ll give them a decent severance package and the opportunity to start their Christmas vacation early.” I smile when I say it to make it sound nicer. These are the things I do to help me sleep at night.

  There’s muffling on the line, as if he has the phone up to his ear and he’s trying to hold it there with his shoulder. There are voices in the background. William’s a busy guy this morning. “Can you meet later this afternoon, say three o’clock?”

  I check my watch; it gives me time to take care of a few things before we meet. “Sounds perfect. See you at my office.”

  “Great,” he says.

  “Goodbye.” I’m about to hang up when I hear his voice.

  “Jack, Linda wants to know if you can join us for our family Christmas party on the twenty-fourth?”

  “Thank you for the invite. Tell Linda that unfortunately I already have plans,” I tell him.

  “I figured you would, but Linda and the kids would love to see you. Maybe we can set something up after the new year,” he suggests.

  “Yes, I’d like that,” I say and turn off my phone.

  The truth is I can’t stand Christmas and everything it represents. I’ve been to William’s house two Christmas Eves in a row now. It’s so damned depressing. He’s got twin daughters who are eight and a five-year-old son. They’re all excited and filled with Christmas cheer. I’m a miserable addition to the festivities, with the exception of the aged scotch I bring along with presents for the kids.

  I’m thirty-five years old. I’m supposed to be married by now with a couple kids of my own. Then the holidays would be special, and I wouldn’t have to spend it green with envy over all the things I don’t have. Ever since I broke up with my last girlfriend, who I caught fucking her trainer, I haven’t been able to trust. It was a massive blow to my ego, even if it never truly impacted my heart.

  Enough counterproductive thoughts.

  I go to my closet and pull out a suitcase. I’ll need warm clothing, sweaters, and wool socks. My ski gear is already at the cabin. If I breathe in hard enough, I can almost smell the crisp Adirondack Mountain air and pine trees. My muscles relax thinking about drinking a scotch in front of my fireplace.

  Next on my list is to call Fred, the caretaker, and have him prepare the cabin and have it stocked and ready for my arrival Monday night. I’ll need to relax after arriving. Firing a bunch of people right before Christmas is bound to be mentally draining.

  Three

  Jillian

  “Cheers to Sunday brunch with my bestie,” I say as Nicole and I clink our mimosa glasses together. “This is exactly what I need after my day yesterday.”

  Nicole takes several sips of her drink and sets it down in front of her. “What happened?”

  “I was over-served Friday night at the office Christmas party and paid the price all day yesterday.” I cringe thinking about my day-long headache and the number of times I got sick. “This is the first I’ve been able to think about eating or drinking anything.”

  Nicole gives me pouty face. “Glad you’re feeling better today.”

  “Thanks,” I say before popping a forkful of French toast in my mouth.

  She has a perky grin on her face.

  Narrowing my eyes, I say, “What’s up with you? Did you get laid?”

  “Maybe. Jealous much?” Her green eyes sparkle wickedly.

  “Not even a little. I had sex Friday night, too.”

  Her mouth drops open and she grabs my hand. “No way. Who was it?”

  Nicole and I share all of our secrets. Every. Single. One. As much as it still stings that I shagged a random, I’m not going to let myself feel too guilty because it was some of the best sex I’ve ever had. “It was nobody you’d know. In fact, I don’t know him. Met him at a bar after the office Christmas party. I was trying to drown my sorrows in liquor after hearing that the ad agency is getting bought out and many of us will lose our jobs.”

  She can’t hide her surprise. “Wait. The company was bought out right before Christmas and you might lose employees? That’s terrible. No wonder you got drunk. The part I’m most shocked about is that you hooked up with a guy you’ve never met before.”

  “I know. Trust me, when I woke up in his bed Saturday morning naked, I couldn’t believe it either. But I don’t regret it. The sex was wildly amazing,” I say.

  “No need for regrets if two consenting adults enjoyed themselves.” She points her finger at me. “Did you have any awkward conversation as you were leaving?”

  Shaking my head, I say, “No, I hightailed it out of there as quick as my hangover would allow. He never woke up. Thank God. I didn’t even get his name, or if I did, I don’t remember it. All I wanted to do was get out of there so I’d never see him again.”

  “You should’ve gotten his name and number. If you had that much fun together, you could’ve had a repeat performance.” Her eyes widen.

  My stomach does a back handspring and an ache builds between my thighs at the prospect of going another round with Mr. Sexgod. “It’s for the best. That liquid courage had me doing things I’ve never done before. We got pretty kinky. If we did it again sober, I couldn’t live up to the expectations. It was a one-night stand, and that’s all it’s supposed to be. But enough about my night; what about yours? I want all the details.”

  She smiles full on, every single white tooth showing. “It’s a guy from the office.”

  I give her a stern look. “Is that a good idea?” There’s no way I would do that. An office romance is too close for comfort.

  “It’s Graham.”

  I gasp. “Your boss?” Does that make it better or worse? I could never do that. Right now, my agency’s CEO is practically an antique who doesn’t even understand social media, which is probably why the company was bought out.

  She nods slowly and pales. “I thought this was a judge-free zone.”

  I rub my temples and take a s
ip of my drink. “Of course it is. I’m sorry, I just don’t want you to get hurt or lose your job. You have me thinking about my new boss. Let me look him up.” Pulling out my phone, I type “Jack Morgan” in my search bar.

  “There aren’t any pictures. It essentially says that he’s a reclusive billionaire,” I say, scrolling through all the search results.

  Nicole spreads a thick layer of strawberry jam on her toast. “No pictures?”

  “I’m not finding any,” I say.

  “Maybe he’s horribly disfigured and the only way he finds joy in this world is by making others miserable.”

  This makes me giggle. “Pretty sure he has enough money to look however he wants. Maybe stick to sleeping with the boss, because you suck at this detective stuff.”

  “Haha, you’re so funny,” Nicole says.

  “It’s my goal in life.” I love our easy banter that comes from years of friendship. We’ve been friends since grade school and have been there for all of each other’s ups and downs. “Do you want to get together on Christmas Eve or day?”

  Wiping the corners of her mouth with her napkin, she says, “Can’t. Graham asked me to go skiing with him in Vermont.”

  I tilt my head and pause. “You don’t ski.”

  Her mouth quirks. “I know, but I do hot tub. And I love hot cocoa. And this place is supposed to have those really cute St. Bernard rescue dogs.”

  Oh, how Nicole loves dogs. “Right. Enough said.”

  “Why aren’t you going to LA to be with your family?” she asks.

  I take the last swallow of my mimosa and set the glass in front of me. I’d love to see my parents and sister. My heart aches a little that it isn’t going to work this year. “They were supposed to come here, but now with the predicted Nor’easter, they’re staying where it’s warm. And with everything so up in the air at the office, I can’t get away.”

  “I’m sorry that I won’t be here to keep you company,” she says with a sympathetic look on her face.

  The waiter drops the check off. I glance at it and pull some cash out of my purse to pay my half.

  We leave the restaurant together and walk in the direction of my apartment. Hers is only a few blocks past mine.

  She chats about her upcoming trip and seems so excited. She got a Brazilian wax and a new fire engine red pedicure in preparation for the trip. I keep my negativity about her screwing around with her boss to myself. She’s a big girl, and far be it for me to burst her bubble.

  We’re at my apartment building so I wrap Nicole up in a hug. “Listen, don’t feel a bit guilty about leaving your best friend to face the holidays alone,” I say in my most joking tone.

  She pats me on the shoulder. “We’ll get together when I return. It’s only a few days. Want me to bring you something?”

  I tie my scarf a little tighter around my neck. It’s freezing out here. “A ski patrol guy. I hear they’re hot.”

  “I was thinking some maple syrup,” Nicole says.

  “Let’s negotiate. A ski patrol guy dipped in maple syrup.”

  Nicole gives me a genuine smile. “Someday you’ll spend Christmas with the right guy and it will be perfect. I promise.”

  I can only hope she’s right.

  Four

  Jack

  I’ve gone over everything a half-dozen times. I’m confident in my decisions. In the morning, I’ll go to the office and handle my business, even if it means using a wrecking ball before Christmas.

  Pouring myself my third—or is it my fourth? —scotch for the evening, I take a seat in my favorite leather chair in my study. It’s worn in and fits me like a glove.

  My stomach growls rather loudly. Damn, I don’t think I even ate dinner tonight. Screw it.

  My father would be proud of me, making the hard decisions. Not everyone is cut out for being a hard-ass. But they aren’t as rich and powerful as I am. Power and success trump all. That’s what Dad always used to say. He died a very rich man, albeit alone. He and Mom split when I was thirteen. He never had time for her, but she needed attention. She ended up finding it with the pool boy. I didn’t hold it against her. Turns out he wasn’t just a hard ass to his employees.

  One more glass. I pour two fingers into the tumbler and let the burn swirl down my throat.

  I wonder if I’m meant to be alone forever like my dad. It’d serve me right. I don’t make time for love, much less romance. Candles and flowers aren’t my thing. But that’s what women want. I’m better off being alone. That way I don’t have to disappoint anyone.

  Holy shit. I’m awoken by Maggie, my housekeeper, opening my blinds, letting bright rays of sun stream into my study. My eyes sting and I have a sharp kink in my neck. “What are you trying to do to me?”

  “You’re too old to be sleeping in your study,” Maggie says, her hand on her wide hip. She’s been my housekeeper for as long as I can remember, and that includes when she worked for Dad. She’s been hounding me for years to settle down, get married, and have a gaggle of kids.

  It takes a moment, but I ease myself to my feet, attempting to hide my complete and utter discomfort and this hangover. She’s absolutely right; no one at any age should sleep upright in a chair. “I’m fine, Maggie. I had to get work done.”

  She lifts my glass from last night and sniffs it, crinkling her nose. “Sure. Work.” Setting the glass back down, she asks, “Need me to call the massage therapist?”

  “No. I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to keep me from work.” There’s a small, almost imperceptible tightness to her brow. She’s mad that I’m determined to fire so many people “for no good reason.” Her words, not mine.

  She sighs, loudly. She’s been doing it a lot lately. “Can’t you give them a chance to prove themselves first?”

  Maggie practically raised me when I stayed at Dad’s house every summer and I want to please her, but I wasn’t taught to be a gentleman in business. Dad taught me that cutthroat and decisive is the only way to be. “I already told you, I have to get rid of the old staff, avoid insubordination, and fill the positions from within my own company where I know I’ve got loyalty.”

  Maggie shakes her head; her gray bun stays firmly in place. She walks out of the room giving me the side-eye. She knows from years of trying that she’s not going to get anywhere with me, but she’s compelled to do it anyway.

  My movements are stiff and rigid from the awkward sleeping position last night. A shower might help. But first, I need coffee. Leaving my study, I see Maggie is standing in the kitchen pouring me a cup now. “You’re a godsend,” I tell her and take the steaming mug from her hand. Inhaling the sweet aroma, I take a sip and shuffle off to my room.

  I shave, shower, take three aspirin, and now I’m feeling marginally better than when I woke up.

  William, my attorney, has a car waiting for me out front of my building. We’re riding together to go over any last minute preparations. Getting in the back seat, I say, “Good morning.”

  “What’s going on? Anything I need to know about?” He’s examining me like he thinks I’ve brought an explosive with me today. His eyes are narrowed, and his face is twisted into a grimace.

  The question is so out of left field, I’m caught off guard. “What is it?”

  His index finger points to my head. “It’s your face. Something is different this morning. ’Fess up.”

  This man knows me too well. There’s no sense in trying to hide this from him. “I met one of the employees. She’s a supervisor. Only I never told her who I was.”

  “In what capacity did the two of you…?” His eyes don’t leave mine. “Don’t tell me. Is it possible she won’t recognize you?” he asks.

  “Oh, no. There’s no way she forgot who I am,” I tell him with a nod. My chest gets tight at the thought of seeing her this morning. She’s beautiful and feisty, but I expect she’ll want nothing to do with me once I go in and fire the bulk of the staff.

  William is loosening and retightening his tie. It’
s a nice one, probably imported. I’ll have to ask Linda where she got it. William doesn’t shop for himself. “I’m surprised to see you flustered over a woman. I’ve never seen you like this.”

  I let out a deep laugh. “My heart is practically stone. Really.”

  “But are you having second thoughts? Because we can go in with a different approach. We don’t even have to go there today. We can meet up after the holidays and talk to the staff after the new year.” He has an expectant look on his face.

  “No. That won’t do. I’ve got a reputation to protect. If I start going soft now, then there will be nothing but struggles and negotiations in my future. I don’t bargain.”

  “Whatever you say. Let’s do this.” The car pulls up in front of the office building.

  We climb out of the car. I take a couple of deep breaths, smooth the front of my suit, and check myself for lint. Puffing out my chest, we enter the building and take the elevator up to the ninth floor, the home of my new ad agency.

  Amazingly enough, despite the hustle and bustle of the office, the minute I exit the elevator, I find her instantly. She’s sitting in her office on the far side of the building. Our eyes meet. My pulse races. And I nearly falter in following through with the plan.

  Five

  Jillian

  I stop everything. Maybe even breathing. The hot stranger I slept with Friday night just walked in the agency. His hazel eyes are locked on mine. Heat spreads through me; I’m sure I’m blushing.

  How did he track me down?

  He’s walking in with the lawyer that’s been here representing Jack Morgan.

  I inhale sharply.

  Holy shit. I slept with Jack Morgan.

  A flush of adrenaline courses through me.