Frosting Her Christmas Cookies - Alina Jacobs Page 0,113

of January. We had a meeting to pick the finalist just yesterday. Morticia was everyone’s top choice, especially for the art piece she submitted for the scholarship. If she’s going to be traveling back and forth, then she may not get as much out of it as someone else.”

White noise rushed in my ears. Morticia was leaving? To Los Angeles? For an internship? I felt sick.

“No. No way,” I said emphatically. “You must be misinformed. Morticia told me she was staying; she said she wasn’t leaving. She promised. There is a mistake. If Morticia had any intention of taking the internship, she would have told me. I didn’t even know she had applied! She must have just done it on a whim.”

“It was too grueling an application process to do on a whim,” Zarah replied.

“Morticia has no intention of taking an internship in Los Angeles.” I barked out a laugh. “That’s on the other side of the country from me. There’s no way we’re doing the long-distance thing. There is no way she’s accepting the offer. You should give it to someone else.”

“I see,” Zarah said finally. “Thank you for informing me. I will tell the panel.”

I felt guilty. I should tell Zarah that maybe she should ignore what I had said. But then Morticia smiled at me from across the room. I couldn’t lose her. I had to keep her with me. She wouldn’t find out. She would be happy with me.

61

Morticia

Jonathan gazed at me adoringly. It almost hurt my heart that I was going to have to leave him in January.

“So you really think they are giving me the internship?” I whispered to Dorothy.

“Oh, definitely,” she said. “I heard through the grapevine that you were at the top of everyone’s list! Now, I know you’re going to be off living your best artist’s life in Los Angeles, but you have to come back while I hash out the Hamilton Yards development. Those Svenssons are trying to railroad me, I just know it.”

“If it isn’t the two most beautiful women at the party,” Jonathan said, sauntering up to us.

“You charmer!” Dorothy giggled.

I smiled up at him. Jonathan was funny and sweet and, of course, hot.

And you’re just going to leave him.

Not leave…the internship is for a year. People have long-distance relationships.

The live band started playing “What’s This?” from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

“They’re playing our song!” Jonathan said and grabbed me around the waist.

“How is this our song?” I asked with a laugh as he twirled me on the dance floor.

“It’s Christmas music and Halloween music,” he said as the band rocked out to its own cover version of the song.

I was laughing and happy after it was over. Maybe I should reject the internship.

No. I decided Jonathan would be understanding. Besides, there were airplanes and video chats.

I did want to do something nice for him, though, to cut back some of my guilt. I tugged him away from the party and upstairs to his darkened office.

His smile was dangerous as he softly shut the door behind us. “If anyone asks, I have work that can’t wait for tomorrow.”

“Is this another pained metaphor for fucking me?”

“Would you prefer it not be?”

I smirked. “No, no, let’s have me stand here in this fancy dress, watching you...I don’t know, crunch numbers in Excel or whatever it is you do.”

He grunted. “Hey, maybe that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

I reached behind me and found the zipper of my dress, pulling it down enough to loosen it and reveal the bra and panties beneath it. I sauntered over to his big, fancy executive chair, spun it around, and sat down on it, nice and wide legged for him.

“Now,” I said, “you could crunch a bunch of numbers and do some meaningless math.”

“That does sound utterly enthralling, yes.”

“Or you could have this.” I waved my hand down my body.

“You are making a very compelling argument, Morticia. I can’t deny that.” He licked his lips as he looked at me, and it was then that I knew that after a long moment of thinking and soul searching, he had made his decision.

“Why don’t you use that tongue on my lips instead of your own?”

He smiled and moved to do as I asked, but I raised a finger between us. “I didn’t mean those lips.”

His smile grew wider. “I like the way you think.”

Jonathan dropped to one knee then the other. His fingers trailed down my body, and my flesh perked up from his touch as