Holiday Bridal Wave - Gwyn McNamee Page 0,24
lake upstate.
The good memories I want to hang onto forever. It’s why I brought it to work in the first place. So, I’d have something to enjoy on the bad days.
Now, it’s gone. But I push away the tears threatening to form and settle in to start my day, hopefully with a boss who isn’t in a shit mood.
The elevator pings, and I stiffen and wait. Archie emerges with a carboard drink holder and a bag in his hands.
What the heck?
He never comes in with coffee. He always, always, always drinks it here—and I’m always the one who brings it to him. His Caribbean-blue eyes meet mine, and he offers me a half-smile.
“Good morning, Blaire.” He stops on the other side of my desk and nudges some of the snow globes out of the way to set down the drink carrier, which holds one plain paper cup and one sparkly holiday travel mug.
With a tiny grin, he pulls out the fancy holiday mug and holds it out to me. “White peppermint mocha, right?” One of his eyebrows rises.
“You know my drink?”
He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “So…I was right?”
I nod slowly and take it from him as I examine the cup scene with Santa and his reindeer flying across the snowy landscape. Exactly the one I would’ve picked if I had been there.
A smile pulls at his lips. “I thought you might like that one.”
“I do. Thank you.”
What the hell is going on?
Archie has never brought me coffee. Ever. He must feel really bad about what happened the other day.
“I’m—” he looks away for a second like he’s nervous. Not a Warren trait. “I’m really sorry about what happened the other day. I was frustrated, and I destroyed something you really cared about because I wasn’t in control of myself. I won’t ever let that happen again.”
He reaches in the bag and pulls out a small box wrapped in sparkly snowflake paper. His eyes meet mine, and he sets it in front of me and waits.
I set down my drink and examine the box. “What’s this? I don’t want any gifts from you, Archie.”
“It’s not a gift, really, just trying to make things right.”
Trying to make things right? That’s impossible.
But I tear into the paper slowly and peel it back to reveal a plain white cardboard box. I glance up at him in question, but he just shrugs.
I pop open the box, glance down inside it, and my breath catches. “Oh, my God. How?”
It’s impossible.
My hand trembles as I reach in and pull out the snow globe. My snow globe. The dad and the little girl skating across the frozen pond. “How did you find the exact same one?”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “I didn’t. After you left on Wednesday, I dug the base of the one I broke out of your garbage and then called around until I found somewhere that could put on new glass and refill it for you.”
The tears pool in my eyes, and one trickles down my cheek.
Oh, God. I can’t cry in front of my boss.
I swipe it away and examine the globe. “So, this is my snow globe. The one my dad gave me?”
He nods slowly. “I knew how much it meant to you. So, again, I’m sorry.”
I look up at him, his gaze full of concern and something else. He’s been paying enough attention to know my drink and how much this meant to me. I never would’ve thought that from the way he acts or the Warren reputation.
Maybe I’ve misjudged him.
I clear my throat of the emotion choking me and set down the snow globe. “Thank you. Really, that was above and beyond.”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s the least I could do.”
The shrill ring on the phone on my desk ends the weird moment between us, and I lean forward and pull it from the cradle. “Archimedes Warren’s office, how can I help you?”
“I need to talk to Archimedes.” Senator Warren’s harsh, cool tone sends a chill over me.
“Oh, hello, Senator Warren.”
Archie’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head.
“Sir, he isn’t in this morning, and I’m not sure when he’ll be available.”
“Tell that ungrateful son of mine that he can’t avoid me forever. DC is a short flight away.” His annoyance and anger vibrate through the line.
“I will let him know that, sir.” I hang up with a sigh.
Archie groans. “What did he say?”
“That you need to stop avoiding him, or he’ll fly back from