Charming Co-Worker - Jeannine Colette Page 0,10

Maybe with some practice, I’ll have the same effect on men.

“This is me,” I say, clearing my throat and pointing toward my apartment that’s just a few buildings away.

Hunter nods his head and walks with me to the building. When we get to the front door, he waits as I get my key ring out and slide the lock.

Stepping inside, I turn to him. “Thank you for walking me home.”

He searches inside the narrow foyer, as if assessing whether it’s safe or not. “Text me when you get upstairs.”

“I’ve managed to make it safely up the stairs on my own for two years.”

“Now, I’m here, so I’ll hang out until you let me know you’re okay.”

I stare up at him with an incorrigible gaze. My defiance has him lowering his head to mine.

“Good night, kid,” he says, leaning forward and placing a kiss low on my cheek, close to my jaw.

“A Casablanca thing, huh?” I muse.

He grins and steps onto the sidewalk, slowly backing away. I enter my hallway and climb up the stairs to my five-floor walk-up.

When I get inside, I’m careful not to wake my roommate, Sofia, who is sleeping on the couch. She looks so peaceful, curled up under the red-and-white throw blanket I put out for the holidays. The television is on, showing a Netflix what to watch next screen, which means she fell asleep while watching a movie.

I lift the remote off the coffee table and turn the TV off. The only light in the room now comes from the Christmas tree in the corner, lit beautifully.

I step over to the window and peek through the curtain. True to his word, Hunter is standing on the sidewalk, looking up. His coat collar is still perked up the way I placed it before, and he’s absolutely handsome, standing in the snow glistening under the streetlight.

I take out my phone, flick the lamp on, and send him a text.

I’m home. Thank you for waiting.

He slides his phone out of his pocket and reads the message. When he glances up, his eyes collide with mine as he lifts a hand to his lips before raising his fingers in the air.

I catch the kiss and bring it to my lips.

“You’re amazing at the hunt, Mr. Johnstone,” I say against the pads of my fingers, and then I let my hand fall with a sigh. “Too bad you don’t believe in long-term romance. I have a feeling you’d be really good at it.”

With a soft smile lifting my cheeks, I close the curtain and step back from the window.

“You’re home early,” Sofia grumbles from the couch as she lets out a yawn.

“Shoot. I was trying not to wake you. It’s actually pretty late.” I walk toward her and motion to the television. “I noticed you had a Netflix binge tonight.”

She runs a hand through her thick brown hair as she sits up. She’s wearing an oversize sweatshirt that reads I Heart NY. “Yeah, well, since I had the place to myself, I figured I’d take over the living room, eat jalapeños, and cram in all the sci-fi I could handle.”

I laugh at her nightly description. Since we moved in together, we’ve agreed on almost everything, except for her love of supernatural shows and spicy foods. Judging from the takeout box from La Contenta, I know she’s had her fill of hot sauce for the month. As they say, when the cat’s away, the mice will play.

Speaking of cats, my fancy feline walks out of my bedroom toward the sound of my voice. With his paws covered in white, my boy sashays into the room and lets out a long stretch, like he just woke up from a yearlong nap.

“Was Mittens in my room all night?” I ask as I swoop my kitty into my arms. He’s actually not a kitty, as he’s seven and rather fat.

“That there is the snobbiest cat in all of Manhattan,” she says as she gathers her containers of food into a pile but not bothering to get up and throw them away.

I look down at Mittens, who is purring in my arms with closed eyes and a smile. “He’s an angel,” I baby-talk to him.

“He’s the devil in black-and-white fur.”

Mittens gives Sofia the side-eye before leaping out of my arms and sauntering back to my room. “He’s a rescue. You have to earn his trust.”

“He should trust I won’t feed him to the rottweiler in 2B,” she says as we watch Mittens’s tail dance as