Charming Co-Worker - Jeannine Colette Page 0,25

want to bask in their sweetness. This is what I love about this man. His gentle demeanor and charismatic manner are what I’ve always wanted.

“I was just trying to be a good assistant.”

His reaches over and squeezes my hand, his fingers moving just slightly into my palm and sending a zing up to my chest. “You’re much more, Katherine.”

A sound escapes my lips. I’m pretty sure it’s a whimper. Yes, I just whimpered at the sweet words my boss had just said.

On that note, before I embarrass myself any further, I stand and lift the binder, handing it to Branson, who is getting up from his chair as well.

“I’ll leave you to continue reviewing these.”

His fingers run over the numbers on the page as I walk around the desk and toward the doorway.

“Did you have a good date last night?” He stops me mid-step.

“Date?” I ask, confused. Oh, right. “Yes, Hunter and I went to Tavern on the Green. It was so beautiful with the garland strung from the rafters, and the tree was glistening in gold. It really puts you in the holiday spirit.”

He looks up at me, eyes narrowing slightly as his head tilts to the side. “Let me guess. It was your idea.”

I laugh lightly. “How’d you know?”

Branson abandons the report and turns, resting his hip against the desk. “Hunter isn’t exactly the holiday-spirit kind of chap.”

“He likes it more than he lets on,” I say a tad dreamily as I think of what he said about his family.

A Johnstone family holiday sounds like it could be pretty special. From his mom’s cooking to his lewd uncle and his grandma who falls asleep everywhere, it sounds pretty fantastic actually.

“Just make sure you don’t get pissed on nog around him. Women tend to give in to his charms a little too easily.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “People change. Sometimes, you find love in the most unexpected places.”

His forehead wrinkles with the baffled face he makes. “You love him?”

“Oh God, no! That was just … an expression. You know, people meet in the workplace all the time and fall in love. That’s what I meant. Not that he and I are. You and I could. Fall in love. Shoot. I am just walking all over myself right now.” I slap myself on the forehead and fight the embarrassment, burying my face deep into my palm.

Branson doesn’t make a sound. He does this often, as if he’s trying to decode my words into his proper British rhetoric. It makes me wonder why I even speak sometimes.

“What are your plans this Thursday night?” Branson’s question has me snapping out of my pondering and dropping my hand to look at him.

“That’s Christmas Eve,” I explain.

He steps back with a nod. “Yes, well, I spend the holiday with some friends. Nothing big. Just a dinner at Adour, followed by drinks and shenanigans. I thought perhaps you’d like to join me.”

“On Christmas Eve?” I state again, this time slowly.

It’s not that I don’t want to be asked out by Branson on Christmas Eve. I mean, this is exactly what I’ve been yearning for, for so long. And yet here he is, and … well, I’m just … confused.

“Yes. Right.” He adjusts his tie and turns to walk away but stops and turns around to face me again. “You have plans with family, I take it?”

I tilt my head at him, puzzled. “My family’s in Ohio.”

For a man who’s been my employer for two years, I’m surprised he’s staring at me like this is the first time he’s learning this.

“So, you’re stag?” He raises his brows in interest.

“Kind of.” I lift a hand as I explain, “I’m volunteering at a soup kitchen at the men’s home on Bowery.”

His mouth puckers like I said something awful. “Why would you do something like that?”

I’m taken aback by his comment. My mouth parts in surprise as I take in his reaction, waiting for him to clarify himself. He doesn’t.

“Spend the holiday with me.”

“With you?” I ask, bewildered. “You want me to spend Christmas Eve with you?” Yes, I’m asking this again because … well, I’m confused.

“It was a simple request, love.” The eager smile that graces his face baffles me.

I run a hand over my head and close my eyes. I’d be a foolish girl to get my hopes up. “I would love to assist you on Christmas Eve, but I made a commitment.”

“That’s just silly,” he says with a laugh.

“It’s not really. I promised—”

“Why would I

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