Charming Co-Worker - Jeannine Colette Page 0,66
back of my throat.
When I come up for air, Hunter gets onto his feet, his pants dangling round his hips.
“What’s the matter? You didn’t like it?”
“Worse. I love it.” He lifts me off the ground and hoists me over his shoulder, caveman-style.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Taking you to the bedroom.”
“You could have had me on the floor.” I giggle.
“No, baby,” he says as he walks us down the hallway. “We’re going to rock the fucking sleigh bed.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Branson Ford’s office,” I answer the phone.
“This is Empire Media Security. There’s a delivery here for Katherine McGee.”
“Where’s it from?” I didn’t order anything.
“Saks Fifth Avenue.”
The guard doesn’t need to say another word. I tell her I’ll be right there and prance down to the lobby to accept my dress. I thought I was going to pick it up at the store tonight. Looks like Jasmine knew I’d be strapped for time. I hang the dress on the hook of the coat rack that sits by the door and get back to work.
Tomorrow is my presentation for the shareholders, and I’m getting nervous. I haven’t presented in front of a large group since college, and even then, I was a wreck. It takes me a few minutes to warm up. If I can get through the first five minutes without stumbling over my words—or vomiting—I’ll be okay.
My phone rings again. This time, it’s Branson.
“I’m in a meeting with the Marketing department. I need you to go to my desk and run the portfolio down here.”
“Be right there.”
I’m out of my desk and rushing the five floors down to Marketing. It’s been that kind of day. Every time I get to my computer to go over my notes for the presentation, the phone rings, and I’m taken away. While the castle and dinner with Hunter were perfect yesterday, it has thrown me off schedule. I shouldn’t have left early. Not when I have such an important opportunity ahead of me.
When I’m back in my office, the phone rings again, and I take a message for Branson. I have about thirty minutes until he’s due back here, which means I finally have some peace.
The PowerPoint I prepared is in front of me, and I’m checking every single slide to make sure there are no spelling errors and the numbers are correct when I hear whistling from down the hall.
Hunter strolls in and sits on my desk. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Not now. I am crazy busy.”
He pouts. “But it’s a really good surprise.”
With a sigh, I look up into his dazzling caramel eyes. It’s hard to avoid a man this charming.
I roll my eyes while smiling. “I do love a surprise.”
“I know. That’s why I just booked us two tickets to Miami.” He holds up his phone as proof to show me that he did purchase said tickets. “I’m whisking my girl away for two nights of drinking, swimming, and maybe some dancing. There’s this amazing Cuban bar I’d love to take you to …”
I look at the screen.
Katherine McGee.
JFK > MIA.
December 31.
Departure: 4:06 p.m.
“Hunter,” I interrupt him, “that says we’re leaving on New Year’s Eve.”
“There is only one woman I plan to kiss when the clock strikes midnight. What better way than with a bottle of champagne and a dance for two on the sands of South Beach?”
I smile because this trip sounds amazing. It’s romantic and sweet and exactly what I’d love to be doing any other weekend, except this one because I already have plans.
“I can’t go to Miami with you,” I say.
His smile, the surefire grin he wears when he’s putting on the charm, fades. “Why not?”
“I have plans.” My eyes go to the garment bag on the coat rack. The very expensive dress I picked out to attend a gala with my boss.
His movements stop as he looks at it and then back to me. “What kind of plans?”
My shoulders fall as I scratch my head. This is definitely something we should have talked about. Then again, New Year’s plans haven’t been a discussion. I mean, it hasn’t been a week since Hunter and I started hooking up. We’ve never even officially said if we’re exclusive or not. Still, this is something I probably should have mentioned days ago. I’m such an idiot.
“There’s a gala at the Rainbow Room. I’m going.”
He nods slowly. “The same party Branson was asking you about on our way home from Connecticut?”
“Yes. He invited me as his plus-one.”
Hunter’s jaw drops. “His plus-one? As