can’t deal with this right now.”
“This? This, this? Between us?” He waggled his finger between us. “Is that what you’re acknowledging?”
“Doesn’t matter.” I showed him the hand. “Am I attracted to you, still, after all these years? Yes. Do I have time to indulge in you? No. Not this week, Coop. Not now.”
“Next week then?” His grin was alluring.
“Will you stop? Can we just be friends and co-workers and get through this week? Please? That’s all I ask. All I want for Christmas. Okay?”
He stood there, hands on hips, staring at me silently, but then he nodded. “Sure, Vic. Let’s get through this week. Let’s do it together.” He hugged me then, but I noticed that it was a hollow hug, which made me wonder if I’d just done something very stupid.
But was it? Was it stupid? I was in such a frazzle with this debacle of a Visit—and the guests hadn’t even arrived. My concierge skills were dull, the staff needed micromanaging and I, as a human being, simply did not have the capacity to handle all that and a red-hot love affair doomed to burn itself into a tiny fluttering wisp of a crisp.
But still, on some level, I kind of wish I did.
I really did.
Chapter Four
After Coop left the staff house, I woke up my minions and herded them through a rushed breakfast, handed out last-minute assignments, and sent Jed back for his shoes before heading to the main house. I didn’t see Cooper or his team, but I did see Mason. Sprawled on the ratty staff sofa in our ratty living room. On his back. Feet in the air. Tongue lolling out. Snoring.
What part of contained did Coop not understand? Mason could loll just as comfortably upstairs, in his bunk, rather than all over our itty-bitty living space. Farting.
But I did not have time for this. I had way too much to do.
First on the list was a check of each room in the guest house. Ken was waiting for me when I stepped into the lodge foyer, which opened to the great room. My breath caught. It was gorgeous! Beyond gorgeous. Oh, the Mistletoe Lodge was magnificent anyway, with its soaring beamed ceilings and the stately river rock fireplace, which ran all the way up to the roof. But now, decorated in white Christmas lights and boughs as it was…it was perfect.
Instrumental carols swirled in a subtle symphony. The scent of pine—which covered for the artificial tree—floated in the air. There may also have been some baking cookies in that air freshener too. It smelled so much like Christmas, I got excited for a second there. Christmas hadn’t excited me for a while. On account of the fact that I rarely got to celebrate it in my line of work.
Ken had outdone himself. Lights twined around the bannisters all the way up the stairs. The tree was the pièce de résistance—twelve feet tall and dressed in white bows and dove ornaments. It was a little bougie for me—I preferred my Charlie Brown Christmas trees—but it was ideal for this setting. Noble, haughty, and cold.
“Ken, it’s perfect,” I said. And he beamed.
I was just making my last pass through the house at 9:45, when a huge yelp and a great gushing sound welled from inside the powder room, just off the foyer. To their credit, my team converged on that vicinity in no time. I whipped open the door. And stared. At Jed, sopping wet, under the arching, and relentless spray of the bidet.
“Man,” he said, holding his jeans closed with one hand. “There’s something really wrong with this toilet!”
“Oh dear,” I said. As one would. On the one hand, this was hysterical. Really it was. Jed was skinny to begin with, but soaking wet? And with a death grip on his pants? And that stunned surprise lighting his eyes? I can just imagine why he freaked. A sudden and unexpected shot of cold water in certain places would be alarming.
But on the other hand, the guests could pull up any minute, and now the marble foyer was wet. An ice skating rink. “Can we get this cleaned up, please?” This, to anyone.
No one moved.
All right, fine. “Olivia and Wren? Please. And be sure to disinfect. As for you, Jed, what were you doing in there?”
He shrugged. “I had to take a dump.”
I sighed. “We use the facilities in the staff quarters, remember?” It was a good rule, because have you ever had to fold that