A Holiday Temptation - Tiffany Patterson Page 0,3
behalf of Aaron himself. However, I’m seen as a stepping stone to the real decision makers, which is not where I want to be long-term.
“Good morning, Aaron,” I greet as soon as he passes through the door, with his surly scowl in place.
It’s not unusual to see him scowling, so the face doesn’t bother me. However, his frown deepening does.
“Morning,” he grumbles, much the same way I had upon first entering the office.
“I can have the music turned down if you like? Better yet, let me call the guys in security to cut it off entirely.” I assume his frown is due to his distaste of holiday music.
I’m likely projecting because he lifts a dark eyebrow as he glances up. “What music?” He pauses a beat, and then waves his hand in the air. “The music is fine. Patience tells me it gives the office a warmer feel. She says it makes me more palatable to the staff or whatever.” He rolls his eyes.
Patience, Aaron’s wife, is probably the only person on the planet who could get Aaron to play music in the office willingly.
“One of the twins spilled their oatmeal on me this morning,” he gripes, glancing down at the dark grey button-up shirt beneath his black suit jacket.
For the first time since he entered, I see the stain. I don’t bother asking which twin he’s referring to, given the fact that he and Patience have two sets of twins that are almost seven years apart.
“I’m certain he did it on purpose so that I could give him back to his mother.” Aaron shakes his head, frowning. “Boy’s trying to steal my wife.”
I grin for the first time that morning. Theirs. One of Aaron and Patience’s younger twins. He’s a mama’s boy.
Aaron continues griping as he strolls down the hallway toward his office. I follow, same as I do each morning, running down his schedule for the day, which I always have memorized.
“The meeting with Cypress is going to take up the rest of the morning and probably spill into the afternoon. I’ve already told Suzette to put in a lunch order from the restaurant down the street that you like.”
He nods. “My soup?” he questions without peering up from the paper’s he’s shuffling through on his desk.
“They’ve already been told to make sure it’s available.”
“Good. I skipped breakfast this morning.” He takes a sip of his coffee that was left by Suzette. “I’m going to need you at the meeting with Cypress.”
“Already planned to be there. My schedule has been cleared.”
“Good. Now get out. I need to change my shirt before the day gets started.”
I dip my head and roll my chair backward, exiting the office to head back to my desk.
As irritating as this holiday music is and the accompanying decorations, I do my best to drown them out while focusing on this Cypress meeting. There’s nothing like a shit ton of work and the possibility of showing my skills to help force out the memories of the past.
“I’m nervous,” I admit to my direct manager, Jase.
He smiles warmly at me as we enter the spacious downstairs lobby of Townsend Industries. Stepping inside is like being enveloped into a winter wonderland. The lobby is beautifully decorated in various Christmas trees surrounded by gift-wrapped boxes as presents, and even a fake Santa riding a snowman to the far right.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Jase says, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead, I spot a hint of fear in his gaze. He, too, is intimidated by the infamous Aaron Townsend, whom we have a meeting with today.
Knowing this serves to increase the nervous tingles moving through my belly. Jase, unlike me, has met Mr. Townsend on many previous occasions in the lead up to this deal. If he’s still on pins and needles, then I can only imagine what I’m in store for. Mr. Townsend has a reputation for being commanding and even an outright bully.
Frowning, I run my teeth across my bottom lip, remembering my father. He, too, was a powerful man who bullied to get what he wanted. Only, he reserved his most extreme machinations for his family. To the outside world, he was the perfect state justice and family man.
“Good morning, I’m Jase Downing from Cypress Mental Health and Addiction,” Jase introduces to the security guard behind the desk in the lobby. “This is my co-worker, Jackie Hinkerson.”
The guard frowns. “Her name isn’t on the approved list.” The skin on his forehead