A Holiday Temptation - Tiffany Patterson Page 0,7

died from an overdose, I didn’t feel this uncomfortable. Probably because at Dierdre’s funeral, I’d been numb and more concerned with making sure her younger sister, Desiree, my other best friend, was okay.

However, now, as I stand in this spacious boardroom with only Mark and myself, the closer he gets, the more and more the walls seem to close in on me.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demands in a low but vicious tone of voice.

I force myself to push the air out of my lungs and open my mouth. “M-Mark, I—”

“Why are you here?”

I swing my gaze from one side of the room to the other, somewhat hoping that someone else will answer for me. When no one does, I manage to get my brain working again.

Lifting my chin, I stare at him and answer, “I’m working.”

His jaw clenches, and I have to fight not to break eye contact.

“For Cypress? All of a sudden?” The accusation in his voice is palpable.

I nod, nonetheless. “I moved back to Williamsport a month ago.” I bite my tongue just in time to keep the words after my father died from slipping out.

“Go back to wherever the hell you were before.”

I flinch at the harshness in his tone. The deep line on his forehead speaks of his rage.

But I can’t go back. My mother needs me here. Even if she doesn’t know it.

“No. And you and I need to find some way to work together. I-I’m sorry about the past, and—”

“Don’t you dare speak to me of the past,” he growls, effectively cutting me off. “You don’t ever get to mention shit about the past to me.”

The pain of his words cuts through my belly, but somehow I manage to keep myself upright.

“Fine. But, we still have a job to do.”

“I’m not working with you.” Shaking his head fervently, his lips pinch. However, as he pivots his chair to move around me, I take the bold move of stepping in front of him. His scowl grows angrier, something a moment ago, I didn’t think was possible.

“Move.”

“I will. Once we work out a schedule to get this project done.”

He opens his mouth, and before words come out, I already know it’s going to be another refutation of our working together.

Interrupting, I insist, “We have to, Mark.” I quickly glance over my shoulder, making sure that we’re still the only ones in the room. “Look, this is uncomfortable for both of us. I get it. Yet, we’re adults. Professionals. And we have a lot to get done in the next seven and a half weeks. Your boss doesn’t seem like the type to fool around. He put you in charge of this assignment. I’m assuming that means he trusts you to get it done.”

I pause, allowing time for my words to sink in. The line in Mark’s forehead eases, just a pinch, but enough that I can see common sense is overtaking his anger.

He runs a hand across his forehead, rubbing the tension out as he stares down into his lap.

I take this time to let my gaze settle on him for the first time since I entered this boardroom. It makes no sense for me to notice how absolutely gorgeous he still is. The same as he was when we were teenagers. Back then, he had the height advantage at six-foot-one at sixteen. Now, he doesn’t need the height to still be as eye-catching with his dirty blond hair thanks to his Irish roots, chiseled jaw, and light hazel eyes.

Back in high school, those eyes always appeared to be smiling with the smallest amount of mischief tucked away inside of their depths. Right now, though, there’s nothing hidden about the ways his eyes reveal how much he despises the fact that we’ve been thrown together on this project.

“You’re right. Aaron trusts me, and this job is important to me. We’ll work together. Via phone and email only. I don’t want to see your face.”

His response leaves me stunned long enough that he’s able to maneuver his chair around my body and out of the door before I can even respond.

“Ready to go?” Jase questions, having returned from his meeting with Aaron.

Silently, I nod and follow Jase out of the boardroom. Suzette reappears, just as cheery as she was before, and walks us down the long hallway toward the exit. Peering over, I see Mark at the lobby’s main entranceway, staring into his computer screen as he speaks into a headset.

Resisting the urge