Office Grump An Enemies to Lovers Romance - Nicole Snow Page 0,75

high-powered job on your own, and it’s sad that you had to borrow shoes from your friend when you started. Next year’s gift might not be so good, but you deserve this,” Mom says.

I love my parents so much.

What would they think if they knew I only got the job because I spit on a grumpalicious stranger in the park?

“I have something for you too,” I say.

I pick a white envelope off the tree and hold it out.

Mom reaches for it first, so I hand it to her.

She tears the envelope open.

“What is it?” Dad asks.

“A receipt...for the property taxes?” Mom says, bewildered. “Paid in full. Even the back taxes we owed the county...”

They both look at each other and then stare at me wide-eyed.

I grin and shrug. “I’m getting paid well now, and my expenses haven’t really gone up, so—” If anything, they’ve gone down because I’m always at work. “I thought I’d give you guys something you deserve, too.”

Dad gets up, stomps over, and hugs me so hard I shake. “Thank you, Brina babe.”

There’s nothing more satisfying than feeling like you’ve been able to give your parents something that counts.

Christmas dinner is just as wonderful, and I stay for one more pancake breakfast. When I leave, my parents rush out to the car and watch me drive away. Mom wipes tears from her eyes. They wave at me from the gate, and I wave back.

It’s all a little overdramatic. I’m just going into the city not even an hour away, but...I’ll miss them hardcore, and I know it’s mutual.

Back at the apartment, Paige greets me from the couch. “You’re home early! And it’s not even midnight—I thought you’d be right back at the grind. What do we owe this honor to?”

I shrug. “Heron kind of insisted I take the week after Christmas off. There’s only a skeleton crew at the office. So, are we getting Chinese or Italian today?”

“Chinese,” Paige says, bolting up. “I need a break from the Christmas sugar rush.”

“Okay, but it’s on me. You paid last time.”

Paige bounces up and puts her shoes on. “Good. Christmas broke me, and so did the studio. Turns out, four people wanted brand-new sculptures in time for presents. I barely had a week to get them together. Now I know what it’s like for you, minus Mr. Scary Hot.”

I giggle at her latest nickname. She’s a bottomless pit.

“The seventy-hour workweeks are tough,” I say. “But I’m glad I don’t have to worry about being broke anymore. I’m so glad you’re home today and free from art hell!”

We go out the front door, and Paige pulls it shut behind us.

“Hey, when we get in the car, I have to talk to you about something,” I tell her.

She locks the door and looks up, squinting. “Oh, just tell me, Brina.”

I follow her downstairs, scanning the area. The coast is clear, and even if it wasn’t, I know I’m being ridiculous for assuming anyone else would care about our drama.

“What? What is it?” she hisses, tugging on my arm.

“I’m just kind of mortified. I don’t want anyone overhearing,” I say.

“Ohhh,” Paige says, her eyebrows flying up. “This has to be good...or terrible.”

Once we’re in her car, I take a deep breath.

Here goes.

“I kissed him,” I blurt out, feeling the instant punch of red-faced shame.

“Whaaat?” Paige laughs, clapping her hands to her cheeks comically. “See? I knew this would be juicy. Who did you kiss?”

Crap. It isn’t obvious?

I stare out the passenger window, my throat tightening.

“Heron.” I have to push the word out and even then it’s barely audible. “In Arizona on that conference trip. I...I kissed—”

“Heron? Like the Magnus Heron? King of pissing you off and robbing you of sleep Magnus Heron? Holy—you kissed the flipping boss? You freaky little girl!” She draws the last three words out and bursts out laughing, bouncing in her seat. “Sorry. You know me. Joking! But go on.”

“Well, technically, I kissed him back. He started it,” I say into the window. “It was so sudden. He kissed me hard and I wanted more. When he pulled away, I shook, Paige. But that was a month ago in Phoenix. He said we’d never speak of it again, and he’s ignored me ever since. Up until this week when we swapped presents...”

“Insane. Is Zen Garden okay?” Paige asks, shaking her fist at a van that cuts us off in the traffic so hard her gold locks bounce.

“Perfect,” I say. “I need something yummy enough to forget I ever