usual corner spot in front of the windows so the office towers nearby could see a little Christmas cheer.
“I spoke with Sylvie this weekend,” Jon said.
“What did she say?”
“She’s still working on convincing her husband, but by the sounds of things, he’s coming around. She sounds certain that they’re going to move forward with the app.”
“And me?” I asked. “Do they want to work with me?”
“Careful, son. You’re starting to sound desperate.” Jon winked.
I scowled. “Desperate and eager are two different things.”
“Use whatever word makes you feel better.”
“If you weren’t my boss, I’d tell you off.”
“If I wasn’t your boss, I’d expect nothing less from you.”
We both chuckled and I looked up and spotted Kathryn arriving for the day. She stepped off the elevator and didn’t so much as bat an eye at the new decor all over the place. She said good morning to Caroline and strode purposely past the break room toward her office. She wore an all-black ensemble: black skirt, black nylons, black pumps, and a black blouse. There wasn’t a single festive thing on her. In fact, she looked like she was going to a funeral.
“That woman has to lighten up,” I said.
Kathryn stopped in her tracks. Her head turned as if on a swivel in my direction.
“Oh shit,” I muttered.
Jon hid his smile in the rim of his coffee mug and continued sipping as Kathryn marched up and planted a hand on her hip.
“What did you say about me?” she asked.
“How do you know I was talking about you?” I challenged. “Not everything is about you, Kathryn.”
“You were looking right at me, Ethan. Besides, you’re easy to read. Like a children’s book.”
Jon snorted. His coffee bubbled and he had to wipe his upper lip with the back of his hand. Kathryn and I shot him a look before returning our glares to each other.
“All I was saying is you look like you’re going to a funeral,” I said.
She smiled like a venomous snake. “I didn’t want to show up looking too cheerful. You still haven’t heard from the O’Donnells, have you? I was taking your feelings into consideration, sweetheart. I didn’t want to rub salt in the wound.”
I gritted my teeth. “There’s no wound.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh? So you’re talking about me behind my back because…”
“Because you’re evil.”
Jon held up a hand. “Okay, you two. That’s enough. It’s only amusing for so long before it starts to get embarrassing.”
Kathryn crossed her arms beneath her breasts. The collar of her shirt shifted and I turned to Jon. I wished her head was attached to a much less attractive body so her movements didn’t distract me all the time.
“Kathryn, my dear,” Jon said warmly. “I think it would serve you well to try to get into the spirit of Christmas.”
I arched an eyebrow. “She wouldn’t know the spirit of Christmas if it bit her in the ass.”
Jon massaged his temple. “You know what? We need a tree.”
“Send one of the interns,” I said.
“Don’t they deliver those by now?” Kathryn asked.
Jon pulled his wallet out of his pocket and retrieved a shiny black credit card. He slapped it into my palm. “Go find a tree. A nice tree worthy of this office. Kathryn, you’re going with him.”
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“Hold on,” I said, trying to hand the card back. “Kathryn and I are more likely to burn all the trees to the ground before we can agree on one. Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“I’m sure,” Jon said decisively. “I want a nice tree. One that will make people smile when they see it. For once, I’m asking you two to set your pride aside and work together to do something nice for your colleagues. Can you handle that simple task?”
Kathryn looked at me and then back at him. “Of course, I can handle it.”
“So can I,” I added hastily.
“We’ll see,” Jon said, amusement dancing in his eyes. He stepped toward us and pointed a finger at both our chests. “Now I mean it. I want this done right. If the two of you can’t handle picking out a tree together and being civil to make something nice happen for the people who work in this office, then neither of you have any place in the running to make partner. Am I making myself clear?”
I nodded.
Kathryn chewed the inside of her cheek.
“Something you want to say, Rouche?” Jon asked.
“Are you really using this as an indicator of whether or not we can make partner?” she