A Very Bossy Christmas - Kayley Loring Page 0,42

be here tonight.

He said he met her in college, and they were on and off for a decade. A decade. I wonder if he had sex with her in this house. I wonder how much he still thinks about her. All this time I’ve known him, he’s probably been in a bad mood because he was upset about her. I hate that I didn’t know that. Or maybe I hate her for doing this to him. Out of loyalty. Because I’m his assistant. And it’s my job to be loyal to him.

Welp. So much for resisting my boss! As if seeing him dance around naked to a seventies pop song wasn’t enough—watching him with his niece made my ovaries throb, and I don’t know if my “No Sleepovers” rule is going to prevent the rest of me from falling for him. Hopefully he’ll go back to being an insufferable ass when we get back to work. Hopefully I’m only staring at the kitchen table, picturing him eating breakfast in here as a teenager and wondering what kind of cereal he ate because I’m bored. Or maybe he wasn’t as good at sex as I thought he was last night. Maybe I was mistaken. Maybe he’s not as sweet or caring as he seems to be lately. It could all be an act.

Or maybe I’m screwed.

But at least I’m being screwed by a real man for a change. Screwed long and hard and every which way but upside-down. Actually, we may have done an upside-down thing last night too. “Can I help with anything?” I blurt out before I start moaning Declan’s name in front of his mother and grandmother.

They’re in the middle of arguing about how much marinara sauce they’ll need, so my question goes ignored. But when Declan walks in, they both shut up and start grinning. Even his own flesh and blood are not immune to his handsome face.

I can tell immediately that his mood has changed, though.

“Ciao, bella,” he says to his nonna, kissing her on the cheek. “When do we eat? I’m starving. Why do my pants still fit me, huh? What a rip-off.”

“Ciao, bello,” she mumbles. “It’s time,” she announces, still scooping deep-fried calamari into a bowl. “Time for antipasti. Get back out there, uh! Andiamo andiamo!”

It’s not even four o’clock yet, but I guess it’ll take about three hours to eat all of this food.

Declan puts his arm around my shoulders without looking at me. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You ready?” Something tells me he isn’t asking me if I’m ready for dinner.

“As I’ll ever be.”

He pushes the swinging door open, and I walk out to the dining area. There are a bunch of people in the living room all of a sudden, but Declan goes straight to the table and takes a seat with his back to the living room. Hunched over, like a moody teenager. Like the Little Bummer Boy. With Dean Martin singing “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” and all the decorations around him, his gloominess is almost comical. He gestures for me to sit next to him, but when I notice the couple in the corner who are staring at me, I can’t move. That must be Brady and Hannah.

Hannah is a petite blonde who somehow looks stunning, elegant, and adorable in an oversized blouse and overalls with a Santa Mickey appliqued on the front pocket. I don’t know what I was expecting—a Disney witch or a Sophia Loren type—but I wasn’t expecting a midwestern Tinkerbell. She’s all glow-y and smiley. She’s the opposite of me, and I want to hate her, but I can’t. I can’t even hate Brady, who’s a lankier, artsier version of Declan. They’re both touching each other in that gentle, instinctive way that couples do when they’re in love.

I’m starving too, all of a sudden, and it’s not for antipasti.

It’s Eddie who finally introduces me to the people I haven’t met yet. Aiden must be the oldest—handsome and starting to go a little gray around the sideburns. He has a wife and two kids. Casey’s husband looks like a TV high school football coach. This family may be a little loud, but they look like the stock photo of a family that comes with a picture frame. When Eddie introduces me to Brady and Hannah, they look a little tense. Like they’re expecting me to tear them a new one or something.

“Merry Christmas” is all I say. “Congratulations.”

Hannah seems relieved, but Brady says, “Thank you. I’d congratulate you too,