Page 30 of Naughty Heart

“What about you?” he asked.

“Pardon?”

“What was Christmas like for you as a kid?” he clarified.

Something squeezed in the center of my chest as I rasped, “It was the best time of my life.”

Malcolm couldn’t miss the change in my tone. He quietly assessed me, clearly trying to discern whether it was safe to press for more information.

Instead of making it awkward for him, I revealed, “Christmas was great as a kid. My parents didn’t have a lot of money, but I never went without. It always felt special. Sadly, my parents died just a few months after I turned eighteen, and I’ve been on my own ever since.”

“Wow, Evelyn. I’m so sorry. What about siblings? Extended family? Grandparents?”

I sent a reassuring smile his way. I didn’t want him to think I was going to have a total meltdown. “Thanks. I’m an only child, just like my parents. My mom is actually from upstate New York. Her mom died when she was very young, so I never knew her. I visited my grandfather a couple of times growing up, but I was never close with him. He passed about two years after my parents did. And both of my dad’s parents died three years before my parents did, within six months of each other.”

The silence stretched between us for a few seconds, and I started to wonder if I’d shared too much. But eventually, Malcolm filled the silence with another question. “If you don’t mind me asking, how have you been spending Christmas for the last five years, then?”

“Well, before my last job terminated me, along with all of my coworkers, we used to do a secret Santa,” I told him. “I loved doing that. We’d set a dollar amount for the gift, everyone would have someone they had to buy something for, and we’d exchange the gifts on the last day of work before the Christmas break. Everyone looked forward to it, and we all had Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off.”

His lips twitched. “You really do know how to liven up the workplace, don’t you?”

“That’s me… the life of the party,” I joked.

Malcolm chuckled. “What do you plan to do with your days off now? Because we close the office for longer than that. We work until the 23rd, and we don’t return until after New Year’s Day.”

God, I couldn’t imagine what I’d do with all of that time. “I’m not sure yet. That’s far more time off than I’m accustomed to.”

“But you’ll spend the holiday itself with your boyfriend, right?” he asked.

At that question, my body locked.

Why was Malcolm asking about my boyfriend? Why was he assuming I had one? Maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe he was trying to find out in a more indirect way if a boyfriend even existed.

Shaking my head, I revealed, “I might have done that this year had I not gone home from work sick one day about four months ago to find my boyfriend having sex with the girl he’d been cheating on me with for about a year.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. Not at all.”

Malcolm studied me a long time, and this time, I didn’t look away. I held his gaze up until the point he spoke. “Well, that guy was clearly an idiot.”

I didn’t think Malcolm said what he did to indicate I was a fool for choosing the guy I had. Clearly, he believed my ex was all to blame. But to say he thought my ex was an idiot implied something else to me.

Did Malcolm think I was a catch?

Maybe on the surface, given he didn’t really know much about me, it seemed possible. But if he ever learned the truth about how horrible my situation was, he’d probably be repulsed.

It made sense that I’d feel at least a mild attraction to Malcolm. He was exceptionally handsome, generous, and compassionate. He had a lot to offer a relationship.

To think he could have felt any sort of attraction to me was unbelievable.

But there was something there. I could tell, because he still hadn’t looked away from me. And the look in his eyes was alluring, like he had some secret he couldn’t share but wanted me to uncover.

Maybe he was attracted to me.

Before I could pull myself together enough to be able to respond to his assessment of my idiot ex-boyfriend, movement out of the corner of my eye pulled my attention from him.

“Mom? Dad?” Malcolm said as he stood from his desk. “How was the conference?”