Page 1 of Mistletoe Mistake
~Gemma~
The insistent knocking at my office door pulled me out of my concentration so abruptly that I jumped in surprise. Time had slipped away while I'd been bent over my blueprints, and as I raised my head, I realized that the sky outside my London office had turned completely dark. Damn it. Just how late was it?
“Come in,” I called out as I quickly rolled up the papers I'd been working on.
The door swung open to reveal the disapproving face of my colleague and best friend, Holly. Her blonde hair had already been swept up in an elegant up-do and her makeup looked flawless, as usual.
“I knew it!” she declared, her voice full of disapproval. “You haven't even started getting ready yet.”
“I'm sorry, Hols. What time is it?”
“Time to go enjoy ourselves and forget about all of this.” She spread her hands to include the whole of my office in ‘this’: the table I used for meetings with clients, the desk with my computer for paperwork, and the drafting table where I had been working now. “Open bar, Gemma. The clock is ticking.”
With a laugh at her enthusiasm, I stretched my arms up over my head, rolled my neck to get the kinks out, and resisted the urge to remind her that I would be the one paying for the open bar in the end. As the owner of the company, I’d be footing the bill for the whole party.
“I am all in on the open bar tonight,” I promised her instead. “I've got my dress and makeup in my bag, so let's go get changed.”
That night, we were holding our annual Christmas party and traditionally, it had always been a night to remember. Or tonotremember, depending on just how much we decided to drink, and after the year I'd had, no one would blame me if I overindulged just a little.
“So, about the dress...” Holly started, and my eyes narrowed suspiciously. The mischievous look on her face was a dead giveaway that she had something up her sleeve. “I thought we could try something different tonight.”
“We?” I repeated, crossing my arms skeptically. “Or me?”
Holly had a history of trying to push me out of my comfort zone, especially when she thought I needed a pick-me-up.
“Both of us,” she assured me. “It’s just a little something to get us in the Christmas spirit. I’ve got everything we need in my bag, so let's go to the hotel and get ready there.”
Since we were hosting the party at a nearby hotel, Holly and I had decided to get a room for the weekend. We had another event to attend tomorrow, and having the room would not only save us from having to go home in between, but also from having to walk from our office to the party in our high heels right now.
Knowing that arguing with her would be pointless until I saw what she had planned, I locked up the office behind us as we headed out into the early December night. Everyone else had already left since we'd given them the afternoon off before the party. Although my year had personally been a disaster, it couldn't have gone better for the company. We deserved to celebrate and that evening, I intended to do just that.
The walk from our small office in St James's over to the sleek hotel near Leicester Square didn’t take very long, even with dodging all the other people out on the pavements. The Christmas lights twinkled above us, the air just chilly enough for scarves and mittens, and Christmas carols drifted out of the stores we walked past, already staying open late to welcome the holiday shoppers. I loved this time of year, or at least I always had, before this year. The thought of what should be happening this Christmas threatened to dampen my spirits, but I refused to give into the temptation. For one night, we were going to forget everything else and simply have some fun. ‘Christmas fun’, by the sounds of what Holly had said earlier, though she still hadn’t told me exactly what she meant by that.
The hotel lobby buzzed with guests coming and going as we checked in, and as soon as we got to our room, Holly produced a bottle of champagne from the room’s mini-fridge that she must have ordered to be waiting for us. With a satisfied grin, she held it up to me. "Shall we?"
“There's an open bar downstairs,” I reminded her, though I couldn't help smiling at her infectious enthusiasm as I claimed one of the double beds for myself. The clean, modern style of the hotel room with its monochrome colours and abstract art on the walls felt rather bland despite the upscale furnishings, and I couldn’t help comparing it in my head to our most recent project. No one would be using the word ‘bland’ to describethathotel once they got a look at it.
“This is just a starter.” Popping the cork like an expert, Holly poured out two glasses, offering one to me as she held hers up for a toast. “To Christmas and booze and finding a hot guy to snog on New Year's Eve!”
“I’ll drink to that.” The bubbles from the champagne tingled in the back of my throat as I took a large gulp, ready to get the alcohol into my system as soon as possible. At this rate, we’d both have a buzz going in no time. “Now, what's this about my dress?”
With a sparkle in her blue eyes, Holly threw open her small suitcase and pulled out two matching bright-red Santa dresses with short skirts and off-the-shoulder necklines, faux fur trim and a cinching black belt.
I burst out laughing in disbelief, nearly sending the champagne back out through my nose. "You can't seriously expect me to wear that?"
My laughter earned me a pout. “Oh, come on, Gem. This is our one party of the year that's just our staff. Every other party, we can wear proper dresses and be grown up and boring. Tonight, let's just be stupid and have some fun.”
She did make a very good point. The upcoming Christmas season would be filled with dull client parties where we'd have to stand around in sparkly gowns all night, making small talk with rich business owners and our competitors. At our own party, on the other hand, we could do whatever the hell we wanted. There were some perks of working for ourselves.
Draining the last of my champagne, I gave in. “You know what? Let's do it. Sexy Santa, here we come!”
~Cole~
As soon as I entered the hotel lobby, my friend and right-hand-man, Jackson, leapt to his feet from a nearby sofa and headed over. He'd obviously been waiting for me.
“How did things go?” he asked as he fell into step beside me.
Not wanting to be overheard, I waited until we were in the elevator to answer him bluntly. “They're awful. Fucking terrible. We've waited three months for the designs and we can't even use them.”
