Page 16 of His for Christmas
Noah sucked in a breath. “Angel.”
Challenge sparked in Mr. Thompson’s eyes, and I almost thought… he liked when I talked to him this way. Either that or he hated it, and he’d ruin my life and get me thrown back in prison.
“No, I’ve got this,” I said. “I’m not scared of him. All my life people have tried to tell me to sit down and shut up, but guess what? I’m not going to. You’re firing someone who doesn’t deserve it, who’s taking the fall, and if I’m the only one with enough balls to say it to your face, then so be it.”
Both men looked shocked. The tension was as thick as the snowstorm I could see through the window.
“Taking the fall,” Mr. Thompson said quietly.
I took a deep breath—and a gamble. “Are you telling me that Noah was responsible for over a million dollars without a single safeguard in place? Without one other person checking his work? So where are they?”
“Mr. Waters?” Our boss drew out the name in a way that was somehow scarier than when he was yelling.
Noah shifted. “I told you I’m taking responsibility for this, and I am.”
There was a long silence. Finally Mr. Thompson sighed. “I appreciate loyalty. I value it. But your loyalty needs to lie with the company. I need a complete report of what happened on this project. It’s not just about protecting the people around you, especially since they didn’t do the same for you. It’s about making sure this doesn’t happen again.”
After a beat Noah nodded. “I’ll tell you everything. But you need to understand, it was a culmination of mistakes that led to us losing that deal. And some of it was just plain bad luck. But I was the team lead, and I take responsibility for the outcome.”
“Sit,” Mr. Thompson said gruffly. Then he turned to me. His eyes narrowed. “And you. Outside. Now.”
I scurried out of his office. Unfortunately that didn’t provide much protection because Mr. Thompson followed me. Damn it.
Nerves ate me up from the inside like acid all through my body. My heart was pounding. I started babbling. “Look, I’m only here for one more week, but if you want me gone early—”
“Ms. Cole.”
“Just so you know, I’d never even met Noah Waters before today and never plan to again, so it wasn’t anything like flirting or—”
“Angel, listen to me. Part of the reason I was firing Mr. Waters was because I could tell he was holding back information about the project failure. I assumed he was covering his own ass. But we handle large-volume deals all the time. Losses happen. Mistakes happen.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t go around firing my employees right before Christmas for making mistakes.” He paused. “Or for speaking out of turn.”
Relief coursed through me. “Cold but generous,” I murmured.
His eyes darkened. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m a good man, Angel.”
“Too late.” The words came out a whisper.
He reached for me, his hand one inch from my face. I was sure he’d cup my cheek. Sure he’d lean down and kiss me, standing outside his office with Noah Waters waiting inside. And I wouldn’t have turned away. I told him with my eyes just how much I wanted to feel his lips on mine. I didn’t always do the smart thing. Almost never, in fact. I did what felt right, and this felt right. His eyes locked on mine, his hands on me. He felt right.
“You do something to me,” he muttered. “I don’t like it.”
And just like that, a splash of cold regret doused any desire I had. Any hope. I may as well have rolled around in the snow for how I felt as he went into his office and shut the door.
I don’t like it.
Chapter Seven
I closed the last of the files, satisfied that I’d finished my work before leaving. A bittersweet feeling because today was my last day.
It was also Christmas Eve, and most of the building had already left. At seven o’ clock, it felt much later. Snowfall had grown heavier all day. It verged on a storm now, darkening the streets as people rushed to get home with last-minute packages. Lights were on in Mr. Thompson’s office, and I knew he was still there, because he’d come in early this morning—and hadn’t left yet.
I stared at the office door, which was cracked open. In invitation?
That was wishful thinking. I couldn’t see inside, but maybe that was for the best. Even if I went in there, what would I say? He wouldn’t care that I was leaving. For good, this time. I was just an awkward situation he’d be glad to get rid of.
But I cared. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I hated myself for being so transparent. How had I started to fall for my boss when I’d only worked here for two weeks? When the first time we’d met, he’d made me come so hard I couldn’t breathe? When he watched me and listened to me and even flirted with me in that gruff, brutal way of his?
