Flown in for Christmas

One.

Joy

“Davis bought those slacks a size too small, wouldn’t you say?” Lisa whispers, jabbing my elbow sharply. She’s the lead from marketing, and quite the lover of office gossip, if I do say.

She’s not wrong. His fitted black suit seems to be tailored a little tighter than usual, but then again, he has been using his private gym a bit more aggressively the last two weeks.

Water cooler gossip says it’s his stress relief during the holidays.

Of which, he hates—the holidays, that is.

A modern Grinch, as they say.

I can attest to witnessing his humbug attitude myself. Between his demands I work late, including weekends—because if he’s here, so should I—to blowing a head gasket when the littlest things don’t go quite his way .

My face heats as I take in the tall, broad frame of our CEO. We stand off to the side as Mr. Davis gives his expected company speech on behalf of Davis Sporting Goods.

“He looks…nice,” I say quietly, subtly rubbing the ache from my elbow.

Lisa snickers over the rim of her eggnog. “Ah, yes, a fine mixture of boy next door meets hunky Cavill.” She sighs wistfully at the very mention of her favorite British actor.

I suppress a laugh as Mr. Davis raises his short glass of amber liquid, addressing the room with a warm, “Here’s to another successful year for Davis Sporting Goods!”

The room breaks out in a resounding cheers , raising their glasses of wine, liquor, and spiked eggnog, while I sip my water.

I’ve got a late flight to catch in just a few hours. I can’t be hammered going through TSA. One good swig of that eggnog and I know I would be. I’m the walking definition of a lightweight.

The crowd disperses to enjoy the rest of the party as Mr. Davis breaks off with his CFO, Richard Hanes. I keep note of my boss’ whereabouts in case he needs anything. I was hired nearly three months ago by the advertising department as a promotions assistant. An extra set of hands to help run the busiest time of the year in retail: the holidays.

Black Friday, Cyber Monday, Christmas Specials. In-store and online doorbuster deals.

We sell anything and everything sports-related that you can imagine—gear, equipment, apparel, memorabilia, footwear. The DSG brand is worn by the greatest in the NFL, NBA, NHL, and MLB.

Even with the holiday rush, someone in HR decided I didn’t have enough to do, and added ‘personal assistant to the CEO’ to my workload, bringing on a massive list of duties on top of it.

Why me? I haven’t the slightest idea.

It’s not like I could say no . He’s the C-E-O. And I’m still working through my ninety-day probationary period. There was no feasible way I could turn it down. I suppose I should be grateful for the opportunity, but…it’s been a crazy few months, to say the least.

I smooth a hand down my shimmery red skirt, adjust the dip of cleavage in my black blouse, and toss my long, brown waves over my shoulder. “Any big holiday plans for you and Joe this year?” I ask Lisa.

She shrugs, her blonde bob bouncing as she sips her glass. “Family crap, you know the drill.” She downs the remainder of her eggnog and I fight back the urge to gag at how thick that drink is and how fast she just did that. She’ll be feeling that tomorrow .

“I’d slow down if I were you,” I tell her. “Whoever made that went heavy on the rum.”

“I know.” She smiles wide. “It was me.”

Of course, it was. We share a laugh, making our way to the buffet catering. The ten-minute alarm I set on my phone goes off in my purse, warning me that I need to start my goodbyes if I want to catch my scheduled cab to the airport .

“You’re spending Christmas with your brother, right?” Lisa asks, watching as I fish my phone out.

“Yep. Spending the whole week with him.” I smile at the thought of it. It’s been years since Emmett and I made plans like this. “I had to book a few connecting flights to get through the holiday chaos, but I’ll get to LAX by tomorrow morning. Fingers crossed.”

She nods absently, glancing over my shoulder. “Don’t look now, but Scrooge the Handsome is on his way.”

I turn and my heel catches on itself, causing me to promptly lose my balance. I sway, nearly taking a tumble when a strong hand grabs my arm, pulling me into a heated, hard chest. An air of a masculine cologne envelopes me and I melt against my rescuer.

“Miss Bell.” His deep baritone rumbles.

My mouth goes dry. Mr. Davis .

I right my feet, clear my throat, and stand stiffly against the heat radiating between us. I look up, internally scolding myself for picking my higher black heels as Mr. Davis’ dark, sultry gaze meets mine. Dammit. “Sorry, I must have misstepped,” I push out, plastering on a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Mr. Davis grunts, releasing my arm. His dark chestnut hair is styled tight in a slicked-back look and pairs nicely with his strong, ticking jaw covered in a dusting of a five o’clock shadow. He gazes down at me from his towering six-foot-three—and I feel a tense crick in my neck staring at him from this angle.

It’s been a while since I’ve been this close to him. The last week he had been stuck in his office going over end-of-the-year reports. It’s not surprising a man like Mr. Davis hit that billion-dollar mark rather quickly when he took the reins. He’s a man who tolerates zero runaround from anyone and commands the space and people who surround him.

He was a tight end in college—or so I’ve heard.

Ha. Tight end .

“I need you to send Hanes those promotion sale reports you updated this morning,” he tells me. Molten chocolate eyes sear into me.

“Oh, yes, of course,” I say. “I can take care of that now.” Quickly turning to Lisa, I add, “I’ll see you…next year.” I laugh at my lame joke.

Lisa snort-chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, god, Joy. Don’t, please.” She waves me off. “I’ll call you. Fly safe.”

I smile, scurrying toward the door when a weighted presence looms behind me. Glancing over my shoulder as I gather my coat from my seat and head for the door. Mr. Davis follows. “You don’t need—”

He huffs, cutting me off to reach ahead and open the door to exit the banquet hall. I walk to the elevators with Mr. Davis at my side. We’re alone as we step into the elevator. We rarely are. I mean, we’ve been working together for months but never quite so…alone. I hit the button for the top floor.

The silence between us is loud, but not as uncomfortable as I would’ve expected it to be. I’d imagine everyone working retail, whether that’s in the company offices or in-store, is burnt out this year.

“Where are you flying?” he asks.

The question catches me so off guard it takes a moment to register he’s talking to me. I don’t think he’s ever asked me a question that didn’t pertain to work.

“Oh, um, California,” I reply, shifting on my heels. “LA to be specific.”

He nods. Not bothering to ask me who’s in California or what my holiday plans are. I feel a little sad he doesn’t, though I shouldn’t. “Do you have any exciting plans for the holiday break?”

The elevator dings as we reach the top floor at the same time he replies, “Going to see family.”

I smile at that, walking beside him until we reach my desk outside his office. “That’s nice.”

He strides past me without another word.

It takes me a few minutes to boot up my desktop and send the requested reports to Mr. Hanes. Once I’m done, I shut down and tug on my coat before I peek into his office from the open doorway. “Do you need anything else before I head out, sir?”

He’s seated behind his desk, his chair turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows to gaze out over busy downtown Dallas. He has his cell phone in hand, tapping it on his bristled chin, seeming lost in his thoughts. “No.”

I bite my lip. He looks so…sad?

Sad and handsome and I wish, just for a moment, that he’d open up and tell me what’s bothering him. He works so hard; he should be enjoying all he has accomplished.

“Well, if you need me, don’t hesitate to call,” I say, pausing for a beat. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Davis.”

He doesn’t reply. Nor spare me a second glance as I sigh to myself and walk away to enjoy my hard-earned, two-week—ten-business-day—vacation.

Sand in my toes , I think to myself.

That’s what I need this Christmas.