7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
The kitten’s supplies arrived at Harris’s doorstep not long after he got home, which Harris greatly appreciated. He’d given Gigi his credit card and told her to buy whatever she saw fit. The supplies could go with the kitten to his new home or be donated to a shelter, and Gigi had done a great job. She’d gotten all the necessities without going overboard. When Gigi had returned Harris’s credit card, she’d given him a breakdown of all the supplies, as well as tips to get the kitten comfortable at home. She was very knowledgeable and thoughtful. Now, Harris had the wire kennel setup in his bedroom, complete with a fuzzy bed, toys, food and water dishes, and a litter box.
“Put him in the kennel when you aren’t home,” Gigi had said. “It will make him feel safe. Plus, I have a feeling he’s going to be worn out from today. He’ll probably sleep the whole time you’re at the gift guide event. And leave a light on for him so he can check out his surroundings.”
Harris clicked on the lamp next to his bed before bending down toward the kennel. “I’ll only be gone for a few hours, okay?” The kitten blinked up at him from the fluffy cat bed he’d curled into. He was trying hard to keep his eyes open, and Harris smiled, knowing his little belly was full of organic, grain-free paté. He was safe, warm, and sleepy. “I’ll be back tonight. I just have a work event to go to.” Harris paused, laughing at himself. He was telling this kitten about his schedule. But it was kind of nice to have someone to report to.
After shoveling some takeout leftovers into his mouth, Harris threw on his jacket and hit the streets, toward the Four Seasons. The hotel wasn’t far from his brownstone. Maybe a fifteen-minute walk. He’d be right on time, according to the information Gigi had put in her email. As he walked the frosty sidewalks, Harris smirked, thinking of the signature she’d apologized for.
If you have any questions, ask someone else.
If he’d read that without her explanation, Harris would’ve likely gotten annoyed and written her up. Instead, he’d chuckled. How many times had he wanted to respond to an email with his honest thoughts? Put someone in their place without the use of corporate jargon? It happened daily. Actually, Gigi’s idea to type what she really wanted to say—just to get it off her chest—was genius, as long as the email was corrected before being sent. Harris might have to try that himself. It could lift stress from his day. Not to mention, it would be very entertaining.
Navigating the hotel lobby, Harris followed signs to the ballroom, though he knew where he was going. The reception for his dad’s third marriage had been at the Four Seasons. He specifically remembered his dad’s new wife going on and on about how the peach roses in her extravagant centerpieces clashed with the silver tablecloths. Harris didn’t know what she was talking about. Did peach clash with silver? But she’d complained enough that the hotel staff had switched out all the table clothes to a mute gold a half hour before the reception.
Harris hadn’t been back to the hotel since and wasn’t necessarily in the mood for a stuffy event tonight. So, when he stepped into the ballroom, he huffed a laugh.
The high ceiling with intricate molding was the same, framed by tall windows and rich burgundy drapes. But Christmas chaos muted the formality of the room. It had possibly been the first time in years that Christmas had made Harris smile.
Life-size, colorful wooden cutouts of Santa, snowmen, reindeer, and trees lined the edges of the ballroom. Long tables filled the center, each covered in red plastic and topped with bowls of candy. Spiced ginger filled the air, and the crowd in the hallway was filtering in, picking up packets at the entrance and claiming seats. Harris spotted Gigi and walked toward her. She was putting the finishing touches on the SheTime product display in the sponsored area. Even though her back was turned to him, she couldn’t be missed. Over dark jeans, Gigi sported a baby-pink silk robe and matching fuzzy slippers. When she turned toward him, Harris eyed the sleep mask, which was pulled up on her forehead. It had the SheTime logo and the words Hello, Gorgeous embroidered on it.
Harris stopped before her, considering how passionate she was about her job. Gigi seemed more invested in the business than he’d ever been, even though his last name made up the entirety of Ryan & Ryan.
“Just finishing up here,” Gigi said, setting down a stack of brochures.
“It looks great,” Harris replied. The holiday gift sets were displayed amongst white-flocked Christmas trees decorated with shiny pink ornaments. Fake snow covered the table.
Gigi squinted her eyes, shooting him a tentative look. “Was that a compliment?”
“It was.”
She shrugged before grinning. “I’ll take it.” Turning toward the ballroom entrance, Gigi pointed toward the miniature store setup, which contained an array of products supplied by the event sponsors. There was already a line to the cashier. “We delivered a pallet of product this time, but if we run out, I put a QR code on these brochures so customers can just scan them with their phones. It’ll take them directly to our website to purchase.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all handled.”
She sighed. “I hope so.”
“And we’re going to be building a gingerbread house?”
“Yep. At the table closest to the store, with the rest of the sponsors.” She glanced at her watch. “We start in ten minutes. We’ll have a half hour to build our gingerbread spa and then all the houses created by the sponsors will be displayed for the rest of the night. The public can vote for their favorite.”
He slid a hand into his coat pocket. “The favorite gets to donate to a charity, again?”
“Look at you.” She put fists on her hips, scrunching her robe and drawing Harris’s attention to her hourglass shape. “You catch on fast.”
He broke his stare, chasing away indecent thoughts, and looked toward the sponsored table, which was filling up. “We should get over there. You said you brought me a robe?”
“I did.” Gigi dipped down and retrieved a tote bag from underneath the table. “I picked out a navy one for you. Figured it would complement your serious business-man vibes.” She pulled a robe from the bag, a sarcastic glint in her eyes.
Harris removed his winter jacket. “That’s much better than a reindeer sweater,” he replied, accepting the robe. Gigi took his jacket, folded it up, and tucked it under the table.
“I’ve got slippers too.” As she half disappeared under the tablecloth, searching for the rest of his outfit, Harris slid the robe over his gray Henley. It was tight over his arms and across his shoulders, but he adjusted and tugged it into place, hoping it wouldn’t rip.
Gigi crawled out from under the table, setting a pair of plush navy slippers before him. When she looked up, she froze, still crouched on the carpet.
“What?” he asked. “Did I rip a seam?”
Gigi chuckled and stood. “I grabbed the biggest size we had, but the robe looks more like a blazer on you.”
He looked down at the silky hem hitting just below his hip. “Perfect fit,” he deadpanned. Gigi laughed with genuine amusement, and for a moment, their gazes locked. Something had shifted between them this afternoon. Maybe the kitten had lessened the friction? Harris could still picture the way Gigi had swooped in, immediately going soft at the sight of the stray animal and wanting to do everything she could to help him.
He smiled. The usual tightness in his chest eased.
“It’s a little snug,” he admitted.
Gigi stepped close and tugged at the lapel with both hands. As she did, her fingers rolled over his chest. “These robes weren’t meant for big, strong men.”
He swallowed, noting how her fingers had lingered for a second longer than necessary. Furthermore, he noted how he’d enjoyed that extra second.
“Tomorrow, I’ll order you a men’s XL tall, just in case we use these robes for other events.” Gigi gave him a friendly pat on the chest before stepping back.
“I’ll manage.” He cleared his throat. “As long as the slippers don’t cut off circulation to my toes.”
“You should be good there. I grabbed a size bigger than what Dean wears.”
Harris removed his boots and slid into the slippers. The cozy fleece surrounded his socked feet, and he gave Gigi a thumbs-up. “They fit.”
“Good. Nothing worse than uncomfortable shoes.” She handed him a sleep mask embroidered with the words Sleeping Beauty . He grinned and anchored it on his forehead, just like Gigi’s mask.
Dressed for bedtime, they walked toward the sponsored table and prepped their area. As they did, Gigi explained her grand vision for a gingerbread spa, complete with candy cane lounge chairs and licorice pool noodles. Her animated descriptions entertained Harris, and to his surprise, he even made a few suggestions of his own. Her excitement peaked when he suggested adding a gumdrop hot tub. When the timed event started, they moved into an easy rhythm, since they’d already agreed on their individual tasks, and as they constructed their creation, light conversation flowed.
“You got everything you need for the kitten?” Gigi asked, piping royal icing onto the outer edge of one gingerbread wall. “The pet shop said to call if you need anything else.”
Harris nodded. “He’s all set. Settled in quickly at the house and was asleep when I left. Thanks for rounding up all his supplies.”
“No problem. It was fun to do some kitty shopping.” Gigi’s chocolate eyes glimmered. She popped a peppermint in her mouth and rolled it around. “I can’t wait to see him tomorrow at the office. Have you named him yet?”
Harris looked up from where he’d been intently adjusting the candy cane armrest of a lounge chair. “I wasn’t going to name him.”
“What? Why not?”
“I don’t want—” Harris paused. A flicker of vulnerability pulsed through him. He brushed it off. “I don’t want him to get confused when he goes to his new home, and they re-name him.” It was one thing to house the kitten and keep him safe. It was another to give him a name. Harris wouldn’t get attached. Getting attached to anything or anyone was bound to end in heartache. He’d lost enough people in his life to know.
“We can’t just call him kitten.” Gigi furrowed her brow, looking appalled by Harris’s suggestion.
He grabbed a handful of gumdrops from one of the candy bowls and assessed the color options in the palm of his hand, delaying his response. When he finally picked a purple candy, he replied with, “How about you name him?”
Gigi’s eyes widened. She stopped piping. “Really?”
“Yes. You name him. Otherwise, I’m going to keep calling him ‘kitten.’ Besides, you’re the one with the marketing background. You’ll be much more creative than me.”
Gigi’s mouth gaped. A little dollop of icing dropped from her pipette. “I’d love to!” She went back to drawing frosting shingles on the roof, energized by her new task. A bright smile captured her face, pushing warmth through Harris’s chest, and for the next ten minutes, Gigi led the conversation, rattling off name ideas. Garfield. Tank. Rufus. Archie. Cookie. Lovebug. Harris didn’t shoot down a single name. He just listened and nodded as Gigi justified and then dismissed each option.
“Oh! I’ve got it!” She gasped, setting down the frosting bag. Harris situated the last gumdrop on the edge of the hot tub. “Rudolph!”
He squinted at that one. “Rudolph?”
“Yes, it’s perfect!” She ripped off a piece of licorice and threw it in her mouth. “You found him just before Christmas. He’s a bit of a misfit since he was a stray. Plus, I know he’s going to blossom into the most special kitten. He’d be a perfect Rudolph.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, his initial reaction wavering. He liked the meaning behind the name.
“Plus, we can call him Rudy.”
Plastic crinkled as Harris unwrapped a peppermint. He enjoyed Gigi’s awaiting stare as he did. “I like it,” he conceded.
“Rudy, it is.” Gigi shrugged her shoulders in delight. “Rudy, the cutie.”
He chuckled and Gigi bent forward, angling the frosting bag at the front of the gingerbread masterpiece. She started making the sign, determination clear in her features as she spelled out The Sweet Spa. Harris watched, admiring the effort she was putting into the task at hand. He was also somewhat stunned that this woman had gotten him to enjoy a Christmas activity and to like the name she’d given his temporary kitten. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually enjoyed a little holiday cheer.
Harris leaned back in his chair, watching her create. “You’re really good at this.” He tapped the sticky peppermint between his thumb and forefinger.
Gigi glanced over, a pleased smile on her face. “It’s all about the details, right?”
“Right.” He couldn’t agree more. Which caught him off guard because he’d spent the last few days criticizing all the details Gigi was getting wrong with SheTime. Was he overlooking what she brought to the company? “Dean said you started at Ryan & Ryan as a product manager for the men’s bar soap line?” he prompted, wanting to learn more about her.
She kept her eyes on her task. “I did. That was a little over seven years ago. It was my foot in the door, and I was grateful for the opportunity, because I really wanted to work at Ryan & Ryan. I’d been working as a marketing associate for a small company, but there wasn’t much room to grow there. But once I started at Ryan & Ryan, I knew pretty quickly it wasn’t the position I wanted forever. There’s only so much room for creativity in that space. It’s mostly centered on making a good product for the lowest cost.” She gave him a quick glance, seeming to acknowledge the extensive conversations they’d had that morning about expense reductions. “While I was managing the bar soap line, I started writing down all the ideas I was getting for women’s beauty products. Stuff I’d buy as a consumer. Those notes morphed into a business plan, and one night, a couple of glasses of wine gave me a boost of courage. I sent the business plan to your brother. He liked it and offered me a product manager position once the new division was formed. The next year, I started as the marketing director.”
Harris raised a brow and caught her eye. “You created the business plan for SheTime?” Dean hadn’t mentioned that seemingly important piece to Harris.
“I actually enjoy data when I can put it to good use.” She gave a crooked grin. “My market analysis helped me find a niche in the industry and an area the company could thrive in.” She swooped the cursive frosting at the end of the spa sign and eased back to access her work, poking her tongue out as she did. Harris was so focused on Gigi that he jerked when she twisted toward him.
“You were definitely keeping a secret from me,” she said, her stare turning serious.
“I—” Harris’s heart bounded, caught off guard. Had Dean told Gigi that Harris had suggested dissolving SheTime and moving the team to other positions within Ryan & Ryan? Was she concerned about getting thrown back into a world of boring bar soap? Or losing her job?
“You’ve been hiding your secret talent for gingerbread architecture.” She smirked. “I mean, look at the masterpiece we created.” She waved her hand at the structure proudly.
Harris smiled, covering the anxiety that had hit him. Could he look Gigi in the eye with a clear conscience once he convinced his father and brother that dissolving SheTime was best for the company? “No hidden talent here. I was just following your lead.” He tipped forward and added the peppermint to the middle of the wreath on the door.
“I disagree.” Gigi shot him a wink and a sidelong glance. “You’re definitely keeping secrets.”
Harris forced his smile to stay in place as guilt stirred in his gut. He tossed a gumdrop in his mouth, chewing the candy like the sticky truth. This was exactly why he maintained a strict boundary between personal and professional matters. Now he was second-guessing business decisions he’d made with cold, hard facts.
He swallowed the gumdrop. Gigi was a complication he couldn’t afford. So why couldn’t he resist being pulled into her orbit?