Chapter 10
THAT EVENING, THERE’S a gentle knock on my hotel room door. I look up. I just got into my comfy pants and I’m curled up in the loveseat by the window. I swapped my contacts for glasses. Sliding them a bit higher on my nose, I set my book aside and shuffle over to the door.
Val is standing in my doorway, snowflakes clinging to his hair and black coat.
He unabashedly takes in the sight of me, letting his gaze glide from my slippered feet along my ratty sweatpants—including a recently acquired hole—up to my fuzzy sweater, and finally reaching the messy bun on top of my head.
As I stand in front of him with a steaming cup of tea in my hands, a subtle, sexy smile appears on his face.
What are the odds you’re willing to put on some real clothes and come out for dinner with me? he asks in an amused tone.
I glance down at my watch. It’s already seven and I was honestly planning to order some room-service pizza. I give him a hesitant look.
I’m buying, he adds.
With a satisfied nod, I put my cup down on a nearby table. Just a second, I yell out over my shoulder as I sprint toward the bathroom.
We’re dining at a cozy little restaurant not too far from Big Ben.
Val twists his spaghetti Bolognese onto a fork and I watch him slurp one of the noodles until it disappears between his lips.
As I tuck a bite of truffle risotto into my mouth, I have to stop myself from moaning out loud.
It has the exact right amount of parmesan and I can feel the rich butter melting on my tongue.
Val gives me an eager look. Do you like it? he wonders, just as I’m raising a generous spoonful to my mouth.
Oh, it’s amazing. Want to give it a taste? I give him an inquisitive look and, without thinking, redirect my spoon toward his mouth instead.
He hesitates for a moment with a contemplative expression on his face, then grabs the silverware and takes a bite. Eyes closed, he lets out a satisfied groan. Wow, I think I might have ordered the wrong thing, he says, before returning to twirling his fork in his plate of pasta.
In the middle of my next spoonful of risotto, I realize that my boss and I just shared saliva.
What did you think of the store? Did Matthew give you the grand tour? Val asks, curiosity in his voice.
It’s gorgeous, I tell him, taking a sip of wine. Oh, and the chocolate’s delicious. The best I’ve ever had, actually, which is really saying something.
A corner of his mouth quirks up. Hmm. Good thing your Christmas gift basket had so much chocolate in it this year, I guess.
What do you mean my Christmas gift basket? Doesn’t everyone get the same thing? I ask, a little surprised.
I suppose they were somewhat personalized, he says with a shrug.
Our server appears, flashing Val a gleaming smile before asking if we’d like anything else to drink. Our glasses are still full to the brim, but that hasn’t stopped her from inquiring about our hydration needs every five minutes or so.
No thank you, Val replies.
If there’s anything else you need—anything at all . . . She touches his arm briefly, then gestures toward the bar. I’ll just be right over there.
Understood, Val says, staring at her hand as if it were acid burning a hole in his favourite suit.
She misses his obvious hint, flipping her dark brown hair over her shoulder as she seductively flutters her lashes at him.
Actually, Val . . . I finish work in an hour . . .
Okay, now I’m annoyed. Where does she get off acting like this? How would she know Val isn’t my boyfriend and—wait. I let my gaze shift from the waitress to Val and back. Did she just call him by his first name?
I was wondering if you’d like to meet up for a drink, she says, gliding her tongue across her upper lip. We had such fun together last time. She trails a finger along his sleeve.
I look him in the eye. Last time? I whisper in surprise.
He seems puzzled for a moment, but then a flicker of recognition passes over his face. He shoots me an apologetic smile.
Riiight. It’s all coming back to me now. Olivia, right? he says, turning his gaze to her.
The expression on her face is all too familiar. It’s the same look I must have had as a kid when I realized that Dutch holiday hero Sinterklaas—our bearded buddy Saint Nick—wore the exact same shoes as my dad. I quickly figured out it wasn’t because they shopped at the same shoe store.
She quickly removes her hand from his arm. I’m sorry, did you forget about me? She sounds profoundly insulted as her eyes spark with rage.
Val shifts in his seat, accidentally kicking me in the shin.
To be fair, that must have been a year and a half ago, he blurts out. His hand darts up to his face, as if he’s trying to shove the words back into his mouth.
I squeeze my eyes shut with a resigned shake of my head as Olivia grabs for his wine glass.
Wrong answer, Val.
I hope you can get that stain out of your suit, I say. We’re walking along the Thames, heading back to the hotel. The layer of snow covering the pavement grows thicker by the minute as the icy crystals sparkle in the glow of the street lights.
I’ve learned over time that red wine stains are often here to stay, Val replies, tightening his scarf around his neck.
Jesus, it’s freezing, I whine, furiously rubbing my ears. I feel like they’re about to fall off.
You can borrow my hat, if you’d like. My ears are doing just fine for now, he says, pulling the hat from his head and handing it over to me.
I gratefully tug the warm wool down over my ears as a full body shiver snaps through me. Looking up at the sky, Val pulls his scarf a little closer to his face.
I think we’re expecting more snow overnight, he mentions. Good thing our hotel is so close to work.
Val, there’s something I have to tell you.
He glances my way with a guarded look in his eyes. Nothing good ever comes after that intro. You’re not quitting, are you? We can talk about your salary or maybe some kind of promotion. There’s really no reason to just up and leave, and—
Val, I say, cutting him off. That’s not it at all. It is good to know I have options, though. Let’s especially keep that potential promotion in our back pocket—I think it would make a great topic for our next conversation.
He raises an eyebrow as he narrows his eyes. I walked right into that one, didn’t I? he says, shaking his head. Anyway, what were you actually trying to tell me?
Okay, so, aside from our tour through the Wouters store, Matthew also took me over to Winthrops.
Okay . . . He pauses. Wait. Is that it? It hardly constitutes cheating to go check out a different department store, Hannah, he says, chuckling at his own joke. I roll my eyes. I’d say it’s pretty normal to want to know what the competition is up to.
I sigh. As I was saying, when we got to Winthrops, we noticed this crowd of people gathered around some kind of attraction inside the store.
When we got closer, we realized it was the love letter wall I proposed in the board meeting.
I exhale and my breath creates a little cloud of condensation in the air. So, I think—
Stopping dead in his tracks, Val grabs me by the arm and I turn toward him, an inquisitive look on my face. There’s concern in his eyes and his lips are pressed into a straight line.
What do you mean? he asks, sounding like he’d really prefer not to find out the answer.
I checked Instagram and the posts about the wall only started popping up yesterday. Someone must have passed the idea along to Winthrops—I think we might be dealing with a double agent.
The furrow on his brow deepens. That would explain a lot, he mumbles, rubbing his face. Shit. He drops his hands to his sides, snowflakes melting on his cheeks as he stares up at the sky.
Any idea who it might be? I ask cautiously.
It could be anyone, really, he replies, shaking his head, then squeezing his hands into fists.
It would make the most sense for it to be someone who voted against your idea because they were planning to pass it along to Winthrops.
That said, we did vote on Robin’s concept first, so the culprit might have tried to bypass suspicion by casting a vote in favour of your proposal.
They knew we would find out about the Winthrops wall on social either way.
The snow is really coming down now and I can barely see a thing.
I pull Val’s hat down a little further, then shove my hands into my coat pockets.
My pumps are useless on the slippery surface below.
I hate heels. Sure, they look classy, but whoever decided that women would look better with ankle-breaking contraptions strapped to their feet probably never had to wear them.
Unfortunately, the options are limited when you’re operating within a business-chic dress code.
I suppose there’s always the possibility that it was a total coincidence or an unfortunate mistake—watch out! Val shouts.
As my foot slips out from under me, I let out a shriek and suddenly the whole world is spinning.
But before my ass reaches the ice cold ground, Val grabs me by the waist with two strong hands.
His fingers sink into my skin through the thick fabric of my coat as a shiver jolts through my body.
His face is so close to mine now, our noses nearly touching.
There’s a look of shock in his wide eyes as I feel the rush of his breath on my face.
And then his stunned expression slowly makes way for something else.
His breath grows rapid and I watch his lips part as he inches his face closer to mine.
The dark green speckles in his eyes are clearer than ever.
My heart is beating out of control, nearly pounding my ribs out of place.
I wet my lips, slowly moving them closer to his.
And then, just as I’m about to bridge the gap between us, he squeezes his eyes shut, giving his head a little shake.
Slowly, he pulls us upright and lets out a shaky sigh.
Are you okay? he finally asks.
Bit by bit, it begins to sink in that I was just millimetres away from kissing Val.
The startled feeling of my almost-fall is nothing compared to the confusion I feel now.
Just a few weeks ago, I would have put this kind of interaction on the same level as a dental procedure without anesthesia.
Where the hell did that come from? I swallow hard.
Um, yeah, I think I’m okay. Thank you, I reply, wiping some snow from my face.
During our walk back to the hotel, I keep sneaking stealthy glances at Val. The skin around his jaw seems tight and his gaze is focused straight ahead, like he’s fighting the urge to look over at me.
By the time we’re standing in the elevator, the tension between us is so palpable, the slightest shift could cause it to snap.
When Val reaches over to hit the button for our floor, his arm brushes mine and I stiffen.
He stares intently at the numbers indicating each floor on our way up and when the doors finally slide open, he practically sprints toward his hotel room.
He fumbles his key card around near the doorknob, like a drunk person trying to shove a tangle of yarn through the eye of a needle.
Sleep tight, Val, I say, stepping into my room.
He glances up at me, his pupils noticeably wide. Goodnight, Hannah.
I step inside, closing the door behind me, then flop back onto the bed with my arms spread wide. Laying there, I analyze the evening’s events.
I almost kissed Val. My boss. That last part alone makes the whole thing an incredibly awful idea.
Good thing nothing actually happened. I can’t imagine how awkward it would be to work together after something like that—not to mention what could happen if anyone ever found out.
Every promotion, every raise, it would all be under intense scrutiny.
Every business trip, every work lunch would be seen as a sexy getaway or a lunchtime boink on company time—which would put me squarely in a very different line of business.
I grab one of the pillows and press it down over my face before screaming into it at the top of my lungs. Tossing it aside again, I hoist myself upright, and take off my coat. Which is when I realize I’m still wearing Val’s hat.
I stare down at the expensive wool for a moment, then get up from the bed, and decide I have to return it.
Outside his room, I hesitate for a beat, then land my fist on the dark wood of the door. All I can hear are muffled noises from inside the room until suddenly the door swings open.
My mouth goes dry. This was such a terrible idea.
All he’s wearing is a pair of pyjama pants.
They’re riding low on his hips, treating me to a front-row view of his outstanding form.
He obviously spends time at the gym: the outline of his six pack is clearly defined on his tanned torso and that coveted V-shape disappears into his waistband.
His arms are sculpted and his pecs pop up as he lifts an arm to lean into the door frame.
I notice his hair is still wet from the shower and when my gaze finally lands on his face, I’m staring directly into his puzzled eyes.
Hat, I manage to squeeze out.
He scrunches up his eyebrows. Sorry?
I clear my throat. I still have your hat, I clarify, lifting his favourite wintertime accessory up to eye level. I thought you’d want to have it back for tomorrow.
He looks surprised as he takes the hat from me. Um, thanks. You could have kept it till the morning, though. No need to go out of your way.
Oh, it was no trouble, really. We are neighbours, after all, I remind him.
I bounce up and down a little. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m jabbering like a toddler with a speech delay. And I’m still just standing here outside his door. And I’m still not attempting to leave. And he’s still not wearing a shirt. This is so inconvenient.
Right. I’m off to bed then, I finally say, sneaking one last peek at his flat stomach. Night.
I can feel Val’s gaze boring into me as I walk back to my room and pull the door shut behind me.