She dropped her beach bag on the kitchen floor and went straight to the refrigerator. Why hadn’t she stopped for a sandwich on the way home? Being stuck on the beach with Brant had thrown her whole evening off. She grabbed the container of leftover spaghetti from the previous night and popped it in the microwave to heat while she showered off.
After her shower, Emma threw on a long T-shirt and panties and towel-dried her hair. As much as she loved the beach, it always felt good to get the sand off. She couldn’t stand having it on her furniture. Before settling down to eat her leftovers, she rummaged in her bookcase and found her senior yearbook. With her ten-year high school reunion coming up, she thought she would take a trip down memory lane while she ate.
As she flipped through the pages and saw pictures of friends she hadn’t talked to in years, she turned the page and noticed a booklet nestled there. Flipping it over, she saw the caption STUDS OF SUMMER. Emma started laughing, recognizing the college calendar that her friend Madison’s boyfriend, Paul, had been featured in. The fraternity that had the calendar printed had been raising money for a big graduation trip to Hawaii. Each month, a different fraternity brother was listed with some mindless list of his likes. She thumbed through the pages laughing as she passed Paul’s pose as Mr. September. When she got to the last page, she wasn’t sure what made her pause to study Mr. December. He was dark and sexy. His hair was rumpled in an “I’m too sexy to care” kind of way. He appeared completely nude, but a clever crossing of his legs covered the family jewels. He was lying on what looked like a black silk-covered bed with an arm thrown back propping up his head. He was giving the camera his best smoldering look. The caption read “Mr. December has been a very naughty boy. This bad boy would love to deck your halls with his boughs of holly . . .” Emma rolled her eyes at the poor attempt to defile Christmas. She took one last look and suddenly it hit her. No fucking way! It couldn’t be, could it? She finally knew why Brant had looked familiar to her from their first meeting. Her uptight, sarcastic, arrogant ass of a boss was freaking Mr. December!
Emma gripped her sides as she rolled with laughter. She hadn’t been this excited since Macy’s put the pair of platform pumps she’d been eyeing for months on clearance. Man, that had been an awesome day, but this was better, way better. Oh, the things she would do to him with this information! Suddenly the thought of going back to work tomorrow didn’t bother her. She couldn’t wait to get in there and start baiting him. How many hints would she have to drop and how long would it take for him to connect the dots? She was going to deck his halls all right, and she didn’t need boughs of holly to do it.
Chapter Three
Emma arrived for work fifteen minutes early the next day with the Starbucks coffee that Brant had suggested. He was already at his desk when she gently placed the cup in front of him. He leaned slightly back, looking at the cup as if it might explode at any moment. He didn’t look any more encouraged when she graced him with her brightest smile. “Here’s your coffee as requested. Don’t worry; it doesn’t contain any dairy product.”
“Er . . . thank you. I appreciate it.” Then, clearing his throat, he said, “I trust you’re feeling better today after your headache yesterday.”
Emma knew he was trying to bait her to get things back on normal ground, but she refused to rise to the occasion. He deserved to sweat it out for a bit longer. “Oh yes, after getting all ‘decked’ out for work this morning, I felt much better.”
Obviously confused, Brant studied her for a moment before handing her a file. “Could you please fax this for me and then finish the presentation for Gray by this afternoon?”
“Of course, Brant, I’ll get right on it.” She smiled as she walked back to her desk. The rest of the morning was busy and she didn’t have another chance to heckle him until later on.
“Emma, you inverted the last two numbers on this report; could you please correct it?”
As he was walking away from her desk, Emma snickered to herself. “Whoops, that wasn’t nice at all. In fact, it was very naughty of me, wasn’t it?”
Brant stopped and turned back to her. “Did you do it on purpose or something?”
Shaking her head, Emma said, “No, of course not. Just give me a second and I will fix it for you.” He didn’t say anything else as he walked back into his office. She gave herself a mental pat on the back for managing to insert the words naughty and nice into the conversation. But the boughs of holly were going to be more difficult. Why couldn’t it be December now instead of July?
When she stuck her head in his office before lunch, he was on a call and just waved her away. She gave him another bright smile and walked out the door whistling. She had a mission during her lunch hour, and she had never been more grateful that Myrtle Beach had a year-round Christmas store. She wanted to hug the kind saleslady when she showed her the rack of Santa hats in the back of the store.
She grabbed a quick burger to eat in the car on her way back to the office. Her cell phone rang and seeing her mother’s name on the caller ID made her bite off a curse. The woman always seemed to know when she had five extra minutes, and Kat Davis hated for anyone to have idle time. Emma debated letting it go to voice mail but decided it was better to get it over with in the privacy of her own car. Clicking the answer button, she said sarcastically, “Yes, Mommy.”
Her mother chuckled. “I assume you’re on your lunch hour?”
“Mmm, yes, but would it bother you if I weren’t?”
“Probably not, dear, but I thought I would check. So anyway, I was in Belk’s this morning looking for a new swimsuit because your father says I should get a bikini. I found a fabulous one with a metal ring in the middle of the top, which calls a lot of attention to the girls. The bottoms have those drawstrings on the side like you wear. It looks amazing!”
“Um, okay. I’m happy for you, Mom.”
As if she hadn’t said anything, her mother continued on, almost in the same breath. “So, that isn’t why I called. While I was at the mall, I ran into Cindy Hogan. You remember David, who went to school with you, don’t you? I know he didn’t have much going on upstairs, but the boy was hot and still is. I saw him last year at a barbecue. Cindy said he’s going to the reunion next month and doesn’t have a girlfriend. I think I can get you in with him. It doesn’t matter if he is dumb as a box of rocks as long as he looks good on your arm, right?”