Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
“I will. Thank you very much.” I pause. “Can I ask you something off the record?”
“No.” She avoids looking at me as she stands. “We're officially on the record forever, Mr. Calloway.”
“I would still like to have lunch with you on weekends like we used to before the promotion.”
“To only discuss business, correct?”
Silence.
“By the way,” she says, “the second floor is planning a Santa-themed party to congratulate you."
“Santa-themed?” I groan. “Whose brilliant idea was that?”
“Bob in Editorial. Don't worry, though. As my final ‘off-the-record’ favor to you, I told him to hold off and make it a simple New Year’s party in January.”
“Thank you.”
She shrugs instead of saying, “You’re welcome.”
“One last thing, I’ll be back to work on January third,” she says. “I’m taking an extended break.”
“You're not supposed to tell me,” I say. “You’re supposed to ask.”
“Oh, okay.” She crosses her arms. “May I tell you that I’m taking off early for the holidays and won’t be back until the third of January?”
“Fine.” I roll my eyes. “You’ll need to commit to working through the holidays next year, though. I have to hire an official creative president by then, and it would be nice if it were you.”
“I won't even be working here next year.”
WHAT? “What did you just say?”
“I said, 'Thank you for your kindness and understanding, and I’ll see you in the new year.”
“That’s not what you said, Taryn.”
“Prove it.” She heads toward the door.
"Wait a second, Taryn,” I say. “Wait.”
“Yeah?” She looks over her shoulder.
“Is this the year that your Christmas marriage pact with Cameron comes true?"
She gasps. “I told you about that?”
I nod. “Several times.”
“I’m still twenty-nine,” she says. “We would get married next year, if I haven’t fallen for someone else by then.”
“Okay.”
“Okay…”
“Are you going to try to find someone?” I ask. “Do you have any real feelings for him?”
“I’m afraid the answers to those questions are none of your business, Mr. Calloway.” She keeps her voice firm as she opens the door. “See you in the new year, and congratulations on being the new boss.”
—
ONE YEAR LATER
THREE
TARYN
As much as it pains me to admit it, James is an amazing CEO.
Under his leadership, Magnolia Marketing has ascended from the fifth-best ad company in the country to number one. I'm being paid triple what I made before, and even though he insists that I join him for tension-filled coffee and lunch meetings every week, he’s a far better boss than Mr. Adeleman ever was.
Setting a milk latte on his desk, I spot his assistant unbuttoning her blouse to reveal a sparkling red Santa bra.
“You do know that Mr. Calloway hates the holidays, right?” I ask her.
“I know that he hates you.” She scoffs. “Stay out of our business.”
“Right…” I shake my head. “Can you tell him that the Fresca Team changed their meeting request to Christmas Eve, so he’ll have a bit more time to work on it?”
“You’ll have to relay that to someone else,” she says. “Mr. Calloway is taking his first holiday vacation this year, so that’s something you and the other executives will have to figure out amongst yourselves while he’s enjoying a well-earned Christmas.”
“Is he going somewhere like Los Angeles or Hawaii?”
“He probably wouldn’t have told me to pack his ski kit if that were the case.” She points to a suitcase and a stack of perfectly wrapped emerald boxes.
Confused, I walk over to them and feel a sudden ache in my chest.
Has he been dating someone this year? How did I miss that?
“It’s a long-distance relationship.” Daphne reads my mind. “There’s still hope for me, though. I’m holding out for a holiday miracle.”
“A holiday miracle for what, Daphne?” James steps into the room.
“Nothing!” She blushes and rushes to his bookshelf.
Clearing my throat, I hand him a file.
“Here’s everything you need for the Raymond campaign.” I refuse to make eye contact with him. “If the team gets confused about any of my notes, they can call me.”
“Call you?”
“Yes,” I say. “They have my phone number, but Colorado is an hour ahead of Seattle, so tell them to keep that in mind.”
He crosses his arms and stares at me, pinning me to the spot with his heated gaze.
“Miss Stone, do you recall when we spoke this time last year and I told you that you would be required to work Christmas this year?”
“Honestly, no. I don’t remember that at all.”
“Well, I told you that, and I’ve sent several emails to every executive about this for months,” he says. “We can’t afford to not have all hands on deck this year.”
“Then why are you leaving?”
“Because I’m the boss.” He narrows his eyes. “There’s some special preemptive business I’ll be tending to.”
“Screwing your secret girlfriend can wait a few days.” I shrug. “I’ll be available via phone. Period.”
“I’m not asking you about this, Miss Stone.”