Читать книгу Sleigh Bells in the Snow - Sarah Morgan - Страница 11

“ANGIE CALLED FROM the Washington Post. I told her you’d call her back. And I finished that media list.” Stacy leaned across the desk and Kayla was nearly asphyxiated.

“Er—nice perfume.” Her hand wrapped around the tall cappuccino she’d picked up on her way into the office. She unwrapped her cashmere scarf and dropped it over her chair, sending snowflakes floating across her desk. “It’s freezing out there. If I’d known New York was this cold in winter I would have requested the L.A. office.” Snatching a sip of coffee, she toed off the boots she’d worn to walk the short distance from her apartment and dragged her shoes from the drawer in her desk.

Through the glass wall that cut her off from the rest of the fortieth floor, she could see two of the junior account executives discreetly replenishing makeup. “What’s going on? Brett will hit the roof if he walks past and sees lip gloss and girl bonding.”

“Brett’s with Jackson O’Neil. They’re waiting for you in the boardroom.”

“Jackson O’Neil is the reason for the perfume and the sudden run on cosmetics?”

“The man is smoking-hot, Kayla.”

Only half listening, Kayla pulled her phone out of her pocket, checking new emails while she pushed her feet into her shoes. “Did you get any more information on him?”

“Yes. He is insanely sexy and—” Stacy blushed “—single.”

“I meant on the company.”

“I sent everything I found to your in-box this morning, but Kayla he’s—”

“Somehow I’ve managed to amass fifty emails since I left my apartment. How is that possible? I cleared my in-box at 5:00 a.m.” Kayla put down her coffee, slid her phone into her bag and scooped up the stack of notes she’d scribbled at three in the morning. “When I saw the snow, I assumed O’Neil would cancel.”

“He took an earlier flight because the forecast was bad and he wanted this done. I collected him from the foyer. I managed to behave with dignity and not leap on him.”

“That would have given a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘full service agency.’” Grinning, Kayla smoothed her hair and took a deep breath. “Go and stick your head under the water cooler.”

“Your in-box is the equivalent of a cold shower. By the way, this came for you. It’s marked Personal so I didn’t open it. I guess it’s from someone who doesn’t have your home address.” Stacy handed her an envelope, and Kayla recognized her stepmother’s handwriting.

Cold trickled down her spine. It was like landing naked in a snowdrift.

“Thanks.” Stuffing it quickly into her bag, she strode out of her office and took the stairs down to the foyer, wishing she’d left the envelope on her desk instead of putting it in her bag. Now it was there, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. It made the bag feel heavy even though it weighed no more than a few flakes of snow.

She stopped in the stairwell, pressed her palm to her ribs and took a few deep breaths.

The only things that should be on her mind right now were Jackson O’Neil and the Snow Crystal Resort and Spa. She shouldn’t be thinking about her stepmother, not least because thinking of her stepmother always made her think of her father and then, inevitably, her mother.

She allowed herself a moment to stare through the window at the high-rises of Midtown, reminded herself how hard she’d worked to be standing here now, and then she continued down the stairs and pushed open the doors into the foyer.

The New York offices of Innovation were sleek and stylish, enveloped in floor-to-ceiling glass that offered breathtaking views over the skyscrapers of Manhattan. Usually Kayla found it the perfect working environment, but today chic minimalism had been displaced by festive touches. A huge Christmas tree dominated the foyer and someone had twisted a rope of tiny stars across the top of the boardroom door.

Everyone, from the receptionist right up to Brett himself, was in that smiling, energy-fueled phase that came between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Maybe she was Scrooge, Kayla thought gloomily, her heels tapping on the polished oak floor as she walked past the receptionist and gave her a discreet wave. Maybe next year she’d book herself a log cabin with a view of a forest and a lake.

Maybe next year she’d arrange for someone to kidnap Santa.

She pushed open the door and Brett rose to his feet.

“Here she is! The star of the show. Kayla, meet Jackson O’Neil. Jackson, this is Kayla Green.”

He was standing with his back to her, his eyes on the city spread out in front of him.

In those few seconds, Kayla decided Stacy had exaggerated his appeal. True, that jet-black hair looked promising, and he appeared to be taller and broader than the average businessman she encountered during her working day, but as far as she could see there was nothing else about him that warranted the volume of cosmetics and heavy breathing that was going on up on the fortieth floor.

And then he turned.

With hair that black she’d expected his eyes to be dark, but they were blue. A fierce, intense blue, and Kayla stopped breathing altogether because nothing about this man was average.

There was a hard strength to his features, a toughness that fitted everything she’d read about him in the cold chill of her early-morning work session. From the bold sweep of his eyebrows to the bump in his nose, he was wholly and unequivocally male.

That heavy-lidded gaze assessed her in a single sweep, and she felt as if someone had kicked her legs out from under her.

She thought about Stacy’s suggestion that she ask Santa for Jackson O’Neil naked.

Dear Santa, it’s been a long time since you’ve heard from me, but—

“Miss Green.” His voice was deep and strong, and she was recovering from the shock of realizing that for once Stacy’s taste in men made perfect sense, when he strode across the room and shook her hand.

The sudden jolt of chemistry unsettled her.

“Good to meet you, Mr. O’Neil.”

For a fleeting moment it crossed her mind that this man might even have what it took to make her forget her emails. Then she remembered that the consequence of forgetting her emails was doing a bad job and there was no way she was ever going to let that happen.

“I hope your trip was good?” Kayla chose a seat as far away from those blue eyes as she could reasonably position herself. “I’m excited about this opportunity. Why don’t you start by telling us a bit more about how you think we can help, Mr. O’Neil.”

“Jackson.”

“Jackson.” It felt too personal. “I’ve followed the growth of Snowdrift Leisure.”

“My focus right now is Snow Crystal, the family business. It was originally run by my father.”

And his father had been killed in a car accident in New Zealand. She’d read about it in her research.

She was wondering how to tactfully ask the question that had been nagging her, when he raised an eyebrow.

“You have a question?” He was brutally direct. “It’s important to me that this project is successful, so if there’s something you need to know then ask.”

“I don’t want to be insensitive.”

His eyes gleamed. “Do I look delicate?”

He looked like a man who could chop down a tree with a swing of his hand. “It would help to understand why you chose to take over the business now and not earlier in your career.”

“Have you worked with family?”

“No.” A knot tightened in her stomach. “No, I haven’t.”

“Good decision. A family business is driven by a great deal more than a concern for the bottom line. To describe it as complicated would be to simplify the situation.” A wry smile tugged at his mouth, and Kayla found herself looking at the curve of his lips. She was sure Jackson O’Neil would be an exceptionally skilled kisser.

Irritated with herself, she opened her notepad.

Damn Stacy.

“I can imagine it isn’t easy to agree on a business strategy when the people involved have an emotional investment. Perhaps you could outline their different responsibilities within the company?”

“I’d describe it as flexible.” He leaned back in his chair. “The company structure, if you can call it that, is informal. If anyone has an idea, they speak up, although that doesn’t mean anyone is going to listen to them.”

But they’d listen to him, she was sure of that. The air of power and authority was unmistakable.

“It sounds charming,” Brett said smoothly, and Kayla kept her eyes on her notepad.

It sounded like chaos.

She looked up. “Tell me a bit about Snow Crystal itself.”

“The O’Neils have owned the land around Snow Crystal for four generations. My great-grandfather bought it for the sugar maple trees and set up a business producing maple syrup. They did it the old-fashioned way, tapping the trees and collecting the sap in a bucket. My great-grandmother helped. They started selling the syrup and her syrup cookies out of their kitchen. Tourists enjoyed visiting the sugarhouse, so they started offering overnight stays. The business grew from that.” He spoke with assurance, his voice deep and compelling as he outlined his family history.

It was a story of a family who had stuck together, a family who had labored to build something. A family with a past and a future.

What did she know about that?

Nothing.

She reminded herself he was buying her expertise, not her pedigree. “I took a look at the log cabins online.”

“Building those was the first thing I did when I came back eighteen months ago. They’re built from reclaimed wood and have log fires, a hot tub and a view of the forest. If someone wants to escape, this is the place.”

“Book me in.” Smiling, Kayla scribbled romantic getaway on her pad. “And the rest of the accommodation?”

He talked, describing the resort and the changes he’d made.

She thought about the articles she’d read in the middle of the night when sleep had eluded her. A talented skier, he’d started a company for people like himself. The words used to describe him had included focused, ruthless and visionary, and his success with Snowdrift Leisure suggested they were accurate.

Kayla thought about the image of him plunging into a snow gully on skis.

Distracted by the image in her head, she rose to her feet and paced to the window. “I have a few more questions—what do you see as your main offering, Mr. O’Neil?” Apart from killer blue eyes and a hot sexy body.

“We offer the usual range of winter sports, together with skating on the lake and horse-drawn sleigh rides.” He pushed a brochure across the table toward her. “Despite the addition of the spa and the cabins, we’re losing money. Our occupancy rate is under forty percent. the only part of the business currently in profit is our restaurant.”

“Your strategy with Snowdrift was to target the high end of the market. Your clients were cash rich and time poor so you did everything for them apart from take the vacation yourself.” She paused, thinking. “Who do you see as your main target audience? Families? Couples? Lone travelers? Adventure seekers?” Christmas escapees?

The corners of his mouth flickered. “At the moment it’s anyone we can drag through the doors, but it’s definitely a good place for families. We had fun growing up at Snow Crystal. Now we want to offer that same opportunity to our guests.”

“How does your family feel about you bringing in an outside agency to work with you?”

“Unconvinced.”

“You’re confident you can persuade them to accept our recommendations?”

“It’s your job to persuade them. Can you do it?”

“Of course she can. Kayla is the best there is,” Brett drawled. “She’ll have them eating out of her hand after five minutes. No worries.”

“That’s good, because eating is something of a family pastime.” Jackson’s gaze was fixed on Kayla. “I’ve come to you because you’re reputed to be the best. It’s essential that you can engage my family in whatever recommendations you make.”

“Understood.” Kayla sat back down and wrote herself a note on her pad. “It’s always important to obtain buy-in from the whole management team.”

“It’s going to be a challenge.”

Brett smiled. “Challenge is Kayla’s favourite breakfast dish, along with a side of difficult marinated in the impossible. Isn’t that right, Kayla?”

She wished Brett would shut up. “Who do you see as the most important person to influence?”

“My grandfather.” He didn’t hesitate. “He was born on Snow Crystal, lived and worked there all his life. He’d still like to be the one running the show. He resents the fact that he isn’t.”

And you resent the fact he won’t let you get on with it, Kayla thought.

“So he doesn’t leave you to run it yourself?”

“My grandfather lives and breathes the place. You know how it is with family.”

Something twisted deep in her gut.

No, she didn’t know how it was with family. She had no idea.

Kayla forced a smile. “So you’d like me to fly up there and meet them?”

“I want more than that. In order to persuade my grandfather to entertain the idea of taking on outside help, I’ve told them you’ll spend some time with us. Show that you understand our business.”

The fact that he’d done that without checking her schedule confirmed her suspicion that Jackson O’Neil was a man who hadn’t often heard the word no.

She kept her smile firmly in place. “That sounds like an excellent suggestion.”

“I want you to come for a week.”

A week!

Even Brett was shaken out of his customary cool. “Jackson—”

A week?

“You’ll spend quality time soaking up all that Snow Crystal has to offer.”

It was a test of commitment.

Those blue eyes were deceptive, Kayla thought, and dangerous. On the surface Jackson O’Neil seemed civil and approachable, but he was a man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to go for it. She had a feeling he used those eyes to lull his prey into a stupor before he pounced.

“A week could be difficult.”

“But you feast on difficult, isn’t that right?” He strangled her objections with the rope provided by Brett. “You’ll find a way. Naturally I’ll pay for your time.”

Kayla could virtually see dollar signs tracking across Brett’s eyeballs.

Her boss relaxed. “In that case, no worries.”

She resisted the temptation to leap across the desk and squeeze Brett’s throat until the words no worries never left his lips again.

She tried to work out how she was going to find a week in her packed schedule when even peeing required forward planning. A day would have put her in a cold sweat, but a week?

Trying to find a response that didn’t include the words, find me a time machine and I’ll find you a week, she opened her mouth to attempt to negotiate for an overnight stay in the new year, and then an idea formed in her brain.

“Did you say those luxury log cabins were secluded?”

“Yes.”

“So secluded,” she said casually, “that when a person is staying there, they could be the only human being on the planet?”

Blue eyes locked on hers. “The only thing a guest in the cabin will see as they’re lying in the hot tub is local wildlife. White-tailed deer, raccoons, moose—the occasional black bear, although they’re denning at this time of year so that’s unlikely.”

“Denning?”

“They’re not true hibernators, but they den during the winter months.”

Kayla decided that given the choice between an encounter with Santa or a black bear, she’d take the bear. And as for the rest of it—presumably the local wildlife wouldn’t be banging on her door expecting her to celebrate Christmas. “You mentioned a log fire—”

“The cabins are luxurious.”

She tilted her head to one side, mesmerized by the image in her head. Her mood lifted and this time her smile was genuine. “I agree it’s important that I experience everything Snow Crystal has to offer. A week sounds reasonable. If there is a cabin free over the holidays, I’ll come.”

“The holidays?” Dark brows rose. “You mean Christmas?”

“If I’m going to feast on difficult—” she flashed a smile at Brett “—I like it served with cranberry sauce. Your grandfather needs evidence of my dedication…hopefully this will suffice. What better time for me to gain a feel for the charms of Snow Crystal? It will put me in a unique position to develop an integrated marketing plan that will make you stand out from the crowd.” And it would also put her in a unique position to avoid the one time of year she hated more than any other.

Thank you, God.

A secluded log cabin and a business run by a family who would resent her presence at this time of year and undoubtedly leave her alone.

Perfect. Or it would be, if Jackson O’Neil would stop looking at her.

It was unsettling, and not just because he was spectacularly good-looking. Thick, dark lashes shielded eyes that saw far too much.

“Don’t you have plans for the holidays?”

Yes. Her plan was to avoid the whole thing. To find a way of spending the holidays in a Santa-free zone. She was following the example of the black bear, which was clearly a highly evolved species.

“My plans, Mr. O’Neil, are to make sure that by this time next year you have a waiting list for cancellations and that the resort of choice for winter fun and relaxation is Snow Crystal. Together, we are going to drive your brand to the top. Perhaps you’d be kind enough to reserve me the most remote cabin you have available. It will be easier to focus if I’m far away from other guests.” Oh, for goodness’ sake, he was still looking at her. “Of course if you’d rather wait until the new year—”

“Tell me a bit about yourself.”

“Me?” The question took her by surprise. “I read English at Oxford and then—”

“Not your academic background. Tell me something about you.”

“Oh. I’ve worked for Innovation since—”

“Something personal.”

It was Kayla’s turn to stare. “Personal?”

“What do you do when you’re not working?”

Kayla froze. No one had ever asked her that. Usually the questions were about forecasts, strategy, circulation figures—no one had ever asked her what she did when she wasn’t working. “I—”

“It’s a simple question, Miss Green.”

No, it wasn’t a bloody simple question. She decided to treat it like one of those interview questions where they asked your weaknesses and you gave them something they wouldn’t see as a weakness, such as I work too hard.

“I work too hard.” She gave an apologetic smile. “That doesn’t leave much free time. Right now my focus is my career. I’d rather be working than doing anything else.”

She’d especially rather be doing that than celebrating Christmas.

“Your family won’t object if you work over the holidays?”

Why was the guy asking about her family? He wanted to buy her skills, not adopt her. No client had ever asked her a question about family. All they cared about was hearing what she could do for their business. No one had ever been remotely interested in the person behind the machine.

Her smile frozen to her face in a bizarre rictus, Kayla hunted for a response that was neither rude nor a lie. “They won’t object. We’re all busy people.” Terrified that he might see through that neutral statement, she snapped her gaze from his and closed her notepad. “I will spend the week living and breathing Snow Crystal, write up my recommendations with input from the team back here and then we’ll start work in the new year. Brett?” She glanced at him for support, knowing Brett was too hungry for the business to care if she drove a snowplow through her own vacation.

“Sounds good. I’ll even provide the eggnog.”

For once relieved that her boss was living up to his reputation for forgetting the people who worked for him had a personal life, Kayla relaxed. “Make it tequila and I’ll put you back on my Christmas card list.”

“Done. And you can put a pair of snow boots on expenses.”

“You’re all heart, boss.”

“No worries.”

Across the table, Jackson O’Neil was still watching her. Beneath the well-cut suit he exuded a raw sexuality that made it almost impossible for a woman to look away.

“Would you describe yourself as an outdoor girl, Kayla?”

Not in a million years. “I don’t spend anywhere near as much time outdoors as I would like—” she adopted a regretful tone “—so I’m looking forward to rectifying that. And I love snow. Love it.” Maybe she should have said that once. Maybe twice was overdoing it.

“That’s good to hear.” That hypnotic blue gaze didn’t shift from hers. “So you ski?”

Remembering the picture of him plunging into a deep, snow-filled gully, Kayla decided it was safer not to lie about that. “Not exactly, but I’ve always wanted to, so this will be the perfect opportunity. I can’t wait, although I think my preference will probably be for—er—flat slopes.”

Dark brows rose. “Flat slopes?”

“Nothing too—” she tilted her hand to demonstrate a steep gradient “—terrifying.”

“Right.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw, and she had a feeling he was smiling. “Flat slopes. I admire your dedication.” He rose to his feet, lithe and athletic. One glance at his powerful thighs told her that this man didn’t expect his slopes to be flat.

She hoped he still admired her dedication when she was lying prostrate at his feet.

Belatedly, Kayla realized that spending a week at Snow Crystal meant spending a week in the close company of Jackson O’Neil, a man whose idea of fun was to jump off cliffs and land on a near-vertical slope.

Maybe she should have been more honest about her lack of experience.

Maybe she should book herself a hospital bed right now.

Gathering up her notes, she produced her most reassuring corporate smile and walked around to his side of the table. “Here at Innovation we’re always willing to go that extra mile for a client.” Preferably not downhill on skis, but if that was the only way then so be it. “Fast paced and focused. That’s what we do.” She stuck out her hand and then wished she hadn’t, as strong, male fingers closed over hers.

She tried not to wince.

The guy was strong enough to kill a moose with his bare hands. And even though she was wearing her favorite confidence-inducing killer heels, he was taller. His hair was dark and gleamed under the harsh lighting of the boardroom. It should have been unforgiving, but it simply served to spotlight his spectacular good looks.

“Let me know when your flight gets in and I’ll pick you up from the airport.” He released her hand. “We’ll do what we can to make the holidays special for you. It will give you a chance to try a variety of winter sports seeing as you—er—love snow so much.” The glitter in his eyes told her he’d guessed that her only contact with snow up until now had been to stare at it through the office window and brush it off her coat.

She told herself it didn’t matter.

“Secluded cabin, log fire, views of a frozen lake—” No Santa, no store window displays or canned Christmas music and most of all, no memories. “It doesn’t get any more perfect than that. Have a safe trip home.”

THE WOMAN HAD obviously never been near real snow in her life.

Hiding a smile, Jackson snapped his bag shut and watched as she walked briskly away from him, those incredible legs accentuated by heels so high she almost needed to breathe additional oxygen. Her hair was smooth and silky and brushed her shoulders in a perfectly tamed curtain of pale gold. He was willing to bet Kayla Green had never had a bad hair day in her life. Everything about her was ruthlessly polished and controlled. He wondered idly what would happen to that hair after she’d spent a day in the mountains.

He wondered who she was under the gloss.

“I didn’t expect her to be able to come over the holidays.” He hadn’t expected the chemistry, either, but he let that pass. He had enough complications in his life without adding more. “There can’t be many people her age who would choose to spend Christmas in an isolated cabin, however luxurious.”

“That’s Kayla. If she’s on a project then she’s on it a hundred and fifty percent. She’s brilliant and she has the best media contacts in the business. It’s the reason I poached her from the London office. The girl is a tiger.”

He was banking on it. He needed someone besides him who would take the business seriously. But still—

“She didn’t have plans to return home for Christmas?”

Clearly that possibility hadn’t occurred to Brett, who shrugged. “If she did, she’ll cancel. Snow Crystal is our top priority, and she’s the woman to make it happen.”

They walked together through to the foyer and Jackson paused, ignoring the long, speculative look the pretty receptionist sent in his direction.

“Does she never relax?”

“I’m not paying her to relax.” Brett produced a smile in response to Jackson’s raised eyebrow. “Sure, she relaxes. When she’s asleep. That’s the only time any of us relaxes. Drives my wife crazy. But Kayla’s adaptable, and she’ll do anything for her clients. If you need her to ski, she’ll ski. Wrestle a bear—she’ll wrestle a bear. No worries.”

Jackson didn’t reply. He was willing to bet if Kayla Green saw a bear they’d hear the screams back in New York.

For the past eighteen months, he’d thought of nothing but Snow Crystal, but suddenly all he could think of was joining Kayla in the secluded log cabin away from the outside world. His mind, starved of other outlets for creativity, used its creative talents to imagine her naked in the hot tub, cheeks pink, that smooth blond hair curling in the steam.

Damn.

Thanks to the influence of his family, he was taking unprofessional to a whole new level.

“YOU’RE WORKING OVER the holidays?” Stacy stared at her in dismay. “Kayla, that totally sucks.”

It was a dream come true. “It’s a bummer, but I’ll live with it,” Kayla said happily.

“But what about Christmas?”

“Christmas is canceled.” She resisted the temptation to dance across her office.

“You’re being so brave about it.”

“I’m gutted, but there’s no point in moaning.”

“That is so unfair of Brett.” Stacy was outraged. “You should be partying. Enjoying yourself. I don’t mean to be personal, but when did you last go on a date?”

“Date?” Why did everyone keep asking so many difficult questions? “Er—there was that guy from the twentieth floor—I saw him a couple of times.”

“If you’re talking about the accountant, you saw him once.”

“I’m not good at long relationships.” Kayla piled everything she had on Snow Crystal into her bag. “Did you call everyone for a meeting?”

“Yes. And Kayla, one date is not a relationship.”

“My point exactly.”

“Are you sure you won’t come with us tomorrow? We’re meeting at 7:00 a.m. downstairs at the Rockefeller Centre for the first skate of the day. Full VIP package. Hot chocolate and skate concierge. We’d love for you to join us.”

“What the hell is skate concierge?” Kayla reached for the bottle of water she kept on her desk.

“Some guy or girl pulls your skates on I guess.” Stacy shrugged. “After that we’re going to Santaland at Macy’s. It’s the whole Christmas experience.”

Kill me now.

Kayla’s jaw ached from smiling. She wondered whether she dared ring Jackson O’Neil and ask if she could have the cabin early. The way she felt, she was willing to camp in the forest. “Sorry to seem antisocial, but I just can’t afford the time.” She leaned back in her chair, stomach aching, head throbbing from too much time thinking about Christmas.

“Skating would be good practice for Vermont.”

“I don’t need practice. I’m going to be planning their campaign from the comfort of my log cabin.”

“Won’t your family be upset you’re not coming home this year?”

“They’re understanding.” Now it wasn’t just her stomach and her head, it was her heart and her throat. Damn. She’d thought she was tougher than this. “Thanks to Jackson O’Neil, I now have enough work to keep me going through the next five holiday seasons, so if you wouldn’t mind—”

“Brett should have gone.”

“Brett has a wife and four kids, although when he had time to make four kids I have no idea given that he’s always in the office. Anyway, O’Neil asked for me—he’s going to get me.”

Stacy’s eyebrows lifted and Kayla rolled her eyes.

“Not in that way. He’s going to get the working, professional me.” She tried not to think about those blue eyes or the width of his shoulders.

“Is there any other version? Kayla, you should not be spending the holidays alone.”

“I won’t be alone. There will be moose, raccoons and—and—” she racked her brains “—other lovely, cute Christmassy furry things.”

“Have you actually ever seen a moose?”

“Not in the flesh, no.” Thank goodness. “But I’m sure they’re adorable. Why do you ask?”

“Because a moose is not a cute furry thing. I’m checking, so you know what you’re getting into.” Leaning across the desk, Stacy tapped Kayla’s keyboard and a moment later a large image of a moose appeared, its elongated bony face filling her screen.

“Dear God—” Kayla recoiled. “That is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I rest my case.” Stacy straightened. “Still keen to spend Christmas there?”

“I won’t be spending it with a moose, that’s for sure. It will be fun. I’ve always thought log fires were romantic.”

“Not by yourself.”

“I won’t be by myself. I’ll take a pile of DVDs. My gift to myself is a boxed set called The Ultimate Horror.”

“Kayla, that’s terrible. Who spends Christmas Day watching horror movies?”

“I do.” She picked up a stack of papers destined to be her bedtime reading.

“What about food?”

“According to Brett I feast on work, but I’ll probably take popcorn.”

“Christmas Day is about sharing good food with people you love, not microwaving popcorn.”

“I love watching horror movies. It will be a treat. Now, kindly remove that moose from my desktop. I have work to do, and I can’t do it with that thing watching me.”