Page 15 of Miss Typed

“Um. Thanks.”

“If that’s all, I have a call to make.”

“Yes. Sorry. I hope you’re not mad.”

I was, but it wasn’t her fault. Instead, I was angry at myself for crossing this line. For making this personal and then for feeling, well, rejected. “Not at all.”

“Are you going home for the holidays?”

“No.” I was done. Done with the personal.

As if she’d sensed it, she sighed heavily. “Okay, then. I’ll talk to you later.”

* * *

Why didn’t she want to go home? The question plagued me over the next twenty-four hours until I couldn’t stand it any longer. I stopped by Reid’s office before he headed home to New Hampshire for the holidays. I planned to stay in town and work the entire time, but I didn’t like the idea of Chloe having to do the same.

“Is there any way I can talk you into coming home?” Reid asked as we both took seats at the small conference table in his office.

“No. Not this year.” Last Christmas at home had been a shit show. I took partial responsibility for that, considering it had been my first holiday home in years, but the large, fancy party my mother had thrown when I was two months post-accident had been torture. Yet my mom had reveled in the role of the disabled veteran’s mother. And Miranda had tried to take on the part of doting girlfriend. After an hour of sympathetic looks and guests I didn’t recognize thanking me for my service, I’d snuck out the back and spent the evening in the garage. Hiding out in one of the many luxury cars parked there, I’d drowned my sorrows in bourbon. Funny how I would’ve preferred the desert, my troops, and celebrating over horrible chow and a game of spades over the rich, lavish party with my family.

“I hope you won’t work the entire time?” Reid pressed.

“Probably will, but the reason I’m here is I need to know more about Chloe. What’s her story?”

“Why? Is she not working out? I swear if you’ve made her cry, there is no hope for you.”

I held up my hand. “She’s fine. But there’s something there. She doesn’t want to go home for Christmas.”

He studied me. “Why does that bother you?”

I sighed, hating to spell it out. “Because I bought her a plane ticket home for Christmas. And she refused it.”

His brows shot up. “You bought her an airplane ticket to Canada?”

I was instantly bothered by the fact he knew where she was from. It shouldn’t have annoyed me. He was HR, and engaged to be married. I was being irrationally jealous. I crossed my arms. “You told me it was protocol for bosses to get their assistants gifts for Christmas, did you not?”

“Yeah, a couple hundred is typical in this office. A plane ticket home was generous, especially considering she’s only worked for you such a short time.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know the etiquette?” Besides, I rarely worried about dollar amounts. “Anyhow, she refused the gift.”

“And you can’t figure out why.”

“Exactly.”

“Did you ask her?”

If he wasn’t my best friend, I would have thought he was patronizing me. Even so, I was annoyed. “Of course. She’s hiding something.”

He sighed. “Aren’t we all, to a certain degree? The bigger question is why you’re so curious?”

“I’m not.” I said it way too fast to be believable. My best friend cocked his head to the side, causing me to amend, “She seems like a good girl. But my gut tells me she’s in some kind of trouble.” I couldn’t explain it, but my instincts were seldom wrong.

“Her roommate, Teagan, flew home yesterday for George’s retirement party and to see her family in California, so Chloe’s not spending the holidays with her.”

Which proved she had been lying.

“I recognize that face, Aiden. Don’t go grilling her. Because I misspoke about not having a replacement for you. With George retiring, it frees up Teagan. As even-tempered and sweet as Chloe is, Teagan is the opposite. She’ll bust your balls every day and make you wish you still had Chloe. Teagan’s feisty as hell.”