Page 67 of The Naughty or Nice Deal

“Here.” Hayden gestures to several glasses, each filled with eggnog. I can see slight differences in the color of the various batches. “Try them.”

“If this is your attempt to poison me, you’re being really obvious about it, doing it with witnesses,” I joke, trying to cover the flutter in my stomach.

Hayden just nudges me with his elbow. “Go on.”

I try each of the eggnogs in turn. I can feel Hayden’s gaze on me, watching my every reaction. It’s hard to concentrate when he’s looking at me like this. Hayden has always seemed to have an uncanny ability to read me, and I’m used to his attention, but always as my boss, never like this. This feels like something new and different, and I don’t know where I stand with him now. Not after what happened the other night.

I savor each drink, rolling the liquid over my tongue, really thinking about the flavor and texture before I swallow. Finally, I tap one of the glasses. “I think this one is the best. I like it. Nice and spicy, but balanced, not overwhelming.”

“You sound like a judge on a cooking show,” Ford comments, but his tone is fond and amused.

Hayden looks satisfied as he takes the glass from me. “Good to know.”

His gaze is still on me, that look of pleasure in his eyes, and I don’t know what to do with the attention. He can claim he likes eggnog now all he wants, but he’s not the one who tried the different versions. He had me do it. And now he’s pleased that I liked one of them.

It has to mean something, doesn’t it? Or am I reading way too much into this?

“Oh, you’re up!” Elaine says, making me jump as she bustles into the kitchen.

She pulls me into a warm hug and kisses my cheek. “I’m so glad to see that you’re feeling better, dear. You are feeling better, aren’t you? Do you need anything?”

“I’m feeling much better, I promise. I was just going to have some breakfast.”

“Oh, perfect timing. And just in time, too. There are quite a few holiday parties happening, and the first one is tonight. The Clairmont family is hosting. They always go overboard. I think it’s because they’re British and they’re trying to prove they’re more sophisticated than us Americans…”

“Mom has her little social rivalries,” Ford says dryly.

I bite back a grin. “Well, I’ll be happy to be there.”

I just hope the dress I brought will be nice enough. I’m sure everyone will be able to tell I got it from a thrift store for ten dollars, but at least I look good in it. I’ve worn it to company parties before and always gotten compliments, so I’m crossing my fingers.

“You don’t have to go,” Ford says. “If you’re not up for it—maybe you need more rest⁠—”

“You’re sweet,” I tell him, because we’re in front of his mom and it’s true. “But I’m really okay, I promise. It was just a twenty-four-hour thing, like I said. I’m feeling like myself again.”

“Just don’t overdo it,” Ford replies. “Take it easy today.”

“I will,” I promise, and I mean it.

I enjoy a hearty breakfast of French toast and eggs and bacon, then spend the day relaxing with Lydia. Turns out the impressive record collection in the living room is mostly hers, so we put on Christmas albums and enjoy listening to the music by the beautifully decorated tree. It looks magical all lit up, and it’s so cozy in here with the fire crackling and snow falling outside.

Lydia’s full of energy, I’ve noticed, but she seems to understand I still need to take it easy, because she just gets out some board games and card games and we play quietly while listening to the music. It’s a really lovely day, actually. The whole thing feels like a dream—it’s exactly what I’d picture if someone told me to imagine my perfect Christmas holiday.

Part of me wonders if I’m still sick and hallucinating this whole thing. This happiness, this wonderful treatment and care from these good people… it can’t last forever. It’ll all end when this arrangement is over and Ford tells his family about our ‘breakup’. Then I’ll be off on my own pursuing my dream.

And it is still my dream. I want my farm-to-table restaurant, and I’m so excited that I’ll actually be debt-free and able to pursue it that I can barely think about it without getting dizzy with anticipation.

But now I also have a taste of another dream: a dream where I have a family that cares about me. A dream where men as handsome and successful and caring as my three bosses actually want me romantically. And I know that this part of the dream… that will never be real.

Luckily I hide that bit of melancholy from Lydia pretty well. Or at least if she notices, she doesn’t say anything, and Lydia’s not good at hiding what she’s feeling. I might not have known her long, but I can tell that about her already.

We make ourselves a nice lunch, and I get to show off my cooking skills. I make us tomato, three-cheese, and bacon paninis with a mustard-pesto spread, plus tomato basil soup to go with it. Lydia’s delighted with everything, and I feel a warm glow of pride at how much she enjoys it.

I bring some to the men too. All three of them are shut up in the office getting work done, catching up on everything, and I know they’ll forget to eat if someone doesn’t remind them.

I get nods of thanks, but none of them look up from their papers, phone calls, or laptops. That’s fine by me. I understand they’re focused, and I don’t take it as an insult.

Finally, it’s time to get ready for the party. The three men emerge from their office when Elaine reminds them, and I smile at the clean plates and bowls.