Page 44 of The Christmas Dash

“Do you like living there?” I ask

“It has its perks.”

“Like the crowds begging for autographs?” I keep my tone light, refusing to acknowledge how Lola’s comment on the DDD post sent me into a spiral of jealousy.

“Actually, no.”

“Then the personal stylist who keeps you looking like a rugged-cowboy model?”

“Excuse me?” He chuckles. “A rugged-cowboy model?”

“You know.”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t. You’re gonna have to elaborate.”

“Windblown hair. Lots of flannel and worn leather jackets.” I side-eye him. “Come on, Gabe. No one’s told you lately that you look like a modern John Wayne with your dark, messy hair and big broad shoulders?”

“Are you telling me that right now? Because you’d be the first.”

I snort. “I don’t believe you. I’m sure the ladies are lining up.”

Why, Beth? Why are you bringing up his dating life?

I don’t know why I referred to him as a modern John Wayne. Or why I referenced his big broad shoulders. Or his windblown hair, for that matter. I am a verbal wrecking ball right now, destroying my own dignity while I spew nonsense at my best-friend-turned-crush-turned-stranger-turned-friend-again.

“I hadn’t noticed,” he says quietly.

Something like electricity fires across my shoulder blades when our gazes connect.

“Right.” I clear my throat. “Well. I’m sure if you open your eyes to it, you’ll see a long line of women just waiting for you to sweep them off their feet.”

Gabe frowns as he opens the door to the building for me. “What if I want them to sweep me off my feet? Think they’d be up for it?”

“Quit teasing me!” I stick out my tongue at him as I walk inside.

Of course Lorissa Kell is standing right in the entryway and catches my childish behavior. The smile on my face falls, and I have to work to put it back in place.

“Mrs. Kell, hi.” I walk toward her and she opens her arms to me. I step into a hug, and she air-kisses each of my cheeks. I lean side to side and return the gesture. “Thanks so much for seeing us.” I step back. “Let me introduce you to Gabe McKenzie.”

“Musician extraordinaire. I saw you in concert in Las Vegas.” Lorissa’s accent makes her sound so distinguished. She smiles at Gabe. “Welcome.”

Gabe nods, a blush tingeing his cheeks pink. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. What an amazing place you’ve built here.”

He looks around, taking in the interior of the building, which is more impressive than the exterior.

We’re standing in the atrium, which has lofted ceilings. Around the second level, there’s an open walkway that looks down at where we’re standing. A giant chandelier hangs from the center of the ceiling. Framed art depicting sweeping, snow-covered landscapes from across the world adorns the walls, and overstuffed leather furniture is situated on either side of the grand room, giving it more of a homey feel. The whole room is so effortlessly perfect. Like it was plucked straight from a catalog and dropped here.

Lorissa herself is magazine-worthy. She’s built like a ballerina, all long lines and perfect posture. Her ice-blonde hair is hanging in loose waves and falls in perfectly proportioned sections on either side of her shoulders. Not a strand is out of place of her center part. Her pearl earrings (real ones, of course) glisten in the lights of the room. She has on a sheer top with balloon sleeves over a black tank, wide-legged black satin pants and three-inch strappy heels. How she doesn’t trip and fall going up and down a literal mountain to work every day, I’ll never know.

I push my glasses up my nose and try not to feel frumpy. Unlike Gabe’s mom, who has always been kind and supportive of me, I never can tell if Lorissa likes me or if she’s judging me.

Lorissa dips her chin, acknowledging the compliment. “It’s my pride and joy. Ah, Richie.” She glances past us and waves.

I turn to see her husband exiting one of the offices on the side of the main space. He’s wearing black dress pants and a button-down shirt with a red tie. The two of them look like they’re ready for a night at the symphony.

“I thought I was going to have to come in there myself and cut that meeting short. Our guests are here.” Lorissa waves a graceful hand toward Gabe and me, as if Richie can’t already see us.

“Never fear, darling. We were just finishing up. Calvin is sending off an email, but then he’ll be right out.”