A Mistletoe Kiss With The Boss. SUSAN MEIER
world. Yet hearing about her, her background, her situation, pleased him.
Even so, starting something with her was wrong. He did not do relationships. Especially not with innocent women. So he stopped the pleasant hum buzzing through him.
The elevator door opened and her gasp of joy took his gaze to her face. Her green eyes sparkled. Her lush lips lifted into a glorious smile.
“It’s so pretty.”
To him the decorations were fairly standard. Evergreen branches outlined the arch doorway that led to the ballroom where white poinsettias in short fat fishbowls sat as centerpieces on round tables covered with red linen tablecloths. Crystal glasses sparkled in candlelight. White lights twinkled overhead like stars.
Putting his hand at the small of her back, Dean nudged her out of the elevator. “It’s about normal.” He frowned. “Your princess must take you nowhere.”
“I’m a background person. But I’m changing that. And I appreciate this opportunity to step out of my comfort zone.”
There was that honesty again. So pure and so simple, it almost made him relax. But that was absurd. Not only was getting involved with this woman out of his life plan, but also his company was in trouble. Instead of constantly being drawn into wondering about unwanted feelings, he needed to use this time to assure people that he wasn’t out of touch. He was in control.
“Dean!”
Dean and Kristen turned toward the sound of the booming voice owned by George Perkins, the party’s host. A tall, striking man, with snow-white hair and probing blue eyes, he held out his hand to Dean. “So glad you could come.”
Dean said, “The pleasure is mine, George. Thank you for inviting me.” He smiled at George’s wife, who stood beside him. Petite and pretty, Lorraine glowed with happiness.
“Good evening, Lorraine.” Then he turned to Kristen. “Kristen, these are George and Lorraine Perkins, our hosts for the evening.” He faced their hosts and said, “This is my guest, Kristen Anderson.”
Kristen shook hands with George and Lorraine. “The decorations are wonderful.”
Lorraine brightened even more. Toying with the extravagant diamond necklace at her throat, she said, “Thank you. It’s always a debate. Simple and elegant or over-the-top. This year I went with simple and elegant.”
Kristen said, “Everything looks perfect.”
A middle-aged couple walked up behind them and Dean took Kristen’s elbow. “We’ll see you inside,” he said to George and Lorraine, as he guided Kristen into the ballroom.
“You should have told Lorraine you liked her necklace.”
Dean stopped. “What?”
“Lorraine kept playing with her necklace. She clearly loves it. Noticing it would have pleased her.”
Dean laughed. “Really? You want a guy to notice a necklace?”
“It couldn’t hurt. Women love compliments. Plus, George probably bought it for her. Noticing would have made him happy too.”
“Are you trying to tell me how to behave?”
“Sort of.”
“Well, stop. I know what works for me in social situations and what doesn’t.”
“I think Jason disagrees with you.”
He grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. “Jason worries like an old woman.”
“Maybe. But you must have agreed on some level or another or I wouldn’t be here.”
“You’re here for appearances.”
“Right. You want me to look normal, so you’ll look normal.” She tapped her index finger on her chin. “Hmm. That actually makes my case, doesn’t it?”
He sighed. Though her logic was a bit twisted, she was correct. Jason wanted him to appear happy and she was happy. “Just don’t say or do anything I’ll regret.”
“Fine. But if I’m supposed to be myself, I’m being myself.”
She accepted the champagne from him and gazed around. Dean took the time she was preoccupied to study her dress, her fancy upswept hair. He almost told her she looked really pretty, but swallowed back the words. He already knew his attraction to her was stronger than he’d thought. Not complimenting her was part of his “don’t tempt fate” policy.
He wondered what she’d think if he taught her that rule—don’t tempt fate—and burst out laughing.
She pivoted to face him. “What?”
“I just thought of something when I looked at you.”
Her face fell in dismay. “I look funny?”
He sobered. “No.” The words you’re beautiful almost popped out of his mouth, but he caught them again. “I told you, you’re perfect. Stella did a perfect job.” He quickly scanned the tables and said, “This way. My invitation says we’re at table thirty-one.”
As they searched for their table, they said hello to various couples and exchanged pleasantries. Dean introduced Kristen to everyone, but he didn’t really pause long enough to talk with anyone, finally understanding Jason’s strategy. He’d already called all the brokerage houses. He didn’t need to say any more. What he needed to do was look calm and confident, happy to be out with a pretty girl.
When they paused to say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Norman Jenkins, Kristen said, “Mrs. Jenkins, your necklace is beautiful. Is it an heirloom?”
The tall, thin woman beamed. “Why, yes. It belonged to my grandmother.”
“It’s stunning.” Kristen turned to Dean. “Isn’t it?”
He stole a peek at her. It might be weird for him to compliment a necklace, but Kristen pulled it off easily and had also put him in a position where he could simply agree and probably look like a nice guy.
“Yes. It’s beautiful.”
Mrs. Jenkins caught Kristen’s hand. “It’s so kind of you to notice. These days everyone seems to be captivated by new and shiny.” She pressed her hand over the brooch-like necklace, which—surrounded by untold carats of diamonds—sparkled like a bonfire. “I prefer old and familiar.”
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