Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Okay, no need for a proposal! It’s just soup. See you in a few :-)
With that I put my phone away and headed for the deli. By the time I reached Conor’s office building my feet were aching. It served me right for walking so far in heels. The security guard let me in after I gave my name and I headed up in the lift.
His office door was closed when I reached it so I gave a soft knock. A moment later it opened and Conor beamed at me. “Yvonne!” he said, eyes going to the bag over my arm that held the containers of soup and then to the other bag with his champagne. His attention trailed over my face and hair, then my mouth. Though we’d been communicating by text we hadn’t seen each other in weeks and it was like he couldn’t help taking me in. I was doing the same, running my eyes over his stubble and tight cut hair, his broad shoulders and tailored suit.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, reaching up to loosen his tie. “Here, let me take those.”
“Hello Conor,” I greeted, allowing him to relieve me of my bags as I stepped inside his corner office and unbuttoned my coat. It was a decent sized space with a view of Midtown. I walked over to the window to take in the full view, settling my coat and scarf over my arm, while he put the soup on his desk. He retrieved the champagne from the tote bag I’d carried it in and scanned the label.
“This is perfect,” he said. “How much do I owe you?”
“Ah, yes, the painful part. It wasn’t cheap, I’m afraid.” I dug around in my bag to find the invoice before handing it to Conor. He let out a low whistle at the price. “My parents better tell me I’m their favourite after I give them this,” he said with a grin. He set aside the invoice and placed the champagne in a drawer before grabbing his phone. “I’ll Paypal you. What’s your email?”
I rattled it off as I settled my coat and scarf over the seat in front of his desk and sat down. Eagerly, I opened my soup, too starved to wait. A ping sounded as I pulled off the lid on one container before sliding the other across to Conor. Pulling out my phone, I saw the money had already come through, then frowned because he sent too much.
“Oh. You’ve paid me two hundred dollars extra. Let me send you a refund.”
“Keep it,” he replied. “Consider it a finder’s fee.”
“Conor, that’s too generous,” I protested but he held up a hand.
“It’s Christmas. If I can’t be generous at this time of year then what’s the point?”
At this I relented. Who was I to refuse two hundred dollars? I had spent a good deal of time locating the bottle for him, then negotiating a price, after all. Sliding my phone back in my bag, I said, “I guess Ev and I will be adding some extra fancy cheeses to our cheese board selection this year.”
“Didn’t she mention it to you yet?” Conor said as he opened his soup and inhaled the steam.
“Mention what?”
“Dylan invited you both to come stay at the townhouse with us for Christmas. He’s been planning the food for weeks. Fairly sure he’s spent more time procuring an organic free range turkey than you did finding that bottle of champagne.”
“Oh,” I replied, taken off guard. “No, Ev hasn’t mentioned it, but we’ve both been so busy. It must’ve slipped her mind.” I paused, chewing my lip. My heart filled at the idea of spending Christmas in that glorious townhouse surrounded by friends, by people I’d known back in Dublin. I’d spent far too many years on my own for Christmas when I couldn’t afford to fly home, which was why I was a little overwhelmed at the invitation. I wanted to accept it, but I also knew that spending time under the same roof as Conor might not be wise. I was, after all, allowing myself fanciful daydreams about being married to the man. And all because he’d made a silly joke in a text.
“So,” he hedged, eyeing me speculatively. “Are you going to come?”
Want flared in my chest and I found that I couldn’t say no, even if I knew I should. I wanted a big family Christmas too much to turn it down. “Yes, sure. If Ev’s going then I’ll come, too.”
His expression warmed then, and we spent the next few minutes quietly eating our soup. The dumplings were deliciously filling, the mild broth a salve against the cold weather outside. My feet ached in my heels so I discreetly slipped them off. It didn’t escape Conor’s notice though, as his eyes wandered down my legs to my feet. I wore flesh coloured tights, not a particularly sexy item, and yet there was something in his eyes that made me feel truly, utterly desired. I realised that Conor still wanted me, despite me knocking him back last month, and that knowledge was both anxiety inducing and thrilling.