Page 41 of This Christmas
For the next few days, I do everything I can to avoid Zane. He’s trouble. Not he’s-going-to-get-me-busted-by-the-cops kind of trouble. But the kind where if you’re not careful, your heart might start feeling things it shouldn’t Like falling into an all-encompassing, this-is-my-soulmate, I-can’t-stop-thinking-about-you kind of feeling. The kind that will only end in heartbreak if things don't work out. Again.
No one, especially me, wants that kind of trouble.
Zane seems to understand I’m not interested, although by the casual winks I get when I pass by—all while I’m trying to ignore him—it’s clear he isn’t taking me seriously. Or he is but he’s determined to get in my good graces.
The news of his engagement ending has spread like wildfire. Noelle, who has only met Zane once, heard it from a friend, who heard it from a guy, who heard it from so and so, who heard it frommy dad.
Really?
My dad of all people, spreading gossip through the town like a school-aged kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar and blaming it on someone else?
Benny Holcomb is also on the let’s-forgive-Zane train, acting as if nothing happened. I get the whole bygones thing, but my memories are fresh. I lived them. He isn’t the one who had their life upended because their boyfriend decided a job was more important.
Maybe that was my problem—I put too much faith in one person, too much of me depended on Zane. Which honestly, isn’t fair to either of us, and is probably why I have avoided any serious relationships. They’re complicated and too many feelings end up getting hurt.
The bell announcing someone has entered my law practice chimes. I glance at the security monitor on my desk, showing me who is walking in. I groan at the sight of a tall man, looking a bit too familiar. Unfortunately for me, Noelle is off today. She invited me to go shopping with her, but I told her I needed to stay and prepare for tomorrow’s Christmas party for the kids. It’s my job—well the job of my truck—to deliver Santa to the party.
Zane comes into my office and casually leans against the door jamb.
I keep my expression as stoic as possible while my insides go topsy-turvy with stupid excitement because the attraction I’ve had for him, for like forever, is jumping up and down, screaming,pick me!I’ve never been a pick-me girl, and I don’t plan to start now just because he’s suddenly single.
He’s been single for a week.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Whitaker?”
I turn my focus on my computer monitor, bring up a random social media page, and pretend I’m working.
“Are you busy?”
“No, I’m just sitting here picking my nose while I wait for someone to steal the snowman in front of the church,” I say sarcastically. I’m the only attorney in town, representing just about everyone. Of course I’m busy.
Maybe.
“Such a nasty habit for a young woman.”
“I’m not young,” I tell him as I try to avoid eye contact with him but fail miserably. He smirks, knowing he’s caught me staring. At times, I can’t help it. I think he purposely stands the way he does, leaning there with his hands in his pockets and his ankles crossed. He’s flirting, and he knows it gets my attention.
Zane laughs and pushes off the door casing. I eye him warily and continue to frantically click on this website. He sits down, extending in legs and looking as relaxed as ever.
Inhaling deeply, I resign myself to having to speak to him. “What’s up?” I ask, as casually as possible.
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
It’s not a question, but a demand.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why should I?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“No, we’re not, Zane.” There’s a folder on my deskand I pick it up and move to the other side for no other reason other than to make myself look busy.
He rolls his eyes. “We are. You don’t want to admit it.”
Is he right? It’s hard to say. If Zane left tomorrow, would I be sad? Would I miss him?