The Christmas Project: A laugh-out-loud romance from bestselling author Maxine Morrey. Maxine Morrey
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‘Oh bloody hell!’ I burst out.
Michael’s face creased into a brief grin that faded as quickly as it had shown. ‘I can see why Janey likes you.’
I didn’t know what to say to that so I said nothing. But as the silence grew longer, my client seemed disinclined to fill it, happy, it seemed, just to lounge against the counter and drink his coffee. His gaze fell on me and the intensity of his eyes gave off the feeling that he could see much deeper than I was comfortable with. Which, of course, was ridiculous. I knew that. But still. I could also see why he was apparently never short of women to take up to his soulless bedroom. It wasn’t just the good looks. It was easy to see how those eyes and that gaze could be used to make you feel like you were the only person around, even in a room full of people. Or a bar full of alcohol.
‘What are you thinking?’
‘What?’ I asked, my voice coming out a little more squeaky than usual and colour flushing up my neck.
‘You had a very…interesting…expression on your face.’
I wasn’t sure what that meant but I did know I had absolutely no intention of telling my client that I’d been thinking about how easy it must be for him to pick up women in bars. I knew he’d just take it as a compliment. I’d hit myself in the back of the head with that snow shovel before I admitted to that.
‘I was just thinking about the best place to start.’
Michael drained his coffee mug, watching me over the rim. ‘Right,’ he said, giving me the distinct impression that he didn’t believe a word I’d just said.
‘And what did you decide?’
Thankfully I had actually been planning the best way to go about this particular case on the Tube on the way over so I had a quick answer ready.
‘I think the best thing to do is to start with your office. It’s obviously where you spend most of your time when you’re at home, and you told me yourself you find it difficult to locate anything quickly. Getting that into a better state will make it a better place to work and eliminate the stress of not being able to find things when you’re working to deadlines. If there’s anything work related in any of the other rooms, they need to come into your office now so that we can see exactly what we have.’
He gave me another of those assessing looks.
‘Who says it’s where I spend most of my time? You’re making me sound like some sort of workaholic.’
‘Which, according to Janey, is exactly what you are. And, whilst I can’t help with that, I can at least help you be one in a nicer space.’
‘I didn’t realise you and my sister had been discussing me quite so much.’
I pulled my notes out of bag and gave a little laugh. ‘Don’t worry. It was a very brief conversation when she asked me to do this with you. And she mentioned it again yesterday evening when you put her on speakerphone.’
‘So she did. And what else did she tell you?’
I headed out into the hallway and stepped over what looked like a piece of bike engine and hung my bag from one of the coat hooks on the wall.
‘Is that what you tripped over earlier?’ I asked, stepping back over the item again.
Michael, having followed me, looked down at it and frowned.
‘Probably. Stop changing the subject.’
I shook my head. Add tenacious to the list.
‘For goodness’ sake, what are you worried about? Janey told me you were planning to host Christmas this year, that you got divorced two years ago and since then the house has got into a bit of a state as you’re a total workaholic and – I quote – “a bit of an untidy bugger”. That’s all, I promise. And as you’ve given me little else, that’s pretty much still all I know. Oh, apart from the fact that your one-night stands don’t get given a house tour. There. That is the total sum of my knowledge about you. Happy?’
‘Ecstatic.’ The flat voice was back. ‘Shall we head to the office then?’
‘Absolutely.’
Seriously. The quicker I got this over with the better.
***
Janey was waiting at a table when I pushed my way through the Friday night crowd at the pub.
‘Sorry I’m late. Have you been here long?’ I asked as I leaned over and gave her a big hug, discarding layers of outerwear as I did so.
‘No, not long. Someone was just leaving their table as I got here so I jumped at it.’
‘Well done. Shall we order? I’m starving. My appointments ended up changing today and the last thing I ate was a fun-size Mars Bar about half past ten this morning.’
‘You must be starving! I’d be chewing on my own arm by now.’
‘Hence the long sleeves.’ I winked.
Janey grinned and waved at a waiter. She had the most beautiful smile and, as usual, it did the trick.
‘What can I get you, ladies?’
We quickly ordered, barely looking at the menu we knew so well. The waiter stepped away and was immediately swallowed up by the crowd.
‘So, how’s your week been?’ I asked Janey as another waiter appeared and placed our drinks on the table.
‘Oh, not bad. The kids were both down with this fever thing that’s going around, so that was fun.’
‘Oh no! Are they better now?’
‘Yeah,’ Janey said, taking a sip of her orange juice. ‘Thank goodness. It only lasted a few days but it was pretty miserable for them.’
‘And how are you?’
Janey smiled. ‘Tired, feeling enormous and gasping for a drink. Aside from that…’
‘You are not enormous! You’re like the poster girl for pregnancy – all glowy and blooming.’
‘Blooming uncomfortable, right now. Honestly, I’m sure he’s just doing the bladder bounce for amusement. The men in our family have a mischievous streak. Excuse me. I need the visit the ladies’. Again.’
‘Do you want me to come with you?’
She smiled and I briefly recognised the family likeness. Unfortunately, I’d only seen a glimpse of that same smile from her brother, unlike Janey who smiled easily and often.
‘No darling, I’m fine. Honestly.’
She patted my shoulder as she headed off. I watched, trying to resist the urge to jump up and scoot round my friend, insisting everyone clear a path. And then I laughed when a group of lads, a little worse the wear, did the job for me. Janey flashed them that winning smile and giggled