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Authors: Stephanie Rowe

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BOOK: Jingle This!
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Point for Kyle. His restraint was probably because Heidi was engaged. As hot and heavy as Kyle had been with Angie's sister and as much as Angie thrived on gossip about what a jerk he was—not that there was nearly enough negative gossip to satisfy her—he'd never been linked with a woman who was already taken. It was so nice to know the playboy heartbreaker had morals.

"Nice outfit," he said to Heidi.

"Thanks. It's my salute to Santa." Heidi glanced at Angie, probably to make sure Angie was still vertical and hadn't crumpled onto the floor in swooning awe of the man. "Can I help you with anything, Kyle?"

"Nope. I'm here to see Angie."

Angie tensed. He was there to see her? Since when had he remembered she existed, let alone had a need to see her? He wasn't on the creative side of the business, so their paths rarely crossed at work.

Oh sure, there'd been a time when she'd thought he'd noticed her. The first five months she'd been at New Age Marketing and they'd been working on that project for that footwear company. She and Kyle had spent many late nights at the office, and even some at his condo. Private jokes, pizza delivery...she'd fallen hard for Kyle, and she'd been so certain he'd fallen too, but was too shy to make a move.

That was why she'd recruited her sister to help her. Sheila was a whiz with men, and could get almost any man she set her eyes on. The plan had been for Sheila to join Angie and Kyle at dinner. Sheila was supposed to assess Kyle and then create a plan to make Kyle throw Angie to the floor and make mad passionate love to her.

Only it was Sheila he'd ended up with by dessert, leaving Angie to rebound into the arms of Roger. Ever since, Angie had made sure to stay off Kyle's projects and keep out of his way. It had taken Roger's undying devotion to finally chase Kyle from her heart, but even then, there had been moments when her thoughts had betrayed her.

For the last two years, Roger had been completely and utterly devoted to her, putting Angie in front of work, family, and friends. He'd constantly surprised her with flowers, chocolates, cute stuffed animals—anything he thought would make her smile. It was exactly the ego-boosting dedication that her broken heart had needed to mend. He'd shown her that she deserved to be treated well, and had helped her rebuild her heart after Kyle had shattered it.

That was why she'd been so blown away by Roger breaking up with her. From dedicated, devoted lover to ex-boyfriend overnight? It made no sense, and she'd been utterly unprepared to be dumped, hence the misery and depression.

And in a completely unexpected and somewhat horrifying turn of events, despite the utter destruction of her soul, now that she no longer had Roger playing downfield blocker, her body was reacting to the sight of Kyle as if those three years hadn't elapsed. She was catapulted back into the memories of those late night meetings, those intimate discussions. She remembered every touch. The time he'd massaged her shoulder when it began to cramp at three in the morning. The way he watched her out of the corner of his eyes to see if she was going to laugh at his joke. The strength of his shoulders beneath her hand when she'd leaned past him to get something off the dining room table he was sitting at.

She remembered everything, and so did her body. Ripples of desire pulsed through her, and her heart began to race at the mere sight of him looming in her doorway, dwarfing the office with the width of his shoulders.

Dammit. She hated her hormones. Total traitors. The last thing she needed was to fall for yet another guy who didn't want her. First Kyle, then Roger, and now Kyle again? Was she really that stupid? No. Definitely not. She folded her arms across her chest and tried to think uncharitable thoughts about Kyle's shoulders. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"The story you wrote for Swift," he said. "The one that you posted last night."

She'd barely begun to relax—impersonal discussions about her good work she could handle—when Heidi cursed. Angie snapped her gaze to Heidi. She narrowed her eyes and looked between her friend and Kyle. "What exactly is wrong with my article?"

"I didn't copy edit it," Heidi said to Kyle. "She submitted it without going through me. I never would have let it through."

"You're dismissed," Kyle said to Heidi.

"I'm fired? But I didn't even see the article!" Heidi wailed. "I need this job!"

Kyle grimaced and looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in the room. "I didn't mean fired. I meant, you can leave. I need to talk to Angie alone."

Heidi's tears vanished immediately, and she shrugged. "Oh. Well. Okay, then. See you guys around."

Alone? He wanted to see her alone? The last man who'd wanted to spend time alone with her had dumped her and broken her heart. But seeing as how Kyle had already broken her heart when he'd chosen her sister over her, he couldn't exactly do that again, could he? So technically, she was immune from his heart-breaking-power now.

Excellent.

Angie smiled and watched him shut the door of her office. It was a good thing she was immune or she might be feeling a little bit dizzy from being locked in a room with Kyle Black.

But seeing as how she
"was
immune to anything and everything Kyle, she wasn't feeling dizzy and was, in fact, completely relaxed. But she couldn't quite keep her gaze from wandering to the mistletoe above the door, and wondering what would happen if she'd been standing beneath it when he had walked in… Ack! What was she doing? Damn mistletoe!

She dragged her gaze off the offending plant and focused on Kyle. "What do I owe this visit to? I think it's the first time you've ever ventured this low down the totem pole at work." Dammit. That made it sound like she kept track of how close he came to her office. "I mean, that's what I've heard. You know, from people. Personally, I'm too busy to keep track of your whereabouts." Gee, that sounded a whole lot better. It was amazing to think she actually made a living from her ability to manipulate the English language.

Kyle looked wary, and he eased over to the far side of her office, which wasn't actually very far. Despite shtupping the big boss for the last two years, Angie still had the smallest office in the company. She and Roger had agreed that keeping her in the less desirable office space was necessary to protect her from allegations of favoritism. It had seemed logical at the time, but seeing as how she was the best copy writer in the entire office by a long shot, it was beginning to feel more like an excuse not to give her what she deserved.

She pulled out a sticky and made a note to talk to Roger about getting a bigger office. Or maybe she'd email him. If she actually spoke to him, she might accidentally stab him with a letter opener, and that could cause talk. How could he have made her feel like a treasured prize for the last two years, only to dump her on her butt without any warning?

"Angie, about your story."

Ah… her story. A sense of calm settled over her. As crazy as the rest of her life might become, her work always gave her a sense of pride and togetherness. It was the one place she was always queen. "What's up?'"

He gestured to the printout on her desk. "May I?"

"Sure." Kyle's hand came within eighteen inches of her when he went for the paper, and her pulse jumped. Oh, that wasn't good. Why did he still make her stomach jiggle? Kyle had been a phase that had quickly ended when he started doing the nasty with her sister. Nothing more.

She'd had to endure that relationship for almost six months. If she hadn't started dating Roger that Thanksgiving, it would have been far worse. Angie scowled.
"Stop thinking about Roger. Kyle. Either of them. Work. Think about work.
That was a good thing to think about. Her writing always made her feel better.

"Do you mind if I read you a few excerpts?" Kyle perched on the edge of her client chair, as if ready to spring away at a moment's notice. What was wrong with him? He was acting like he thought she was about to spring out of her chair and attack him with a candy cane.

Oh, crud. Was she giving off the desperate aura of a scorned woman? That couldn't be good. She managed a serene smile and settled back in her seat to listen. "Sure." It was always therapeutic to hear her own prose. Sometimes she amazed herself with what she came up with.

He started reading. "Love is an illusion specifically designed to lure you into a sense of complacency so your purported true love can destroy you emotionally." He looked up. "How is that supposed to make a man want to buy a diamond for his woman?"

"Well..." She hadn't really written that, had she?

"And how about this: 'During the hour the author spent with Max and Ethel discussing how the holidays rekindle their love, the author noted that Max checked out female passersby six times when he thought Ethel wasn't looking. Obviously, their love is an illusion, and it's just a matter of time until one or both of them are going to wake up alone and devastated.'"

Oh…. That was not good. "Are you sure you're reading my article? I'm quite positive I wouldn't have written that." But a black gloom was beginning to settle around her.

"And the moral of your story?" Kyle read on. "'In closing, the author would like to point out that even fifty-six years of marriage cannot be relied on. If you want to keep your spouse from leaving you, buy a couple pieces of expensive jewelry and try to bribe them into staying around. I can't promise it'll keep you from ending up alone, but at least you tried, right?'" He set it down. "What was that?"

"Let me see that." She snatched the paper from his hands and scanned it. Yes, that was her name on the by-line, and that was the couple she'd interviewed...but how had it come out like that? She felt her cheeks begin to burn and a terrible sense of failure began to crush her. "Umm..."

"It's awful."

Awful? She didn't write awful. Writing was the one thing she could always count on. "It's not that bad." Not that bad. Even "not bad" was unacceptable! What was wrong with her?

"Don't panic, Angie.
There had to be a redeeming moral to the article. Surely Kyle had just missed it. "Hang on a sec." She quickly scanned the paper, her heart sinking lower and lower as she realized that there was no redeeming quality to the story whatsoever. What had she done?

Kyle ran his hand through his hair and paced her office. Which meant he took one step in either direction before turning around. Needless to say, he gave that up in about one minute. "Listen, Angie, I heard that Roger dumped you."

Tears immediately sprang to her eyes before Angie even knew they were coming. Dammit. She needed to be better prepared than that. "Which is none of your business." Oh, great comeback. Surely he'd be humbled now.

"It's my business when it affects your work." He planted his hands on her desk and leaned forward.

Angie caught a whiff of something musky that rolled through her like the scent of a roaring fire on a cold winter night. He smelled incredible. Way more sophisticated and classy than Roger ever did. Roger had a tendency to overdo the cologne. The more the better was his philosophy. Not so with Kyle. There was just the slightest hint, as if it was leftover from yesterday, clinging to his skin with a caressing gentleness and... Wait a sec. "You think my breakup with Roger affected my writing?"

He lifted a brow. "You think there's another reason for what you wrote?"

Damn. Was he right? Had she actually let Roger take away her one talent? But even as the thought went through her mind, Angie realized Kyle might be right. That was completely unacceptable. No man deserved to be given the power to ruin her work. She was ending that fiasco now.

"From now on, every story goes through me before it goes to copy editing or anywhere else," Kyle said.

"What?" After one error, he was going to treat her like some neophyte incapable of self-editing? "That article was an aberration. You can be certain it won't happen again, and I don't need you checking up on me. You're not even in Creative. How can you edit my work?"

He gave her a grim look. "If today's article is great, then I won't have to make any corrections, right?"

"Trust me, you won't." She was going to write the best damn story about this miserable holiday season and the destructive nature of perceived love. People everywhere would swoon and then rush off to Swift to buy tons of jewelry to celebrate the mind-destroying, hateful, stupid love in their lives. Ahem… what she
"meant
was to celebrate the harmonious, fulfilling and everlasting love in their lives.
"Get it together, Angie.

"What is post time?" Kyle asked.

"Midnight. But I'll get it done by five so I don't get stuck at the office." That would be all she needed, to be chained down at work while Roger was off celebrating the holidays. She loved Christmas, and she wasn't going to let some jerk or a job keep her from getting out there and finding the blasted joy in her life!

Kyle nodded. "Then have it in my inbox by noon so I have time to edit it."

"Noon?" She looked at her watch. "It's almost eleven."

"It's five minutes after ten."

So he was already starting with his over-picky corrections? Clearly, working with him was going to be a constant stream of fun and delight. Where was the easy camaraderie they'd had three years ago? He hadn't micromanaged her then. They'd just brainstormed together and created an amazing campaign that had been New Age's first big deal.

He set the article on her desk, and she noticed the tense set to his jaw. "I want the first draft in my inbox by noon. And make it happy, cheerful and full of the Christmas spirit and romance. Got it?"

And to think she'd cried for three days when he'd shared that cab home with her sister that night. Hah. Who had time for arrogant, controlling, domineering men? "You're really going to review all my work?"

"I'll read it, then bring it down and we'll discuss the changes I want made. And the process will continue until you get it right. Any questions?"

BOOK: Jingle This!
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