Page 71 of Santa's Baby
18
REUBEN
It’s been years since I’ve been excited to pull into my own driveway. I take the bouquet of roses and orchids from the passenger seat, smiling to myself as I grab the can of squirty cream. My heart is thumping as I put my key in the lock. I resist the urge to shouthoney, I’m home!as I step inside, although that’s how I’m feeling.
This house feels like home again.
Or so I think until I find the gorgeous Tiffany sitting at the breakfast bar with a stare like thunder. Her eyes are red, and she swipes a fresh tear from her cheek as she glares at me.
“Why did you do it?! What’s going on?!” she shouts, and my heart sinks as I hear the crack in her voice.
I lay the flowers down on the counter and place the can of cream by their side.
“What do you mean, what’s going on? Has something happened?”
She holds up her phone, even though the screen is blank, and the pieces slot into place as she jabs a finger at it.
“Don’t play dumb. You cancelled my bookings! I had Orla on my case about it, asking why, and I had nothing to tell her, since I didn’t do it. YOU did, didn’t you?”
Shit. I hold up my hands.
“There is nothing to worry about, Tiff. Let me explain.”
“Nothing to worry about?!” She wipes away another tear. “I’ve been shitting myself, Reuben. Absolutely fucking shitting myself!”
I approach calmly, battling the urge to grab her and hold her tight.
“You can reinstate your bookings if you want to. Every single one of them. You won’t have lost any revenue, I assure you. There will be no comeuppance from Orla or the team.” I pause on the other side of the breakfast bar, swallowing as she tosses her phone on the counter and puts her hands over her face to hide her tears.
“Why did you do it? It could have pissed everyone off so bad, I’d lose my job.”
“Yes, it could, but it wouldn’t have. I’d have taken the fall myself, if I needed to.”
She stares at me in disbelief. “Why would you do that?! You’d be breaking worse rules than I would! It’s fucking insane!”
She has me on that. Itisfucking insane.
“May I?” I ask and point to the breakfast stool at her side. She nods, but pulls hers away to create some distance between us. It hurts, because that’s the last thing I want. I take a breath.
Trying to get my words in order while my thoughts are scattered all over the place is quite a task, so I take my time. She lets me, her breaths hitching as her eyes burn mine.
“I apologise wholeheartedly for interfering with your calendar. I should have asked you first,” I say, and the red-haired goddess rolls her eyes.
“No shit, Sherlock. No wonder you’re the owner of an empire. Your IQ is off the scale.”
Even now, I love her dark humour. The cheekiness of her mouth, even in her pain. She folds her arms.
“So, why?” she asks. “Spit it out, Reuben. What’s going on?”
I offer the truth.
“I don’t know.”
She raises her eyebrows. “You don’t know? What do you mean you don’t know? You postponed every one of my bookings click after click, then blanked the notifications.”
“Yes, I did, and I shouldn’t have. Not without asking you first.”
“I was so fucking scared. I thought Orla was going to go ballistic, and call me out, or cancel my account. And then what? I’d just be Tiffany, a girl living in a tower with no fucking job.”