"I don't hate sleep. I value productivity." He's already up, moving around the room with that infuriating morning energy. "And you have an HR meeting at two. You need to eat breakfast, go home and change, which reminds me, tonight we should talk about getting some of your clothes over here for when you spend the night, and then you need to get to work?—"
"I get it, I get it." I sit up, rubbing my eyes. “You are a very bossy morning person.”
"You like it."
"I'm starting to question that."
He appears beside the bed, already dressed in slacks and a button-down, holding a mug of hot cocoa. "Liar."
I take the drink, inhale the steam. "Fine. I like you, but the morning person part? Still questionable."
He kisses the top of my head. "I’ve made breakfast, come on."
By six-thirty, I'm fed, dressed in yesterday's clothes, and talking to Justin through Bluetooth as I drive back to myapartment. The sun is just starting to rise, painting the mountains gold.
"Nervous?" he asks.
"About the HR meeting? Terrified."
"Don't be. We're doing this right. Being honest and transparent."
"What if they say we can't be together?"
"They won't. But if they try, I'll handle it."
"How?"
"By reminding them that we're both adults, we're disclosing properly, and there's no policy against consensual relationships." There’s a pause on the line and then, "and if they push back, I'll escalate it and remind them that I own the park. I’m only going to them out of respect and to set an example for the employees on how to proceed. This isn't negotiable, Holly. You're not negotiable."
The fierceness in his voice makes my chest tight. "Okay." I pull in front of my apartment. “I’m home.”
"One-thirty. My meeting. Two o'clock, yours. After, we'll know where we stand with HR."
"And then?"
"And then we move forward. Together. I'll see you at work soon. Don’t be late.”
"I won’t if you let me off the phone," I joke.
"And tonight, you're coming back to my place. And I'm going to take very good care of you after what I'm sure will be a stressful day."
Heat floods through me. "Is that a promise?"
"It's a guarantee."
Work is chaos.
It starts with a planning session for the "Christmas in July" event, and the entire creative team is arguing about themes while guests flood in for the regular attractions. I'm pulled in six directions at once, helping with the planning session, covering the Santa House, fixing a malfunctioning animatronic in the sleigh display.
I barely have time to think, which is probably good. If I thought too much about the HR meeting looming at two o'clock, I'd spiral.
"Holly!" Mrs. Jensen waves me over. "Can you grab the backup Santa suit from storage? Jim spilled coffee on his."
"On it."
I head to the storage building, digging through costume racks until I find a clean suit. As I'm pulling it down, I hear voices outside. Male voices. One of them is Justin's.
I shouldn't eavesdrop. But I freeze anyway.
