“For your father,” he finishes quietly, watching my reaction carefully.“Since Brookman stole his original snowman display, I thought it was only fair for your father to get something even better.”His lips quirk slightly.“Consider it evening the score.”
My chest tightens.This man—this infuriatingly perfect man—drove to my hometown, learned my family’s traditions, noticed my father’s rivalry with Mr.Brookman, and arranged for a midnight delivery of the most extravagant Christmas display I’ve ever seen.
“But—how did you—when did you—” I gesture helplessly at the display.
“I made some calls the other day,” he says simply, like orchestrating a covert midnight installation is just another day.“They were supposed to arrive after you went to sleep.I was going to have it set up by morning.”He glances at the men, who are already unpacking rigging equipment.“Your father would wake up to it already on the roof.”
“On the roof?”I squeak.
“Where else?”He raises an eyebrow.“Brookman’s display is on the roof.We need the high ground.”
A laugh bubbles up, unexpected and delighted.“We?”
“I’m invested now.”His expression is serious, but there’s a glimmer of something in his eyes—mischief, maybe.Satisfaction.“Your father and I are going to crush the competition.”
I stare at him, at this man who’s supposed to be my cold, demanding boss but who’s currently standing in my front yard at midnight, orchestrating an elaborate Christmas surprise for my father.Who’s taken on a neighborhood decorating rivalry like it’s a hostile corporate takeover.
“You’re ridiculous,” I say, but I’m grinning so wide my cheeks hurt.
“I prefer ‘thorough,’” he corrects, that devastating half-smile playing at his lips.Then he nods toward the Brookman house across the street.I turn to look, and my smile freezes.
Mr.Brookman’s roof is completely bare.The elaborate snowman display, the one that’s been mocking my father for three years, is gone.Vanished.Just empty space where the massive light-up family used to stand.
My eyes widen in horror.I whip back around to Alexander.“What did you do?”I whisper.
His expression doesn’t change.Calm.Composed.Utterly unrepentant.“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”
“Alexander—”
“I won’t tell,” he says smoothly, cutting me off.“And you shouldn’t ask.”
I stare at him, my mouth opening and closing like a fish.“You didn’t.Tell me you didn’t?—”
“I’m not telling you anything.”His smile widens just slightly, dangerous and pleased.“Plausible deniability, Olivia.For both of us.”
“Oh, my god.”I press my hands to my face.“You stole Mr.Brookman’s display.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to!”I hiss, gesturing wildly at the empty roof.“It’s right there!Or not there, actually!”
“Interesting observation.”He’s clearly fighting back a grin now.“Though I couldn’t possibly comment on the whereabouts of missing property.”
I should be appalled.Should be marching over to wake up Mr.Brookman and confess everything.Should be demanding Alexander return whatever he took.But instead, I find myself fighting back a laugh because my uptight, by-the-book, follows-every-regulation boss just orchestrated a Christmas decoration heist to settle a three-year-old neighborhood rivalry for my father.
“You’re insane,” I breathe.
“I think you mean ‘committed,’” he counters, stepping closer.His hand finds my waist, pulling me against him.“Your father was robbed.I’m simply restoring the balance.”
“That’s not how the law works.”
“Good thing I have excellent lawyers, then.”His thumb traces circles on my hip.“Though again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.I’m just a man who ordered a perfectly legal Christmas display for his girlfriend’s father.”
The emphasis on ‘perfectly legal’ makes me snort despite myself, and the warmth in his voice when he says ‘girlfriend’ makes my stomach flip, even though I know it’s pretend.For a moment, I just allow myself to wonder what if this was real.A thread of yearning wraps itself around me.
One of the installers approaches, speaking in low tones about load-bearing calculations and electrical requirements.Alexander nods, asking questions, pointing at the roof.And I just stand there, simultaneously horrified and oddly touched by his criminal dedication to my family’s happiness.
“There’s no way they can set that thing up without waking everybody in the house,” I mutter in awe.
