Hat?
She takes a black box off the top of the rail and puts it on the counter beside the costume.
I’m far too curious now. “What costume did he order?”
“Scrooge.”
I press my lips together to stifle a laugh.
“Something funny?” the woman asks.
“No. No. Damon will make an excellent Scrooge.” I pick up the costume, loop it over my arm, grab the hat box, and whistle ’Jingle Bell Rock’ as I leave the store.
Damon will be a perfect Scrooge, and a sexy one at that. Can Scrooge be sexy? If it’s Damon in a costume, yes. Maybe, if I’m lucky, he’ll say ‘bah humbug’. It’s a thought that shouldn’t make me shiver with anticipation, but it does. Now I’mreallylooking forward to driving him to the charity ball.
3
DAMON
We’re behind on the number of orders we need to wrap, package, and post by the end of the day. The phones in customer service are running off the hook, with customers complaining that we’ve already cut off ordering in time for Christmas. It’s the twenty-first of December, for fuck’s sake. Don’t they realise how overloaded the postal service is at this time of year? Do they think we’re going to hand-deliver their giant dildo, complete with realistic veins? No. No, we’re not.
I’ve convinced half a dozen people to work overtime tonight, which means I’m staying late, too. I don’t want to risk a single package failing to get to its destination in time for Christmas. We should have cut Christmas ordering off sooner. Other online companies did, but Nigel loves cutting it fine. I wouldn’t be so pissed about it if he hadn’t fucked off and left me to deal with the headaches his decision has caused.
I’m disturbed by a bright knock on the office door. I grunt a ‘come in’ and glance up in time to see Rowan slip into the room, holding a clothing bag and a hatbox.
He shuts the door and grins. “Personal delivery! Where do you want it?”
“Anywhere.” I’m beyond caring about tomorrow night’s charity ball. If things aren’t in control here, I won’t even want to go.
Who am I kidding? I don’t want to go full stop. These events aren’t my thing at all. Nigel loves them. I’d rather spend a night with friends than sit at a large table, making small talk with strangers, and eating food that I haven’t been able to choose.
“Do you know what the menu is tomorrow night?” I ask.
Why would Rowan know? He’s a driver, not a PA. I don’t even need a driver. I could rent a car and get myself to the ball. I don’t own a car, because I live near excellent public transport links, and most of the time I’m heading into central London anyway. Nigel doesn’t need a car, but the success of the business is allowing him to fulfil a childhood dream of owning big, flashy, expensive cars. Cars that he’s too nervous to drive, hence Rowan.
He lays the costume carefully over the back of an armchair and pops the hat box on the floor. “No, sorry, but I can find out.”
I don’t know Rowan well, but every time I’ve seen him, he’s struck me as being irrepressibly cheerful. He has a bright smile that always stretches to his grey-blue eyes, which occasionally flash green when he laughs. He’s a redhead with hundreds of pale freckles, which are frankly adorable. I draw an instant line under the thought. He’s an employee, which means I’m not allowed to notice how attractive he is.
“That’s not your job,” I say.
“I don’t mind. Nigel pays me to hang around all day in case he needs driving somewhere; I might as well make myself useful while I’m here.”
I want to grumble that it’s a waste of money paying Rowan to ‘hang around’. Itisa waste of money. It’s a good thing Elevated is successful and thriving, as it allows Nigel to get away with being frivolous.
“Is there anything else you need help with?” he asks. “I could make myself useful in fulfilment. I know how to wrap a vibrator.”
The air rushes out of my lungs. I school my expression quickly, pinching my lips together. “That would be helpful, thank you. They’re a bit snowed under at the moment.”
He clicks his fingers. “Ah. Thanks for reminding me. Snow is forecast for tomorrow night, but it’s not due to get heavy until after we’d have arrived at the ball.”
“That’s not a problem then, is it?”
“Hopefully not. But, as you mentioned earlier, the venue is in the middle of nowhere, so if it lies, it might make leaving tricky the next morning.”
Wonderful.
“The roads will be gritted, won’t they?”
