Read Jenny Lopez Saves Christmas for Free Online Page B

grimaced at the GPS and made a silent prayer for it not to snow until we arrived at the house. The forecast did not look good. ‘I hope you’re feeling chatty.’
    â€˜I’m tired,’ she whined. ‘Can we stop for coffee?’
    â€˜Sadie, we aren’t even on the road yet.’ I turned to give her the full force of my stare. ‘This is going to be a really long trip if you’re going to start like this.’
    She pouted, sticking out the big full bottom lip that, if I had my way, was about to make us both a lot of money. It was hard to be mad at her now that she represented not just a pain-in-the-ass roommate but dollar signs. ‘Why isn’t Angela driving up with us?’
    â€˜Angie has to close the mag,’ I explained. ‘So she’s coming later with James and Jeremy.’
    â€˜Oh, I love James!’ she said, concentrating her attention on her toes.
    â€˜Yeah, no one like Jeremy.’ I gave voice to what went unspoken, as was so often the way. ‘But it’s the holidays and Angie wanted to invite James, so we’re stuck with him. Apparently he’s an amazing chef, so he can help with lunch.’
    â€˜Are they bringing the food?’ she asked, dubiously staring into the back seat and finding nothing but Christmas decorations, boxes of beautiful (and secretly professionally wrapped) gifts and a tasteful yet festive selection of outfits. ‘Because I don’t see any food?’
    â€˜It’s being delivered this afternoon,’ I said. ‘Along with the tree. Trust me, it’s all taken care of. I have Christmas completely covered.’
    My night and morning of passion with Joseph C. Davies had really kicked my ass into gear. I’d stopped moping and started to get my act together. As well as writing the world’s most kick-ass pitch for Bertie Bennett, I’d planned the most perfect Christmas for me and the gang. For the first time since I’d walked past the Rockefeller Center tree and not even looked up, I was excited about the holidays.
    â€˜Have you heard from him?’ Sadie asked as I turned on my blinker and eased out into Manhattan traffic. Luckily the streets were always quiet over the holidays so I was less worried about being ploughed into the Hudson by a manic taxi driver. ‘Mister First Date Sleepover?’
    â€˜His name is Joseph C. Davies,’ I said, over-enunciating every syllable. ‘And you should take a couple of seconds to remember that, because you’re gonna be hearing it a lot.’
    â€˜Yeah?’ She laughed, tightening the topknot on the top of her head. ‘Is that right?’
    â€˜Yeah,’ I replied, scratching my eyebrow as we headed towards the Holland Tunnel and laughing right along with her. ‘I swear to God, Sadie, this man is my soul mate.’
    â€˜And you worked that out on the first date?’
    â€˜I worked that out when he dropped five hundred dollars on a wallet for his assistant in Barneys,’ I said, flipping off an extremely brave delivery man on a bicycle who thought it was a good idea to cut across four lanes of traffic to make sure someone got their morning bagel. ‘The date just confirmed everything.’
    â€˜What happened to never sleep with a man on the first date?’ Sadie, hardly a stranger to first-date hook-ups herself, clicked her tongue. ‘He’s not going to buy the cow if he can get the milk for free.’
    â€˜Dollface, he could buy the farm,’ I said, glancing over my shoulder. ‘But it’s not even about that. We just connected, you know? I mean, yeah, he’s super wealthy and he’s got a great job and our kids could probably get into any school they liked, but it’s deeper than that. I looked into his eyes and I just knew.’
    â€˜Knew what, other than that he had a seven-figure-salary and no plans on a Monday night?’
    â€˜That it would work.’ I ignored her