Read My Hot Holiday for Free Online Page B

leave my bed?  Could he be serious?  There’s probably a better chance of growing daisies in Hell, but who am I to say?  The drunken divorcee who just let a stranger do things to her that children and young adults should never hear about?  Yep.  Not exactly firing on all cylinders, Jillian!
    "Yes, business is business.  Mergers are complicated," he tosses out sternly over his shoulder as he zips his pants and runs his hand across his face.  He begins to retrace his steps, and I wrap myself in a blanket and follow him, still unconvinced that he isn't just trying to bolt from my love shack.  Oh God.  My drunken words haunt me.  Did I REALLY tell him I was in a love shack on the phone?  Life would be a lot easier if conversations were erasable, like video.  Better yet, it would be perfect if we could instruct people to ignore would we just said, like when we attempt to leave voicemail and have the option to delete it and start over.  That’s beside the point!  FOCUS!
    I pick up the part of the blanket that's dragging behind me and walk over to the brown leather sofa, trying not to give away how terribly mortified I am.  I sit down, run my eye over the area, and spot a phone in the crevice between the cushion and the arm.  Shit.  It's just mine, isn't it?  Somehow I thought I was about to be a hero.  Oh well.  All these phones look alike these days.   I reach for it and it begins to vibrate in my hand.  Who is calling me?  Not now.  Wait, this better not be my mother again.  The screen illuminates and my boss’ name flashes across the display.  Wait?  Why is MY boss calling me on a holiday?  This makes absolutely no sense to me.  Jake spots me as I'm about to answer the call, and I suddenly feel a dart of panic as I see him lunging toward me.
    "What are you doing?  That's my phone!!!"
    "What?  No, no I think it's mine..." I say, forcing myself to respond in a calm tone as he snatches the object of desire from my hand.
    He races to answer, and I expect this to go from bad to worse.  What will my boss think of a man answering my phone?
    Then, the proverbial train wreck begins to unfold right before my bloodshot eyes.
    "Chuck...I’m so glad to hear from you.  Merry Christmas.  Have you just landed?" He suddenly sounds like the businessman I first laid eyes on.
    Okay, what on earth is going on?  Jake Sterns is currently on the phone with MY boss.  He is silent for a moment, and I feel panic grab me by the throat.  I know I drank a lot last night, and I'm still riding the high from the best sex I've ever had in my entire life.  That can't possibly make me delusional, can it?
    I stare at him pacing the floor -- phone to ear -- in disbelief, feeling my face prickling with shock and residual lust.  This is a nightmare.  Now, like a bad Lifetime movie, I begin to understand how this is about to end.  Jake is buying my company.  He is the man behind all the rumors we've heard for months at work.  They begin to flash like lighting into my head.
    “A merger could mean job cuts around the first of the year.”
    "Publishing companies are dying a slow death.”
    "Copywriters and editors will be the first to go."
    OH DEAR GOD!  I just slept with the man who is just days from firing my ass!
    Now I feel as if I’m going to cry.
    "Okay, well, I will call my partner right away and have an answer for you by midnight,” he snaps, abruptly ending the conversation.  He pivots around to see me staring at him in shock.
    "Where were we?" Jake lowers his voice.  "Sorry about that."
    "It's no problem," I say, trying to sound focused and sober.  As his words and actions sink in, I'm a bit dazed.
    "So, you have to leave?  On Christmas morning?  Sorry I couldn't help but hear your midnight deadline,” I question, working to choke back the tears.
    "Yeah...it's a done deal.  I just have to get my partner on board, and we'll be the new owners of Wilshire Publishing."  His voice strengthens with