Crazy About The Boss. Teresa Southwick

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      “It’s good of you—”

      “No, it’s not. I’m not good.”

      “Okay. You’re bad. I can live with that.” For a split second, he flashed his carefree, charming Jack Valentine grin.

      Was his grin always that potent? Or did his uncharacteristic tension just make it seem more thrilling than usual? Not going there, she thought. “I can’t believe you played the because-you’re-the-boss card to get me here.”

      “Our difference of opinion showed no signs of letting up. In the interest of time, it seemed the expedient thing to do.”

      She’d disagreed because she hadn’t liked his attitude and now it was time for his reminder that he couldn’t walk all over her. “My being here makes no more sense now than it did before. Since when do you want me to come along? And what business couldn’t wait a day? More important, who does business on Christmas? It’s un-American.”

      “Then it’s a good thing we’re in Britain.”

      Did he just snap at her? That was out of character, too. But before she could demand to know what was going on with him, the car smoothly pulled to the curb in front of a restaurant. It was then she realized that by continuing their disagreement on a different continent, she’d missed seeing anything of London. It didn’t matter that it was too dark to see all that much, she really wanted to see London. At least he’d promised her a couple days there. That had finally broken down her resistance.

      “Why are we stopping here?” she asked.

      “It’s something I have to do.” There was an edge to his voice that said whatever he had to do was tantamount to a firing squad at dawn.

      There was an angry, dark look on his face that frightened her, mostly because she’d never seen it before. “What’s going on, Jack?”

      “I have to see my sister.”

      “Your sister?” If Maddie hadn’t been so shocked, she’d have come back with a brilliantly clever retort. But she was shocked and said exactly what she was thinking. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

      “Well, now you do.”

      “What else don’t I know?” she asked as the driver opened the door for them to get out.

      A lot, Jack thought, and he ignored the question, as he didn’t plan to enlighten her. He would see Emma and meet her husband. Duty fulfilled and he’d leave.

      Cold London air filled his lungs as he slid out of the car before her. He walked slowly toward the Bella Lucia restaurant he hadn’t been able to get out of fast enough twelve years ago. The gate he pushed open was familiar, as was the courtyard in front of the building. Small white lights twinkled in the shrubs and a subdued glow coming through the frosted windows pooled gold at his feet. There were people inside.

      His family. And he was on the outside looking in, a thought that opened up an empty feeling deep inside him.

      “Jack?”

      He looked at Maddie, grateful for her presence and determined not to let her know. It was just this once, because he wouldn’t let himself need anyone.

      “Let’s get this over with,” he said.

      “Way to make me even more joyful about missing out on the biggest holiday of the year.”

      Her sarcasm made him smile. Brutal honesty was what he counted on from Maddie. She’d never been more indispensable to him than she was at this moment.

      He pushed open the door, walked inside the restaurant and looked around. It was all different. Gone was the original Italian style and in its place was a trendy, smart, fashionable restaurant. A restaurant that went dead quiet as everyone turned and silently stared at him.

      He recognized his uncle John, in the center of the room with glass in hand for the traditional holiday toast. Robert Valentine stood beside him and Jack met his father’s gaze across the room. The rest of the family clustered on either side of the two men and looked from him to Robert. Jack would swear every last one of them were holding their breath. He could almost reach out and grab the friction out of the air.

      Maddie leaned over. “They’re all staring at us, Jack.”

      “I know.”

      “Do you realize everyone is looking at us as if I’m Scrooge and you’re the Ghost of Christmas Past? Are we crashing a private party?”

      “We are, yes.”

      Jack didn’t take his eyes off his father. Every muscle in his body tensed as he waited for the man who’d sent him packing to make the first move. The young woman beside Robert looked anxiously between them and the seconds ticked off like the timer on an explosive device.

      Finally she rushed over to him. “Jack, you came. I didn’t think you would.”

      “Emma?” He recognized the voice, but the petite, curvy young woman in front of him had been a gawky sixteen-year-old when he’d left. Now she was glamorous and sophisticated, her hair no longer light brown, but blonde shot with honey-colored highlights. “You’re all grown up.”

      “As are you. You’re just in time for the family toast.” She handed first him then Maddie a flute of champagne.

      “Merry Christmas, everyone.” His uncle John continued as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Here’s to a holiday season filled with health, happiness and success.” He held up his glass. “To family.”

      Murmurs of agreement filled the room as everyone sipped from their crystal flutes. Without drinking, Jack set his glass on the white linen cloth covering the table beside him.

      “Welcome home, Jack,” Emma said, even as she frowned at the champagne he’d abandoned.

      “This isn’t my home.”

      And as soon as he met his sister’s new husband, he and Maddie could get the hell out of here. He looked at her bright blonde hair and big blue eyes, letting himself feel the familiar tug for a beautiful woman. In her case he’d never given in to it because he respected her too much. She was different from the women he dated and his relationship with her was as sacred as the separation between church and state.

      Emma ignored his sharp words as she looked at Maddie. “Who’s this, then?”

      “Madison Ford. I’m Jack’s assistant.” Maddie held out her hand. “Call me Maddie. Or better yet, Scrooge,” she finished.

      “No Christmas spirit?” Emma asked.

      “I left it back in New York. I had plans.”

      “After you called,” Jack said to his sister, “I decided to move up a scheduled business trip and convinced Maddie to come along. Where’s your husband?”

      Emma turned to look, then smiled at the man just joining them. He stood military straight, even as he slid his arm around her waist. Not quite as tall as Jack, he had wavy dark hair and brown eyes.

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