A Mistletoe Kiss with the Boss by Susan Meier Read Free Book Online

Is it an heirloom?”
    The tall, thin woman beamed. “Why, yes. It belonged to my grandmother.”
    â€œIt’s stunning.” Kristen turned to Dean. “Isn’t it?”
    He stole a peek at her. It might be weird for him to compliment a necklace, but Kristen pulled it off easily and had also put him in a position where he could simply agree and probably look like a nice guy.
    â€œYes. It’s beautiful.”
    Mrs. Jenkins caught Kristen’s hand. “It’s so kind of you to notice. These days everyone seems to be captivated by new and shiny.” She pressed her hand over the brooch-like necklace, which—surrounded by untold carats of diamonds—sparkled like a bonfire. “I prefer old and familiar.”
    Norman Jenkins chuckled. “Which is why she’s still married to me.”
    Kristen laughed. Dean smiled. Having Kristen with him really did ease him more naturally into conversations, especially since he’d realized he shouldn’t talk about business.
    The Jenkinses walked away happy, and Dean let Kristen take the lead in all their chats, and allowed her to compliment to her heart’s delight. He drank his champagne and took another glass for himself and Kristen. He even found himself laughing once or twice.
    Right before dinner, the Kauffmans sidled up to them. A bubbly young couple who owned a PR firm that Suminski Stuff had used a time or two, and who had just had their first child, Pete and Belinda were more his age than most of the attendees.
    After Dean introduced Kristen, she said, “We’d love to see a picture of your son. Wouldn’t we, Dean?”
    Trusting her, he said, “Sure.”
    The Kauffmans whipped out their phones. Belinda was the first to get her pictures up for viewing, and she handed her phone to Dean. On the screen was the oddest face he had ever seen. Bald head, bugging eyes, spit bubbles in the corners of the little boy’s lips.
    He honestly wanted to say something nice but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
    Kristen smoothly said, “Oh, he’s adorable! Such big eyes!”
    Following her lead, Dean said, “Yes, big eyes.” But ten minutes later, when the new parents were finally out of earshot, he turned to Kristen. “You deserve some kind of an award for keeping a straight face while looking at that kid.”
    She laughed. “He was adorable.”
    â€œNo. He wasn’t.”
    â€œSure he was. All babies are cute in their own way.”
    â€œIf you say so.”
    â€œOh, Dean, life isn’t about symmetry or perfection. It’s about what makes a person unique, and that little boy’s eyes were spectacular.”
    He said, “I guess,” but what she’d said made real sense. Not just because the baby with the big eyes and bald head did look happy, but because he’d met all kinds in his world. Superstitious programmers who had lucky T-shirts. Marketing people who wore the latest fashions, and accountants who were never out of their suits. It took all of them to make Suminski Stuff successful. In spite of her naïvety, Kristen Anderson was pretty smart.
    Relaxing another notch, he motioned her in the direction of their table, but she didn’t make a move to walk toward it. She peered at him. “You haven’t spent a lot of time around kids, have you?”
    â€œNo. And I plan to keep it that way.”
    â€œReally? You don’t want to have kids of your own someday?”
    â€œI wouldn’t know the first thing about being a father.”
    â€œI’ve heard it comes naturally.”
    He gestured again for her to walk. “Not when you didn’t have one to be an example.”
    Her face filled with sympathy. Apology filled her green eyes. “I’m so sorry. I forgot your parents were killed.”
    â€œIt’s fine.”
    She shook her head. “No. It’s not fine. I should have thought that through before I