Christmas at Tiffany's Read Online Free Page A

way first, but I'm looking forward to recruiting people to help. It’s a great cause.”
    Her heart did a happy flip, launching into a rapid-fire thud. Her senses were going haywire all of a sudden—maybe because of a sudden shift in the barometric pressure or something… “I’ll be the first to sign up, and you might want to be careful. I’m just about ready to say ‘Thank you’ again.”
    “For?”
    “For referring to our corporate gathering this weekend as a Christmas party.”
    He lifted a shoulder then leaned against the window frame. A handsome man, framed by the silver, brick and glass structures of midtown—and a blanketing snowfall. She nearly sighed with a purely female sense of admiration.
    “Company policy prohibits religious references, so I have to call it a holiday party in office communications, but to my mind the season is Christmas. Period.”
    “I like that attitude, and I agree.” The man was a believer. Could this sudden and rampant swell of attraction become any headier?
    He straightened and returned to the side of her desk. “Are you at a point where you can stop what you’re working on? If so, let me at least treat you to a meal. I think the deli downstairs might still be open.”
    Eats and Treats was the shop to which he referred; the restaurant and sundry was a ready convenience Tiffany haunted frequently during the work week.
    “That sounds great. Give me a minute to polish off this section and click SAVE .”
    “I’m going to sign off as well. Be right back.”
    He turned to walk away; that’s when a thought crossed her mind. “One more thing?” Brow arched, he slanted a look over his shoulder and waited. Tiffany fought an intoxicating inner dance. “Thank you.”
    His answering laugh tripped against her skin.
    ~*~
    So, the quiet one had some spark and sass. Mitch enjoyed that small, but powerful revelation. An elevator ride to the lobby led to the discovery that Eats and Treats was closed, prompting Mitch to modify their plans and lead the way to Scarpello’s instead. Scarpello’s was an on-site Italian restaurant that catered to higher-end lunch and dinner gatherings and the place was filling fast. Evidently a number of snow-bound detainees had chosen to wait out the five o’clock to seven o’clock commute blitz. Tiffany matched his stride with an even, effortless grace that for some unknown reason appealed to him.
    “I’ll bet the store owners shut down early rather than waiting it out. They’re open at six o’clock every morning.” She hiked her purse strap against her shoulder and fingered back her hair in an absent, automatic manner.
    “You know this because…?”
    “Because I’m addicted to their sausage-and-waffle breakfast sandwiches. When I get to work early, I treat myself. The owners, the Yong’s, know me pretty well.”
    Her easy spirit warmed away the chill of a marble lobby that was half office building utilitarian and half an effective effort to create natural light and green space. Live ferns and tall trees edged a window line that soared high and wide. Tiffany kept her focus straight ahead as they crossed the threshold of the restaurant, which gave Mitch time to study her unaware. Lovely, he thought—unassuming and sweet. That warming sensation slid even deeper.
    “Once the rush is over, where are you headed?”
    “To Brooklyn. And you?”
    They settled on stools at a high-top table. Handing one of the two menus to Tiffany, Mitch opened his and pored over meal selections. “When I took on the interim management position, the company set me up at condo in Long Island. A corporate rental.”
    “Nice.”
    Her eyes went wide. The wistful tone spoke volumes. Mitch considered her—and admired her—all over again. Here sat a woman in her mid-twenties, building her career and following through on her passion via hard work on the nine-to-five front along with what had to be an equally demanding level of school work that would lead to a Masters.