He swallowed and tried to smile. “I miss her so much.”

Rachel leaned over the seat and pulled him into a hug. He sniffed several times as he cried. She allowed herself a few tears but held out to give Owen the strength he deserved. It wasn’t often he’d let loose, but he did now. “She would have loved your friends.”

“They would have loved her.”

Owen took a few deep breaths and got it together. He sniffed. “She would let me go in the helicopter.”

Rachel smiled into his shoulder. “We’ll see.”

When he pulled away, she wiped his eyes with her thumbs. “You okay?” she asked.

He nodded.

“I think we did all right for our first Christmas.”

“We did better than all right.”

It was only a three-day workweek between Christmas and New Year’s. Most of the city was overtaken by tourists, who would fill Times Square at midnight . . . that is, if they didn’t pass out beforehand.

“You should bring Owen and watch the ball drop,” Julie told her.

“It sounds like a massive party.”

“It is, but there are families that go.”

The thought of freezing her butt off and driving home after midnight didn’t sound like a good time. Then again, maybe Owen would be interested.

“Maybe.” Which really was more like a probably not.

The phone on her desk rang and kept her from having to make more excuses. “This is Rachel,” she answered.

“I like it when you sound all business.”

She tried to hide her grin. “Good to know. What can I do for you?”

Jason moaned. “Now you’re trying to turn me on.”

Rachel really hoped Julie had gotten busy and wasn’t listening to her end of the conversation.

“No, I haven’t completed that yet.”

Jason laughed.

“Is there anything else?” If she didn’t end the call soon, she’d blow her cover and say something that made it crystal clear that Jason was on the phone, flirting with her.

“I actually do have a few questions about your plan,” he told her. “Do you have a few minutes to come to my office?”

Phew. “I do.”

“Great. See you in five.”

Rachel hung up, shook her head, and pushed away from her desk. “Jason has a few things he wants to go over,” she told Julie.

“Anything I can help with?”

“I’m not sure.”

Julie went back to her computer. “You know where I am.”

Rachel took her working file and walked to the opposite end of the building.

Audrey looked up when she approached. “Go on in, he’s expecting you.”

“Thanks.”

Rachel had seen Jason’s office when she was given the tour of the place but had never been inside. Like any CEO of a company as large as Fairchild Charters, Jason took a corner of the building with breathtaking views of Manhattan. With a palette of gray and purple, which fit the logo of the company, the lines inside the office were modern without feeling cold.

Jason glanced up as she walked in, the look on his face all business. “That was fast,” he said.

“You said five minutes.” She set the papers down.

He walked around his desk and behind her to close his office door. Before she could turn around and sit, his hands were on her waist and he twisted her into his arms, his lips on hers.

She was stunned, and excited. Her arms fanned up his chest and around his neck. Lips opened, and their kiss became very indecent very quickly. They didn’t come up for air, just kissed as if they were learning how.

He slowed down, his breath heated against hers. “I had to see you.”

Rachel nodded with her eyes closed. “I can tell.”

“Do you think anyone will notice if we have daily meetings right before lunch?”

“Yes. I do.” She opened her eyes and drowned in his. “Is this why you called me in here?”

“Guilty.”

“Jason!”

He held her face with both his hands, kissed her again, and made her forget she should be mad at him.

This time when he pulled away, he sat on the edge of his desk and pulled her between his legs. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked her straight in the eye. “Thursday,” he started.

“New Year’s Eve?”

“I’m picking you up at six.”

“Is that right?”

“Wear something nice.”

“Are you asking me out?”

Jason grinned, his eyes dancing. “Oh, no. I’m not giving you the chance to say no.”

“You’re serious.”

“Yep. Owen is hanging out with Nathan. They’ll probably play video games until midnight.”

“I hope Nathan knows what he’s getting into.”

Jason squeezed her hips. “Six.”

Chapter Sixteen

Rachel took advantage of New York’s shopping experience in an effort to find a last-minute New Year’s dress. As long as you had money, you could find it in Manhattan. Although she wasn’t hurting, she had a hard time swallowing the average price tag on a glittery party dress.

Having spent more than she wanted to, Rachel looked at the dress on the hanger in her room.

“I like him, Em. He’s such a great man. And he adores Owen. They talk all the time. Owen will text him a stupid joke just because he knows Jason will respond.”

Rachel moved around the room, carefully picking out her bra and panties. In truth, the dress didn’t allow for much in the way of a bra. With a grin, she closed that drawer and picked out a thong.

“I haven’t had sex since Lyle. Remember Lyle?” The memory of the man made her shiver. “You warned me. I didn’t listen.”

Rachel wiggled into her thong and moved to her bathroom. She looked at herself sideways in the mirror, sucked in her stomach. “What if he doesn’t like what he sees?”

Deep inside, Rachel heard Em’s voice. If he doesn’t like it, screw him. He doesn’t deserve you. And if he does like it, screw him.

They’d laughed at that one for hours.

Only, the desire to hook up for the sake of hooking up hadn’t been on Rachel’s radar for well over a year.

Even now, knowing damn well that if she spent any alone time with Jason, they’d end up naked, that wasn’t the single-minded desire with him. There was something else there that scared the hell out of her. She was thirty-one . . . the dream of finding Prince Charming ended when she watched her best friend die without a perfect man by her side. Nothing in this life was promised. Yet Jason offered hope of a relationship Rachel hadn’t thought was possible.

“He isn’t Prince Charming,” Rachel said to the air. Then she smiled. Okay, he was kinda charming enough . . . and if clout and money made a man a prince, Jason qualified.

She shook the negative thoughts from her head . . . the ones that reminded her that she was dependent on him for her job. That if the two of them didn’t work out, and most relationships didn’t work, she’d be out of a job.

Oh, God.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup was perfect, her hair suitable for the dress she spent entirely too much money on.

The doorbell rang.

Rachel jumped. Looked at the time.

Damn it. Son of a . . .

She scrambled around her room. “Owen?”

No response.

“Owen!” This time her voice penetrated the clouds.