The Office Christmas Party: A fun, feel good Christmas cracker of a romance!

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HarperImpulse

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2017

Copyright © Aimée Duffy 2017

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2017

Aimée Duffy asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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Source ISBN:9780008197285

Ebook Edition © November 2017 ISBN: 9780008197254

Version: 2017-10-09

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

Also by Aimée Duffy

About the Author

About HarperImpulse

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

December was, without a doubt, Natalie Taylor’s favourite month. She didn’t care much for the cold, or the way the London pavements turned so slick and slippery that wearing heels was just as dangerous as taking a dip in the Thames. She wasn’t even a fan of the icy winds or the way the snow stained her favourite boots with hideous white rings she could never cover with leather polish, no matter how many bottles of the stuff she used.

But the evenings were a different story. Tonight, she’d found the perfect way to kick off the month in style.

Trudging up the steps, she pulled a piece of paper from her handbag, then reached for the door of her the flat she shared with her best friend. The smell of cinnamon swirls and baked apples filled her nose and her stomach growled. Just another reason she loved her flatmate. The woman had one of the best bakeries in the city and always let Natalie try her new cakes before she sold them in the shop.

And if the saliva pooling in her mouth was any indication, Rose was switching to her Christmas recipes.

Once inside she tried to ignore the rising growl in her stomach and ditched her keys in the bowl next to Rose’s. She headed straight for the kitchen, the piece of paper ready to be shoved into her best friend’s face, but froze at the alcove leading to the living room. Rose wasn’t alone, and was feeding what looked like a slab of a cinnamon swirl to her boyfriend of almost a year, Tom.

‘Hey Nat, there’s more in the kitchen if you’re hungry,’ Rose said, smiling.

Natalie went for a slice of cake and returned with a plate filled with a bit of everything, even the soft apple bakes she’d smelled earlier. She sat down on the coffee table and dropped the sheet of paper she’d been so excited to show Rose. Of course, if Tom was here for the night, that was it for her carefully planned evening.

That man could suck all the fun out of life.

‘These are amazing,’ Natalie said through a mouthful of the crumbly apple soft bakes.

Tom nodded his agreement as he popped another cinnamon swirl in his mouth. He didn’t say much, but when he did it always made her friend’s whole face light up. Natalie couldn’t really see his appeal. He had thick auburn hair and flawless skin but he wasn’t really her type. He was slim in a tall, almost gangly way.

Oh, and ever since he came on the scene, there’d been no more Saturday nights checking out local up-and-coming bands, or Sundays lying in bed with Rose recovering from the night before by eating so many cakes that they spent their Mondays on a sugar crash.

Shaking her head, she smothered the twinge of jealousy. It wasn’t nice to be thinking about her friend’s boyfriend that way, even if he was as dull as dishwater. She couldn’t feel annoyed at him just because he was there when she’d happened to have plans for her and Rose.

But she could stay hopeful that Tom was only staying to taste Rose’s new recipes then leaving …

‘How was work today?’ Rose asked.

‘Good, we’re booked up well into the new year.’ She’d spent all day planning the most exquisite parties her clients had ever seen, but of course the clients didn’t know she existed. Her boss, Mick the Dick, was the one who took the credit and pocketed all the profits, whether he spent his office hours at the driving range or not.

Natalie glanced at the sheet of paper with a list of some of the best parties to be at this December and sighed.

‘What’s that?’ Rose asked and before Natalie could answer, her friend swiped the sheet off the table.

‘Um,’ Natalie eyed Tom warily as he leaned over to read the list.

He looked up and turned to frown at her. ‘You can’t be serious?’

His pissed tone got her back up. Natalie folded her arms across her chest and stared him down. ‘Why not?’

‘Nat,’ Rose interrupted. ‘I can’t do tonight. Tom’s taking me out.’

So he wasn’t just there to taste test. Natalie was ready to bet he’d suspected they’d be out on the town again, going from party to party and having actual fun. After all, that’s how Rose had met him in the first place.

As for what her friend actually saw in him, Natalie didn’t know. He put the bore in boring.

Rose sighed. ‘Mode was great last year.’

Tom took her hand and rubbed his thumb over the back, then said smoothly with just a tiny hint of pain in his eyes, ‘I thought you’d stop this now we’re together. Or were you hoping to meet someone else?’

Natalie didn’t buy the false slice of hurt in his tone. He was using that to make Rose feel guilty for wanting to enjoy herself. And she’d long since given up trying to tell her friend she was being emotionally manipulated. It only ever ended in an argument, with Rose saying Natalie didn’t know how good a guy he was, and how kind and loyal and blah blah blah he was.

Rose’s chin dropped for a second. ‘Of course not, Tom. It’s just—’

‘Then there’s no need to discuss it further.’ He took the list from her and handed it back to Natalie, saying, ‘I can’t believe you use your work connections to find parties to crash. It’s ridiculous and completely immature.’

Natalie gritted her teeth before her temper could erupt with a string of insults. See, she could be mature.

‘Tom, stop it,’ Rose begged.

He just continued to stare at Natalie, as if he expected her to leave. And although she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, she didn’t want to see Rose torn between them either. Taking her list, she went to her bedroom without a word.

Well, maybe not out loud, anyway. The words boring, rude and twat rolled around her skull all the way there.

If he didn’t make Rose happier than Natalie had ever seen her, she’d have told him exactly how much of an arse he really was, and then some.

Instead she dumped her handbag and fell onto her bed. So much for the perfect month of partying. With Tom around, she doubted she’d ever be able to get out with Rose on a normal night. But it had been like that for months, now, hadn’t it?

She mentally cursed him, but then let it go with a sigh. Her epic dislike of Tom could also have something to do with how jealous she was that he was monopolizing so much of her best friend’s time. Maybe he was genuinely hurt at the idea of Rose going out and flirting with other men.

Or maybe he was a bastard to the core.

Rose came into the room and closed the door behind her. She looked so worried Natalie had to force a smile to reassure her.

‘Maybe he’s right, Nat. I mean about the crashing thing. It was fun, but things have changed. And if you get caught, you could lose your job.’ She sat down on the side of the bed, patting Natalie’s hand.

So Tom had given Rose another excuse for not wanting her to go. He knew just how to pull at her friend’s heartstrings. Of course, Rose was so lovely she wouldn’t do anything that would potentially hurt anyone.

He was looking more and more like a bastard all the time.

‘I don’t just want to do this, Rose, I need to.’ Natalie shook the piece of paper at her friend. ‘You know why.’

‘Maybe this year could be different. We could do Christmas properly, start our own traditions.’

‘Christmas party crashing is our tradition!’ And the thought of celebrating on the 25th made her sick to the point she was sure the apple soft bakes were going to take a return trip. She couldn’t, she just … couldn’t.

Rose must have noticed, because she back tracked. ‘Or maybe I could talk to Tom again. He might feel better about it all if he came with us,’ she said, not looking hopeful.

Natalie wasn’t either. Tom had a weird emotional hold over her friend and he was clearly not thrilled at the idea of them going out together at all, never mind for a whole month straight. She got the awful feeling that she was losing her only friend, that soon she’d be alone again, as alone as she was when she met Rose three years ago.

And whether it was to Tom or something else, Natalie would have to deal with losing Rose eventually so there was only one thing she could do – get used to it.

Just because she couldn’t celebrate Christmas day without guilt choking her, didn’t mean she had to stop enjoying the season. And she’d leaned on Rose for so long, she was almost an acting crutch.

Plus, if she wanted to save enough to start her own business then she wasn’t going to turn down a chance of free food and drink for a month. Sitting up, she resolved to go solo.

‘Are you okay?’ Rose asked.

Natalie nodded, realising she really was. ‘I’m going to Mode tonight, alone.’ At Rose’s horrified expression, she added, ‘It’ll be fine, really. I’ll be home before midnight. Promise.’

***

The private club was decked out exactly how Natalie envisioned Christmas as a child. Silky white sheets trimmed in silver sequences dressed tables around the edges, fairy lights elegantly covered the walls and the ceilings, while the arches leading to the dancefloor were twined with holly and had tiny tea lights throughout. She’d done an amazing job, even if she did say so herself.

This was what she loved about December – all the glitz, sparkle and magic – even though she had to face icy wind and freezing rain to get there. But the atmosphere was so warm and full of joy she barely paid attention to her numb feet.

The place was packed already, with women wearing glittering red and gold gowns. The men wore slick suits with festive ties, reminding her of the cartoon reindeer ones her mum always bought her dad when she was little.

The memories were warmer now, not tinged with sadness, maybe because enough time had passed. More than likely it was because, officially, she was there as Nicole Porter the Temp tonight, not Natalie Taylor, the girl who had planned this party right down to the gourmet buffet being set up in the far corner. Separating herself made all the difference. Nicole didn’t have guilt or sadness, just a love of all things Christmassy.

Tom was right about one thing though; if Mick the Dick knew about her extracurricular activities his face would be a picture and he would probably sack her on the spot.

She’d turned his company into the first point of contact in the city if you wanted a party, especially during the holiday season. What thanks had she gotten for her hard work that first year? Nothing except a ton of overtime with no extra cash in her wages that month, or any month since. This was her way of getting something for herself out of it. And for Rose. But Rose wasn’t with her this time.

She squished down the pang of sadness and accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Determined to make the most of it, she headed towards the buffet table and grabbed a plate. A few men had already gathered and were stocking up on miniature mince pies, but it wasn’t the cakes or pastries she was after – nobody’s compared to Rose’s. Instead she filled her plate with the cold food that wouldn’t spoil easily, leaving the seafood nibbles for her next trip to the table.

When nothing else could fit on her plate without tumbling off, she made her way to an empty table at the back and filled the food bags she’d brought with her, stuffing her stash into her handbag.

When she looked up she caught the dark gaze of a guy across the room. He lifted one eyebrow, nodding to her bag and her cheeks flushed.

Busted.

But the guy just smiled a little mockingly, shook his head in amusement, and picked up a glass of champagne. No doubt Mr Perfect, in his expensively cut navy suit, wouldn’t need to stock up on free food to save a penny or two. And going by his broad shoulders and slightly muscled forearms hugged deliciously by the suit, he ate very well.

She waited for him to wave over security, or maybe even a waiter, but all he did was eye her from her silver pumps, all the way to the sequinned neckline of her royal blue dress. He lingered on her chest and she told herself that the increase in her heartrate was down to the stress of almost getting caught plundering, or maybe even indignation caused by the way he was ogling her.

He took another sip of champagne, then winked and she felt her cheeks heat up again. But not from embarrassment.

Now that she was reassured he wasn’t going to come barrelling over and chuck her out, she took a moment to really look at him.

His jaw was dusted with dark hair, black or maybe dark brown. He was lightly tanned, either a sunbed lover or he’d just come back from abroad. The answer to that didn’t matter though, because she and Rose had rules for successful party crashing and right at the top of the list was Do Not Get Personal With Anyone.

And she’d seen first-hand how important that was after Rose met Tom. Her friend had broken that rule, but kept her alter ego. Rachel the Assistant aka Rose had also gone on to break rule number two – Do Not See Anyone More Than Once.

Nicole the Temp didn’t want to see this guy more than once, or find out about his golden glow. She did, however, want to wipe that grin off his face – maybe with some time under the mistletoe or a little indecent grinding on the dancefloor.

And given his unashamed appraisal followed by a wink that suggested he liked what he saw, she guessed he was only interested in much of the same.

Deciding to take the lead, she got up but another man appeared in front of her, blocking the way.

‘Hi, I’m Mark, have we met before?’ he asked, holding out his hand.

Natalie took the offer and shook back. ‘I don’t think so. I’ve just started as a temp. I’m Nicole.’

Mark wasn’t so bad. He was a little thinner than the other guy with the mocking grin, clean shaven and had thick, blonde hair, a little darker than hers. No tan either, but he was quite hot.

‘Ah, I heard they got temps in to update the new systems,’ Mark said, interrupting her evaluation. ‘How are your fingers from all that data entry?’ He pretended to wince, and she smiled.

Feigning stiffness, she clenched her fingers a few times. ‘It’s touch and go.’

‘Well, maybe this will help.’ Mark waived over a waiter and then handed her a fresh glass of champagne.

He pulled out a chair for her, assuming she’d sit with him now and she couldn’t help looking over for the guy who saw her plundering, but his attention was on a pretty, petite redhead who seemed to not only be hanging off his arm, but on his every word.

Well, it looked like that ship had sailed.

She took the lead from Mr Perfect and slid into the offered chair with a flirty smile for Mark, trying to steer the conversation away from work or anything personal. He seemed keen to find out more about her, probably to make her feel more comfortable in her new job, so she went with her rehearsed and fabricated backstory.

This was the part Rose always hated, which was why she’d probably told mostly the truth when she’d met Tom.

Natalie held back a sigh. The worry in her friend’s eyes when she left just reminded Natalie of her own worry that she was going to lose her best friend. The feeling of impending doom weighed heavily on her so much so she had to concentrate to keep up with the conversation.

Perhaps because of that, or because of the five glasses of champagne she drank on an empty stomach, but she found herself saying to Mark, ‘Let’s dance.’

Sliding her bag under the sparkly trimmed tablecloth, she took his hand and he led her to the dancefloor. The live band playing Christmas music made it hard to navigate through all the bodies that seemed to have the same idea.

Little bouquets of mistletoe were strung from the ceiling directly above them and she tugged Mark beneath one, looking up, then at him expectantly. A knowing smile pulled at his full lips before he bent down and brushed them against hers.

The kiss was nice, slow and building, but not the sort she read about in books that turned her body into a furnace and buckled her knees. A long time ago, she’d resolved that fiction was not real life, people didn’t always get happy-ever-afters and a pair of strong hands holding her up as she clung to muscled biceps with a desperate sort of passion was not in the cards for her, maybe not anyone.

But she tried harder to feel more, feel something, throwing everything into the kiss and twisting her fingers through his thick, silky hair. Mark returned her enthusiasm, prying her mouth open with a swipe of his tongue, tangling it with hers. A familiar warmth in the pit of her stomach bloomed and she was about to suggest they find somewhere more private, but it was Mark who broke away first.

‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to maul you like that,’ he said, sounding shocked at himself.

‘It’s okay, I don’t mind being mauled by you.’ Which was true. He was a nice guy and she was single. What was the harm in having a little fun? Especially since she was just getting into it.

Someone knocked her forward, into Mark’s arms and she bumped against the growing bulge in his pants, a reminder of what she’d been hoping for. A little bit of passion, even if it seemed to mostly be on his part. But she was definitely getting there.

Mark swallowed hard. ‘Let’s get off this dancefloor and talk.’

What warmth she felt sizzled out. He was really a nice guy – probably wanted to take her out on a date or ten before there would be any more heated kisses. Which would breach her second rule and be her cue to leave.

When they were back at their table with a fresh glass of champagne each, she discreetly pulled her handbag out from under the table.

‘Nicole, look. I really like you. How about we do this another time, without everyone we work with gaping at us?’

‘Definitely,’ she lied, feeling stupid more than anything. Was she so desperate for a connection with someone tonight she just threw herself at him? He was hot, but a one-night stand was something she’d only done a few times. And she’d only done them with men she’d felt at least a little lust for, not just the warm and fuzzies. ‘Could you excuse me? I need to go to the ladies’ room.’

‘Yeah, of course. They’re over there,’ he said, pointing to the entrance and, luckily for her, the exit too.

She grabbed her bag and made a beeline for the front of the building, feeling annoyed at herself for not realising Mark was one of the few gentlemen left in the city. Holding her chair out for her and asking her questions about herself should have told her everything she needed to know. And he’d only kissed her so intensely because she’d pushed for it.

As soon as she got out into the hall, the redhead she’d seen earlier darted out of the men’s bathroom looking flushed with her hair all over the place and her dress ruffled up one side. She smacked straight into Natalie, knocking them both off balance Natalie had to drop her bag to catch herself on the wall. The other woman’s face went from flushed to scarlet.

‘Oh my god! I’m so sorry. Let me help with this.’

Before Natalie could think or breathe, the woman picked up her bag and handed it over. ‘Are you okay? I should have looked where I was going.’

Natalie took the bag and shook her head to clear it. ‘I’m fine.’

She was about to ask what the woman was doing coming out of the men’s room, when she saw the guy who’d caught her stuffing her bag with canapés coming out of the same door, pressing his lips together as if to keep from laughing at the spectacle before him.

Right, that answered that question. And to think, if Mark hadn’t side-tracked her, she might be the one looking like she’d been thoroughly attended to, not the redhead.

‘Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude,’ the redhead said wrinkling her nose, ‘but did you know you smell a bit beefy?’

A laugh erupted from the bastard still standing at the door to the men’s room, quickly dousing any fantasies Natalie had of having switched places with the redhead. She glared first at the redhead, then him and stalked out of Mode with her chin up. Her exit only seemed to make him laugh louder and her face burned so hot she must be puce by now. Her only saving grace was that she’d never have to set eyes on either of them again.

As Natalie hailed a taxi, she vowed her next solo party crash would not be an embarrassing shambles. There was no way tonight could possibly get any worse, at least.

At home, she spread her plunder on the coffee table and was about halfway through when the front door opened. Rose’s cheeks were tear stained, like she’d been crying. Natalie stood and whirled on Tom, about to give him hell for hurting her friend when Rose stuck her left hand, palm down, in front of Natalie’s face.

The diamond set in a bed of sapphires on her friend’s ring finger was Natalie’s worst nightmare come to life.

‘Nat, I’m engaged! Tom and I are getting married!’ Rose said with tears of joy streaming down her face.