Michael Taylor was sure- he was in love with Lydia Saunders, even if she was engaged to someone else. He had been for years and no one else came close. Not until that kiss happened.
Suddenly, Lyanna Saunders- the woman he vowed to hate forever- was...
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Why is it, when the staff Christmas party comes around, everyone turns into horny teenagers, looking for a quick kiss, a fumble, an O, and then by Monday, they go back to ignoring each other like the cliché never happened?
When Andie, our receptionist, pitched the idea of having an office party on Black Friday, our fathers thought it was an excellent idea. Often, I hated working at my father's architect firm, even more so when I remember that the Taylor's are equal partners in the business.
"Michael and Lyanna can organise it," Mr Taylor Sr. suggested just as the staff meeting came to an end.
My father jumped on the bandwagon, announcing to the entire staff that, "It'll be a great bonding experience for them. Lord knows that they need to get on better terms."
It's an open secret that Michael and I don't get along. That, mind you, is putting it mildly. We cannot stand one another; we loathe each other with a passion that far exceeds everything else. I found the man to be irritating and insufferable, qualities that were only made worse by the fact that he was madly in love with my sister, Lydia. It was incredibly annoying to see him pine over her because she was never going to look at him in the same way. She has said as much to me in the past. Lydia only ever saw him as a friend but Michael was too oblivious to notice that.
My sister isn't someone that Michael should get himself involved with anyhow. I've yet to meet a person as selfish as Lydia; being the apple of our father's eye, Lydia could literally get away with murder seeing as she had a knack of wrapping everyone around her little finger. All she would have to do is flutter her eyelashes and everything would fall into her lap. I've seen her in action countless times, especially when it comes to the men she wants to date, and it makes me sick to my stomach. Michael was just another victim.
That said, he and I had to put aside our day-to-day work at the firm and work together to get the office ready for the stupid party that neither of us wanted. True to form, we couldn't agree on anything. I wanted to go classic, timeless and tasteful, he thought buying in a copious amount of alcohol, getting a half decent DJ and hiring some fancy coloured lighting would suffice. It took a lot of shouting before we came to some sort of detent and found a middle ground where I'd be in charge of the decorations and Michael would sort out the entertainment.
It came together nicely. The office space on the ground floor had morphed into a party space filled with red and green decorations, a splattering of gold here and there, with a DJ set up in the corner and some dimmed lighting offering up plenty of darkened areas for the countless mistakes at least half the staff would make tonight. To the right, Michael had made sure to set up a table for the drinks while there was a small selection of nibbles. Not enough to soak up all the booze but it would do.
"Well, you both pulled it off," my father said when he and Mr Taylor Sr came down from their offices an hour into the party. He watched his staff enjoy themselves and turned to Michael to say, "Good work, son."
"Thanks," Michael nodded. Noticing that my father had failed to congratulate me, Michael added, "But it was all Lyanna. I just helped a little."
Dad smiled and then walked towards the throng of people. Not long after, Michael and Mr Taylor Sr both joined him while I watched everything from the sideline. Lydia arrived not long after and she made her presence known in five seconds flat, laughing obnoxiously to get everyone's attention. Suddenly, she thrust her hand into someone's face and I was blinded by the sparkle coming from the ring on her left hand.
Of course, she'd only gone and got herself engaged. Typical Lydia behaviour there. Dad was thrilled and took over the microphone to announce it to everyone at Saunders and Taylor, people cheered and then the unmistakable sound of a champagne bottle popping got the celebrations going again.
The only one here that looked as pissed off as I did was Michael. His face was thunderous and his jaw ticked as he had to stand before Lydia and her fiancé, congratulating them on their good news. Taking pity on him- and knowing that it would be suspect if I didn't go and fawn over my sister- I approached the little gang. Before I had the chance to say anything, however, Lydia squealed and said, "You're both stood under the mistletoe. Oh, that's so cute. You and Michael should kiss, Lyanna."
Tilting my head upwards, I saw that someone had strung up some mistletoe. Groaning, I look towards Michael and see him staring blankly at me. Shrugging my shoulder, I get up on my tiptoes and kiss his stubbly cheek. When I pulled away, I saw that we had gathered quite an audience.
Mr Taylor Sr. laughed. "Oh, come on, son, I know you can do better than that."
"Yes, Michael," Lydia agreed, nodding along. "It's been years since someone kissed Lyanna. Show her what she's missing out on."
There was a challenging lilt in Lydia's voice and I hated it. As did Michael if his next actions were anything to go by. He bridged the gap between us until our chests were pressed up against one another, one arm snaked its way around my waist, while a hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing my lip before he swooped in and captured my lips between his, a heated kiss developing in seconds.
My stomach flipped and my heart stammered in my chest as the kiss intensified, his tongue breaking through my defences. I lost myself in the moment and kissed him as feverishly as he kissed me. I was vaguely aware of someone cheering in the background. I yelped when Michael nipped at my lip, bringing the kiss to an end.
Pulling away, we both stared at each other as we tried to catch our breath. I noticed in that second that Michael had blue-grey eyes, something I hadn't picked up on before. Had he always had that freckle above his eyebrow, too?
Just then, he mouthed the exact same thing that was going through my mind. "What the fuck was that?"
