7| Thief in the night

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It turns out I can be ready in thirty minutes under a little duress. I leave my bedroom to find Milo on the sofa, snuggled up with Mulan. She's not usually keen on strangers, but she seems to have taken a liking to him. From the look on Milo's face as he scratches her ear, the feeling is mutual.

"Do I need to give you two a minute alone?" I ask.

His head snaps up, and he takes in my dress. It's one of the many that never got to see the light of day, a little black number that's sexy but not too dressy.

His eyes flit to mine, filled with something that wasn't there a minute ago. "Nice dress."

"Thanks." I grab my bag, and he drives us to a bar called the Sky Lounge before handing his keys to the valet. We step into an elevator that takes us to the top floor, and Milo gives his name to the server as though he'd been planning to take us to dinner all along.

The server smiles at him and leads us over to a table facing the skyline. I take a seat, and when Milo finally peels off his coat, I see he's wearing a long-sleeved navy shirt, dark jeans, and a fancy watch.

The waitress is on us before I can speak, asking for our drink orders. I order a cocktail, he orders water, and she disappears into the back while I take in the view of the city.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me," I say, turning to Milo.

The corner of his mouth lifts. "This is me treating myself after a torturous afternoon. You're just along for the ride."

"Thanks; you sure know how to make a girl feel special."

He gives me a wicked look in return, and I have to look away. Sometimes when he looks at me, I get quick flashes of that night in the elevator, and my mind starts to wonder things it definitely shouldn't be wondering.

I'm saved from hearing his answer when the waitress comes back with our drinks. We order our main meals, salmon for me and something I can't pronounce for him. She totters toward the kitchen again in her six-inch heels, and I turn to Milo. He goes to say something, but an older man in a suit slips into the piano up front and starts playing 'White Christmas'. Milo tenses and narrows his eyes, forcing me to lean forward.

"Why do you hate Christmas so much?" I ask.

He looks surprised. "You noticed?"

I smile. "Milo, the whole office has noticed. You're not exactly inconspicuous about it. Every year, you act like Christmas physically pains you."

There's a second of silence, and then, "It does."

My eyes soften. I'd always assumed Milo just naturally repelled anything remotely joyful, I never thought for a second there might be a reason behind it. "What happened?"

He shrugs and takes a drink. "Three years ago, I'd been planning on proposing to my ex on Christmas Eve. I wanted it to be a surprise, so I told Anna I'd be working late that night. I got home early to set everything up, and then waited for her to show." He stops now and looks behind me at the skyline. "She came home with one of my friends, thinking I was still at work."

I stare at him, speechless. I'd had no idea Milo was even seeing anyone back then, let alone thinking about proposing. Briefly, I try to imagine him nervously waiting for her to show up, only to find her cheating on him with his friend. It makes my heart ache.

"I'm sorry, Milo. That's horrible."

He shrugs again. I can tell he's uncomfortable. "It's in the past."

I raise my glass and say, "To sucky partners."

He smiles a little and clanks my glass with his. "To sucky partners." He puts his drink down and leans forward a little. His eyes darken. "So," he says. "A demon sent from hell? I mean, not even Satan himself?"

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