Jenny Lopez Saves Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page B

Never accept a date during the day for the same evening.
    I clicked thought to my completely empty calendar. ‘Tonight?’ I made a regretful mewing sound. ‘I don’t know … ’
    â€˜I’m sure you’re incredibly busy,’ he said quickly. ‘Only I really would have liked to see you before I head out of town for the holidays, and tonight’s my last night in the city.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜Really.’ He sounded like he meant it, at least. ‘I’m headed down to Florida tomorrow to spend the holidays with my parents.’
    Oh, he was a hot guy
and
a good son. It would hardly be fair to punish him for that, would it?
    â€˜And I made a reservation at Nobu downtown on the off chance that you might be able to figure something out? At eight?’
    I sucked. I sucked so hard.
    â€˜I think I could make that work,’ I relented. The lure of a nice meal with a hot man in a cool restaurant was too much. It had been too damn long. ‘Nobu at eight, then?’
    â€˜Nobu at eight,’ he confirmed. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’
    Hanging up, I pushed all thoughts of Jeff and Shannon and Stephen Hall and Bertie Bennett out of my mind and opened up a new browser window, tapping the words ‘Joseph Davies New York Lawyer’ into Google, just as ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You
’
came on the office stereo.
    â€˜Good timing,’ I said under my breath as a host of wildly attractive pictures appeared on my screen. I clicked, sighed and smiled. There he was. Joseph C. Davies, senior partner at Davies, Davies and Cooper, LLC, and my Christmas present to myself.

Chapter Four
    Joseph C. Davies, senior partner, hot man and good son, was going to be my husband.
    Sure, I’d had a couple of cocktails – and that was before dinner – but I was almost certain that he was the one. Or the new one, anyway. He wasn’t quite as tall as I remembered, but his suit and his hair were both cut beautifully and the line of his shirt gave him a gorgeous silhouette when he took off his jacket, all broad shoulders and narrow waist. A lock of thick, wavy blond hair kept falling in front of his eyes and it was all I could do not to brush it back. Good hair equals good breeding, and good breeding equals money. I looked into his dark green eyes and his expensive orthodontic work and saw the word summer transformed into a verb. Only New York’s elite ‘summered’, and Joe had House in the Hamptons written all over him.
    It wasn’t like I was being entirely mercenary. So far, this was easily one of the best dates I’d been on, ever. Jenny Lopez was a smitten kitten. My heart did the ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ when I walked into the restaurant and he stood up to greet me, partly because he was such a gentleman and partly because he was just so damn hot. He had told me I looked beautiful, that he was so glad I could make it and that I smelled delicious. I had giggled like a schoolgirl and started dreaming of china patterns as soon as my ass was in my seat. Since then, we’d covered how we came to be in New York, our favourite coffee shops, where to get the most overrated pizza in the city, downtown versus uptown and everything else in between. After quizzing me on my preferences he ordered for the both of us, and instead of finding it chauvinistic and annoying, it seemed chivalrous and polite. I learned that he lived in Tribeca, that he was obsessed with CrossFit and loved Louis C.K., Larry Davis and the musical stylings of Jay-Z and Kanye if he was working out, Mumford & Sons if he was driving, and vintage Michael Jackson if he was forced onto the dance floor. So far, I couldn’t fault him.
    â€˜You’re going home for the holidays?’ I asked, sipping my sake as slowly as possible. It wasn’t that slow. ‘You said something about Florida?’
    â€˜I did,’ he nodded, pushing the last piece of