His for the Holidays

Chapter 2: Mr. Sullivan

Mika

Opening my eyes, everything is blurry for a moment, and I wonder where I am. The ceiling above me, as well as the walls, are unfamiliar, and the warm, muted lighting makes it difficult for me to make sense of things.

Panic flutters through my chest as I sit up too quickly, and then it hits me—the memories. Wade. Nina. His cruel words. The deck. The rush of the wind, the scent of the water, and the brief moment of peace before someone drew me in.

I begin looking around frantically, my heart pounding, but a sharp pain shoots through my skull and stops me dead. My head is splitting, and the bitter taste of whiskey is still on my tongue, making me want to gag.

I can also feel the heavy alcohol residue in my system, but I can not help but notice how luxurious this room is. The bed beneath me is plush, the sheets cool and soft, and the air is filled with a faint scent of cologne—familiar and comforting.

My gaze lands on the bedside table, where a glass of water, two pills, and a small note rest. I take the note, trembling slightly as I read what it says.

“Take these. You’ll need them.”

For a brief moment, I am moved by the thoughtfulness of whoever left this, but then my stomach violently twists, cutting off all thought. I leap out of bed, unsteady on my feet, and frantically search the room for the bathroom door.

Spotting it, I bolt, one hand on my churning stomach and the other outstretched to steady myself against the walls. The door swings open, and I fall to the cool floor next to the toilet just in time. Everything I drank comes rushing out of me, and the bitter taste of whiskey is now unbearable.

My body feels wrung out, and my eyes sting with tears as I continue to heave. Just then, I hear the door open behind me, and I feel mortified. No. Not like this. I don’t want anyone to see me like this, and I want to scream, to tell whoever it is to leave, but my body betrays me. I can’t tear myself away from the toilet bowl as another wave hits.

Before I can spiral further into embarrassment, I feel hands warm and gentle as they gather my hair and hold it back.

The kindness in this simple touch breaks something in me. For the first time in what feels like forever, I don't feel alone, and it only dawns on me now that I've always felt alone.

I finally stop heaving and lean against the cool toilet, my hand trembling as I reach up to flush. Before I can process the movement or gather the courage to look up, a glass of water appears in front of me.

I don’t need to look to know that it's a man behind me—the cologne gives him away. Embarrassment washes over me again, thick and suffocating, as I murmur a quiet "Thank you," my voice rasping. I rinse my mouth and flush again, rubbing at the humiliation stuck in my throat as hard as the taste of bile.

“I’m sorry about all this,” I manage, as his hands finally release my hair.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal,” he replies, and the sound stops me cold. I whip my head around to lock eyes with the last person I expected to see right now, like this, and just then it hits me. Stormy gray eyes. The same ones I saw before everything went black. Oh, my word, it was him.

“Mr. Sullivan.” I scramble to my feet, my knees wobbling beneath me, and he holds me steady before I can fall over, his grip gentle. “Channing will do,” he says, the corners of his mouth tugging into the faintest smile, and I nod, still stunned.

“What are you doing here?” I blurt out, feeling ridiculous as soon as the words leave my mouth. He gestures toward the bathroom door as he begins to answer. “I’m on vacation.” Of course, he is. This is a luxury cruise. It’s obvious. I feel my face heat as I silently curse myself for asking something so obvious.

We exit the bathroom, and before I can respond, he picks up the glass of water and pills from the bedside table and hands them to me. “You should still take these.” I hesitate for some strange reason I can not explain, as I desperately need to feel better before accepting them, muttering another thank you. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a smile on his lips, most likely because I have not stopped blushing like an i***t since realizing he was my savior.

“I sometimes throw up too after a heavy night of drinking,” he says lightly, and the statement is so unexpected that it startles a small laugh out of me. He grins, clearly relieved to have alleviated some of my embarrassment, and moves to the bedside table, lifting the lid of a covered dish to reveal a beautifully plated salmon meal.

The aroma makes my stomach twist—not from nausea, but from hunger. "This will also help," he adds, gesturing toward the food. "It is good after a rough night." He adds but I can't. I can’t stay.

"Thank you for everything," I say, fumbling for words, "but I need to go." "You have already done enough, and this..." My voice falters as I look around the room and then at him.

“You’re my boss, Mr.—I mean, Channing. And I—this is just too much. I need to go.” But I only get a few steps to the door before Channing steps into my path.

He doesn’t touch me, doesn’t block me aggressively—just stands there with a smile.

"Yes, I am your boss when I am Mr. Sullivan," he says lightly. “But right now, I’m just Channing.”

I glance up at him, my brows knitting together. “Channing, I appreciate everything, but I really need to—” However, he cuts me off, holding up a hand. “Before you go, I need to say this: I don’t exactly trust you with yourself right now.”

I pause, his unexpected words striking me with an unsettling truth that causes my chest to tighten. “Thank you for your concern,” I reply carefully, trying to keep my voice steady, “but I’m not a child. You’re not responsible for me.”

His expression softens, and a faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth again. "Actually," he says slowly, his tone becoming gentler. “Out of everyone on this ship, I’m probably the closest thing you’ve got to family. So you are my responsibility.” He adds, "Family that cares, at least," and I blink. His words hit me unexpectedly, stirring something confusing inside me, and my throat tightens as I try to respond.

“Mr. Su-Channing,” I stammer, but he interrupts again, his tone shifting into something almost teasing.

“Do you want me to have him thrown off the ship?”

I freeze, staring up at him in disbelief. “You know about us?” My voice is barely a whisper, and Channing's lips curve into a knowing smile, appearing almost amused for a moment. “I’ve always known,” he says, and before I can process this, he reaches out, tilting my chin up gently with his fingers. His touch is warm, causing an involuntary shiver down my spine as his stormy gray eyes lock on mine.

“Well?” he presses. “Do you want me to have him thrown off?”

“No!” The answer comes out instinctively, my voice firm. “I don’t want you to do that.”

I quickly turn away to break the intensity of his gaze, and my thoughts swirl as I cross the room and sit on the bed's edge, hands folded in my lap. “I’m sorry,” I say softly, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “I crossed a line. I know I did. It was unprofessional—”

The company policy prohibits overstepping boundaries with clients, and Wade and I believed we kept our relationship private. I didn't even wear my engagement ring at work, but it's now evident that it wasn't sufficiently concealed.

Channing pulls out the chair across from me and sits down, leaning forward slightly. “It’s okay,” he says, his voice low but not unkind. “I didn’t bring him up to scold you. And for the record, I’m not going to do anything about it.”

Relief floods through me, warm and overwhelming, as I sit up a little straighter. My job is the only thing I have left. "Thank you," I whisper, and his voice softens in response to my question.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Emotions surge inside me in response to the question, and my throat tightens, but I quickly shake my head and force the words out. “Thank you, but I’ll be okay.” It’s a lie. The voice in my head screams, Yes, please, say something, but the awkwardness of this entire situation keeps me silent.

Plus, I know if I start talking, I will break, and, despite his claim that he is not my boss right now, this is only temporary. I do not want to have to struggle to face him back at work because I was such a hot mess on this cruise.

“Okay, but you should try the salmon.” I manage a weak smile, though it barely reaches my lips. “Can I take it to my room?” I ask, realizing I learned something about my boss today. He can be pretty persistent. But the emotions simmering beneath the surface are about to boil over. I feel cracks forming, and I need to get out of here.

"I need to clean up," I say softly, standing before the tears can betray me, and he nods right away. "Of course. Take it.” He stands, too, and hands me the dish.

“Thank you,” I murmur and turn toward the door, willing myself to keep it together, to hold on just a little longer, as all this care that he’s showing makes everything harder. But then he speaks again just as I reach the exit.

“I’m sorry about what happened, Mika. And for what it's worth, Wade is a jerk for doing that to you," he says, his voice more serious than it has been all this time and I stop dead in my tracks, my last fragile thread snapping. I pivot sharply, and the words flow out before I can stop them—raw, angry, and heartbroken.

"I did everything for him," I say in a trembling voice as I stride back into the room, tears flowing freely. "I held him down when that b***h abandoned him." I continue, letting it all out, and Channing does not interrupt. Instead, he grabs a box of tissues and hands them to me. I take one and sink into the bed as the floodgates open.

“Can you believe what he said to me? I'm hard to love. That I was too strong.” The words sting even now, cutting me open all over again. “I gave him everything,” I whisper. “And he threw it all back in my face,” I tell him everything, and when I’m done, the room remains silent except for the sound of my quiet sobs as I bury my face in the tissue, letting it soak up the tears I can’t seem to stop.

Channing lets me cry without saying anything, allowing me to let out everything I have been holding in. When the tears finally stop, he shifts in his seat and speaks softly. “I’m sorry, Mika. You didn’t deserve that.”

His words reach me, and for a moment, I’m quiet. Then, almost to myself, I say, “I should’ve let you throw him off the ship.” A hollow, bitter laugh escapes me, but when I glance at Channing, the look in his eyes causes me to pause.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.

"You are beautiful," he says, and the heat rises to my cheeks before spreading quickly across my tear-stained face. I open my mouth to thank him and brush it off, but the way his stormy gray eyes lock on mine makes me feel things I shouldn't. Before I can respond, he speaks again.

"I can help you avenge yourself. Take back your power.”

I blink, confused, my brow furrowing. “What do you mean? How?” I ask, and his answer makes my eyes widen. “We’ll pretend to be dating,” he says, completely unfazed. “Let Wade see that he wasn’t the only one with options. Let him think you had someone better all along.”

For a moment, I just stare at him, the words taking a beat too long to sink in. Then I’m on my feet so fast, that the sheets nearly rip. “What?! Make myself out to be a cheater, too! That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard!” I exclaim, my voice rising, and he speaks, but I do not hear him. My mind is already reeling. "No. Absolutely not… and you are my boss, for goodness’ sake!” I snap. “I would never do something like that. It’s… it’s… it’s not me!”

But then I stop mid-step as the words "It's not me" settle heavily in my chest. Wade's voice rings out in my mind, sharp and cutting. I want someone who can go with the flow. Someone who’s not so… you.

The bitterness of his words rises in my stomach, and before I know it, I pivot and march back inside Channing's cabin. My heart pounds as I face him again, a decision forming somewhere deep within me that will not let Wade win.

“Okay,” I say, locking eyes with him. “It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever done, but let’s do it. Let’s hurt the bastard back the way he hurt me.”