UNDER THE MISTLETOE

CHAPTER 1

RATING:18+

GENRE: BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE

UNDER THE MISTLETOE

BOOK ONE OF THE RANDALL BROTHERS

CHAPTER ONE

RACHEAL’S POV

I twist and turn the pen in my hand, absentmindedly chewing on a piece of gum, its strawberry flavor long gone. The air around me is stenched with the sounds of mouse clicking and the clatter of the keyboards as fingers come into hurried contact with them. I sigh, my gaze zeroing on the wrist watch Dean got me last year for a christmas present. Ten minutes to six. I should have been out of here almost an hour ago but Mr. Randall is making us work extra hours today before we break for Christmas holiday. Usually, I’d be horrified about the idea of going on a christmas holiday but these next two weeks are actually something I look forward to.

“Going home for Christmas this year?” Maria questions, her green eyes pinned on me. Her and I are both assistants to Randall, an upcoming, well-known literary agent and famously coined as the Billionaire heir of the Randall business empire.

“Dean and I will swing it at his apartment. You know, chocolates, Christmas movies, some red wine and what not,” I paused, realizing she was actually buying it, “ Of course I’m going home for Christmas. Its finally time they meet Dean,”

“Get married already,” She rolls her eyes but I know she means well. In this never-ending cycle of manuscript readings and sending out rejections, she is pretty much the only person I talk to. One could even call her my friend. We weren’t very close though but we've had a few after-work drinks together. I doubt I actually had any close friends if we are being honest.

“Only if you will be the maid of hour,” I joke.

“Nope. Weddings are not my thing,” She counters, “ You are lucky, you know that? You have this amazing boyfriend on his way to greater heights of success and you are working for one of the upcoming Romance Literary Agents in the country”

I smile, “Hello? We are both working for the same agent,”

“Except you have a higher chance at a promotion than I do. I’m not as dedicated as you in this job and everybody knows that,” she then brightens up, “You know what? How about a beer after work? I heard Martin is working the night at Irish Nights and well, if I can't have a boyfriend half as decent as Dean, I might as well get one good enough for the night,” she winks.

“Just one cocktail,” I answer, chuckling a bit.

“I won’t promise that,” she says, already walking back to her cubicle.

I shake my head, returning to the last manuscript on my desk. I’m more than half-way done with what now feels like just a repetition of what I’d deduced so far was another badly done enemies to lovers trope. I sigh, getting ready to send yet another rejection email. The door to Mr. Randall’s office opens and instantly I pucker up. Were we finally going home? My muscles could certainly use a little stretch. He peers around for a second before letting his gaze settle on me once again. A look, almost as though he was afraid of my reaction to something, danced on his face as he eventually walked over.

“So, how is it coming so far? Any luck finding one decent manuscript?” He questioned. I frowned. My reasons for that were pretty valid. James Randall had never, not even for a single second, talked to me half as nicely as he sounded right about now.

I cleared my throat, “Not yet,”

I shot a glance at Maria who only shrugged in confusion. Wait, was I about to get fired? Some bosses would pull the being nice act before they deliver a bomb on you. The thought made my blood run ice cold for a moment. There was nothing I loved more than my job and my fiancé. It would be an understatement to say they were basically my life.

“Do not stress yourself,” he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose in utter frustration before grunting, “What am I doing?”

I almost asked the same thing but held myself at the last minute. Maybe he was under the influence of drugs. Coming to think of it, I have not seen him sober in the last two years ago after his very public divorce.

When he realized I was looking at him in complete confusion, he hurried on to explain, “My therapist thinks I should start talking to people around me. You know, be a little more engaging,”

“O-Okay,” I was still a little disturbed.

“You know what? Forget about it,” He said and turned around, ready to dive for the door of his office but Maria seemed to have a plan for me.

“Sir?” she fiddled with her fingers, gaining the attention of Mr. Randall, “Racheal and I hanging out at Irish Nights after work. Maybe we could…hangout with our boss too. Call it an end of year office party of some sort,”

The dark brown in his eyes filled with indecision for a flattering moment but then he shrugged, throwing in a weary smile, “Why not?

I mouth a ‘what the f**k’ to Maria but she shrugged, walking over and leaning on the side of my cabin.

“You just invited our boss to drink with us?” I whispered but making sure I didn’t mean the strain in my voice. How could she do that? It was enough I was always on edge in the office because of him and now I had to watch how I drank too?

“He got divorced, okay?”

“Two years ago,”

“Well, you‘ve got to feel sorry for the guy. I mean, look at him? Can you even believe he is only twenty seven?

“What? He is not thirty five?” I gasped but then quickly got a hold myself, “ He is still our boss and I get pretty…talkative when I’m drunk,”

“I thought it's just one cocktail,” she teased me.