Jingle Bells

It's beginning to look a lot like christmas

On Monday, she brings him his coffee in his new mug, a proud grin on her face as she hands him the hot drink.

"Not too hot for your hand, is it Mr. Bowen?" She asks, smugly.

"No, it's not. Thank you, Nina."

He takes a sip of the drink and sets it down, looking at the festive candies in his jar again and picking up a red Hershey's kiss.

She starts to leave, but he stops her.

"You're forgetting something," he says.

"I am?" She immediately looks at the ceiling as she no doubt goes over her mental list of everything she was supposed to get done before getting him his morning coffee. He knows that one comment made her nervous, especially after her performance at Friday's party.

"I believe I owe you a kiss."

She snaps her eyes up to his, wide as saucers. "That was only because we were under the mistletoe-" she sputters.

He wordlessly tosses her a Hershey's kiss in her direction. It bounces off her nose before falling to the ground. She frowns and picks it up.

"A Hershey's kiss?" Realization crosses her features. "Ohhhh, I get it. You owe me a kiss." She holds up the candy and smiles. "Smooth, Mr. Bowen."

He sighs and immediately knows he's going to regret his next choice of words. He leans his elbows on his desk and closes his eyes, rubbing his temples and muttering, "just call me Ricky, Nina."

She's silent, and he hesitantly opens his eyes to look up at her.

Of course, she's grinning.

"Only if you call me Nini."

He rolls his eyes and sighs. "Alright, fine."

She holds her hand out, and he raises an eyebrow, taking it. She shakes his hand firmly.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Ricky."

He runs his free hand down his face, letting out a quiet chuckle at the girl's antics, unable to really do anything else.

"Sure, you too."

"I'd be a great businesswoman, huh? Like you, but nicer." Her eyes widen. Again. "I didn't mean that! I- I meant nicer as in... with nicer employees. Because your assistant, man, she's a handful, am I right?"

"Just..." he shoo's her away with his hands, and she swallows and hurries out with her head down. Once she's gone, he crosses his arms on his desk and buries his face in them, letting out a noise between a whine and a groan, which turns into a full-blown laugh as their conversation replays in his head.

"You're something," he mutters to himself, sitting up and running a hand down his face again. "Man... you're something."

His finger slips and turns up the radio, and he finds himself humming along to the familiar song.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

He continues working, a small smile playing on his lips.

Soon the bells will start, and the thing that will make them ring is the carol that you sing right within your heart...
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