For a moment I stared dumbly at him, opening and closing my mouth like a fish.
Well done Susie, way to make yourself seem like a totally normal and professional employee. His eyebrow lifted in a way that did funny things to my insides.
"I'm sorry, sir," I stammered out, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "My car has broken down and I can't get anyone out here to look at it until tomorrow. I was hoping to stay here for the night? I promise I won't be a bother."
"You can't stay out here all night," Henry replied with a frown.
I shot to my feet. "I don't have anywhere else to go. There's no way I can walk to town in this weather."
He knelt to retrieve my fallen phone, and I held my breath, praying he wouldn't look too closely at what I had been reading. He held out the phone to me without even glancing at it. "Of course not, but you can't stay in here. It's not designed for people to live in."
I accepted it before shaking my head. "Well, what am I supposed to do? Stay in my car?"
Henry looked pained as he tried to think of a solution before his expression settled into one of resignation. "Well, you'll have to stay at my house for the night then I suppose."
"Stay at yours?" I asked dubiously.
He didn't look keen on the idea, as much as I appreciated the offer. "Well, I don't really see another way around it, do you?" He sighed.
I gestured back to the sofa I had been sat on. "This is surprisingly comfortable and I really don't mind."
Henry seemed unmoved by my cheery smile and I found myself wishing the sofa would eat me to hide me from his scrutiny.
"Absolutely not." He said finally, "I have a guest bedroom. You may as well use it."
His tone told me he was a man used to getting his way. An impression I had already gathered from our very limited interactions.
Still, something flared in me that said argue back and watch how he would react. However that thought was very quickly pushed down by a much stronger voice in me that said, 'did someone say bed?'.
Without giving me an opportunity to say anything further, Henry turned on his heel and marched back towards the door. "Come on," he called over his shoulder, "I was just about to do dinner so you can join me."
The urge to retort something wholly unprofessional rose up, but was cut off by the loud growl of my stomach which reminded me I hadn't eaten anything since the tray of biscuits after lunch.
Tipping the mug of coffee down the sink and leaving the cup on the side, I shot an apologetic look towards the desk of the office manager. She would be fuming if she saw someone not washing up, but hopefully I could get in early and clean it up before she noticed.
Grabbing my bag, I hurried towards the door, where Henry tapped his foot impatiently as I struggled into my still damp coat. As soon as I had buttoned it up he pressed the switch which turned all the office lights off and plunged us both into darkness.
With zero night vision and a total lack of self-awareness, I surged forwards in what I was fairly certain was the vague direction of the door. A yelp escaped me as I stubbed my toe on the side table and immediately lost my balance, falling forward into the darkness. But two warm steady hands caught me and righted me once more.
"Are you ok?" Henry's low voice asked.
The heat of his breath brushed my skin, letting me know how intimately close his face was to my own. I couldn't help but feel thankful for the darkness as my cheeks flushed.
"Susie?" He questioned after I took a moment too long to reply.
No man had any business making my name sound that good in the dark, especially not my boss! "Yes, I, er, thank you." I replied quickly, stumbling over the words.
It had been a fair few months since I had been dating anyone and my libido sure picked a heck of a time to pipe up with its complaint on the matter!
"You can let go of me now, sir." I said, as I noticed his hands still wrapped around my upper arms.
Just as quickly as his hands had caught me, they were gone, and I found myself missing the contact. "You don't need to call me sir, you know." He said after another moment of silence.
"What would you prefer I called you? Mr Carter?" I asked.
"Just Henry is fine, especially if you are invading my home for the night."
Could the signals he was giving me be anymore mixed? I rolled my eyes before remembering he couldn't see me, "Well I told you I was fine to stay here. So it's not like I'm invading. If anything, you invited me."
His frustration was palpable as he searched for the right response. "Yes, I did. You're not risking getting sick by staying here or in your car. You're staying in the guest room and you'll like it." He snapped back.
"You're so bossy." I huffed.
"Well, I am your boss." Henry replied, and I could have sworn I could hear a smile in his voice.
Having never actually seen him do more than a professional business smile, I couldn't be completely sure, but the slight thawing of his icy demeanour was a welcome change.
"Come on, let's get up to the house before you break something or we freeze to death." He said, one hand on my back, gently guiding me to the door.
As soon as it opened, snow swirled in around us both and Henry struggled to pull the door closed behind us.
The path had totally vanished beneath a blanket of thick snow and I could just about see the imprints of Henry's footprints to guide us back to his house.
He quickly overtook me, beckoning to follow through the bushes into his back garden.
My cheeks burned from the cold and the thick layer of snow on the ground was near impossible to walk in. After a few stumbling steps which almost had me facedown in his flowerbed, Henry caught my arm and began towing me towards the patio doors with purpose. I couldn't help but smile at the concern on his face as he stopped me slipping a further three times before we reached his house.
"Thank you." I said gratefully as he helped me into the warmth of the house.
Henry shrugged as if it were no big deal, dragging the door closed behind me and refusing to meet my eye.
The concern was so at odds with his usual behaviour. As soon as I acknowledged anything he did, that was vaguely nice, it was like he immediately closed up.
The room we had stepped into was beautiful, but simple. A fire crackled in a wide brick fireplace framed by a stack of logs on one side and a neatly organised bookshelf on the other.
A large brown sofa sat against one wall facing a TV that was easily twice the size of the one in my small rented flat. A matching brown armchair was angled perfectly in front of the fire, and a laptop was balanced rather precariously on the arm of it. Was that where Henry spent his evenings?
It was lovely, but something noticeable was missing. There was a distinct lack of anything even hinting at Christmas. No tree, no tinsel. Not even a stack of presents wrapped and ready to go. I know not everyone goes for the over-the-top look I am used to, but seeing a home without anything felt so odd.
Perhaps he didn't celebrate Christmas? Was it rude to ask whether that was the case? I knew so little about him.
"Can I take your coat?" Henry interrupted my examination of his home with stilted politeness.
"Thank you," I said, shrugging it off and handing it to him, "You have a beautiful home."
"Thanks." He mumbled back, marching off through the door to the right.
He clearly wasn't used to company, and I wasn't sure whether to follow him or stay where I was. The bookcase caught my eye again, and I found myself drawn towards it and the single shelf of photos in the middle.
They were the only real personal element I could see in the home so far, and my curiosity got the better of me.
There were three framed photos neatly lined up. The first photo was recent and of him stood holding an award with an older couple who just had to be his parents. His mother had an arm wrapped around him and was beaming with pride. His Father stood the other side of him and was a little more like Henry himself and looked quietly pleased. One of his hands lay on Henry's shoulder as if he was saying 'well done lad' or something similar. Henry was wearing his business smile as I liked to call it, and looking a little uncomfortable with the attention.
The next photo was an older picture of a young Henry with a girl who seemed a few years younger than him. They were peering out of a tent and laughing at something off camera. I smiled too. Was it a friend of his? Sister? Cousin maybe?
The third and final image was the same girl maybe a year older wearing a chef's hat and grinning ear to ear as she showed the camera a tray of messily iced red, gold and green cookies.
Henry cleared his throat beside me, alerting me to his presence. "These pictures are lovely. Are they your family?" I asked, turning to face him.
"Yes... Did you want dinner?" Henry asked, looking a little uncomfortable with my interest.
Taking the hint, I allowed the change of subject and turned on a megawatt smile, "Yes, please! I can cook if you want?"
"It's ok," he replied quickly, looking concerned at the thought of letting me loose on his kitchen, "I know where everything is so I'll be able to do it faster."
It was probably a fair reaction. Something about how neat everything was here told me he wouldn't respond well to my untidy style of cookery.
"If you insist. I can be your assistant. Lead the way, chef!" I said with a mock salute.
Henry looked like he wasn't sure if I was mocking him or not, but still led me through to a large country-style kitchen, complete with butler sink and the biggest fridge I had ever seen.
It was the sort of kitchen mum would go mad for. What would she say if she could see me now? Staying in the home of someone who was essentially a stranger without even sending a text to tell anyone what was going on? Probably something about asking me if he was cute or not.
Henry had positioned himself by a large oven and was rolling up his sleeves to reveal distractingly defined forearms. I dragged my attention away to take in the space that looked more show home than heart of the home. How often did he actually use this room?
"What's on the menu, chef?" I asked, leaning against the breakfast bar.
"Is pasta OK?"
"More than OK, I love pasta! What can I do to help?" I bounced on the balls of my feet, ready to do whatever was needed.
"Grab the minced beef and tomatoes from the fridge," Henry replied, pulling pots and pans out of different cupboards, clearly much more comfortable delegating and giving orders.
"What's the magic word?" I laughed, waggling my eyebrows.
"The what?" Henry stopped collecting things and turned to face me looking shocked.
"Nothing! Sorry, sir, I mean Henry." I stammered, diving for the fridge.
I had momentarily forgotten that despite the strange circumstances, Henry was still my boss. Face hidden in the fridge I allowed the coolness to calm the heat in my cheeks as I rummaged for the things he had requested.
For such an enormous fridge, it was oddly empty and gave what could only be described as meals-for-one vibes.
I snuck a glance at Henry. Despite his gruffness, he was very good looking, and it was hard to imagine him being single. Still in the six weeks I had worked for him, I had never seen any sign of a significant other, or heard anyone else mention one.
If it weren't for the fact I had seen him, I might have assumed Henry was just an eccentric old man, rattling around alone in his home in the middle of nowhere.
Pushing the fridge door closed with my hip, I deposited the items he had requested on the worktop alongside the others. "Thank you." Henry said softly.
I glanced sideways and saw the apology in his eyes alongside a stubborn look that told me he knew he was wrong for not saying please, but there was absolutely no chance he was going to admit it.
"You're welcome chef, now set me to work." I replied with a smile.
His small smile was enough to make my heart pick up the pace for a moment. I bit my bottom lip and told my heart to behave itself. We didn't need to assume every time a man was vaguely nice, it meant they were interested.
Plus I was only here for a night and didn't know if he was single or not. That wasn't nearly enough time to know if you liked someone and find out all the things I would need to, to get to know a man.