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Mistletoe Maneuvers Page 8
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“Be careful, Lessa. A man like that, one who’s been so wounded, is not the best choice. It’ll take quite a bit to heal his broken heart.”
“I’m not going to heal his heart.”
“But you would like to.”
A heavy silence filled the room. Was her aunt right? Did she want to heal his heart?
It was true that she couldn’t forget the feel of his hand on hers, the way she had felt when he had looked into her eyes and whispered her name. But it was ridiculous, the whole thing. A romantic fantasy inspired by a romantic setting. That was all.
“Of course not,” Lessa finally responded. “If I feel anything, it’s a crush. It’s not real.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised you have a crush on him. It’s the first time you’ve been alone with a man in how long?”
“I’ve been busy,” she said defensively.
“Yes, yes, I know. You’ve been working. As I’ve told you before, a company can’t take you out to dinner. They can’t bring you soup when you’re sick. They can’t keep you warm on cold winter nights.”
“I get it.”
“A company can keep you busy, but it can’t prevent loneliness. I’d like to think that if I’m not here next Christmas you’ll have someone else beside you.”
“Don’t talk like that. You’ll be here. As for my love life, who knows? I must admit, I’m a little more hopeful than I have been.”
“Lessa,” her aunt said, “a man like Rick may serve as a distraction, but that’s all. A relationship with him is a complication you don’t need.”
“Don’t worry, Gran. I’m not interested in having a relationship with Rick Parker.”
She had told her aunt a partial truth. She may not want a relationship with him, but one thing was certain. She was dying to kiss him again.
By the time Lessa left work, it was close to seven o’clock. The air was crisp and it felt as if it might snow. She paused to wrap her scarf around her neck as she glanced at the store window display. It was a scene right out of a Christmas fairy tale. Snow was falling as a couple kissed underneath trees lined with mistletoe. Just as she started feeling sentimental about the special holiday approaching, a pellet of freezing rain hit her on the nose. She glanced at the cloud-covered sky. The rain was a reminder that in real life, mistletoe trees did not exist and it didn’t always snow on Christmas. And sometimes, as much as she and her aunt might wish otherwise, there was no one to kiss under the mistletoe.
She turned away from the window and hurried to the street corner. From the crowd of people desperately trying to hail a cab, she knew her chances of getting one were slim to none. And raining or not, she had promised her aunt a Christmas tree. She would just have to hoof it to the tree vendor as fast as she could. As the horns blew and the people pushed and shoved, her thoughts once again drifted back to palm trees, warm, quiet nights and the man she had kissed.
She had to snap out of this. It was one thing to please a business partner, quite another to dream about seducing him. Although she had spent the day putting together her Antigua deal, pesky thoughts kept interrupting her noble motives. Like how damn good he looked in swim trunks and the expression on his face when he’d opened the door and seen her half-naked.
In fact, several times that day, she had found herself at the water fountain outside his office, unable to quench her thirst. She was as bad as a teenager with a crush. But she had to forget about what happened in the Bahamas. She was not a kid anymore; she was the chairman of the board and Rick was her partner.
A partner whom she had barely seen since their return. In spite of his desire to cultivate the pretense of a romance, the most contact they had had was an occasional hello in the hallway. There were no meaningful glances, no secret rendezvous, no-
“Lessa?”
She turned around. Rick was behind her, looking every bit the dapper executive. He was wearing a black cashmere coat with a maroon scarf tucked inside. “Hi,” she managed to say.
“Here,” he said, opening his umbrella. “Stand under this.”
“No thanks. Contrary to rumors, I won’t melt.”
“I insist.” He smiled as he stepped closer, sheltering her from the rain. “Which way are you going?”
“Fifty-eighth and First,” thinking of the Christmas tree lot.
“My car is parked in a lot near here. I’ll drive you.” Her heart jumped into her throat at the thought of being alone with him. They walked to the next corner in silence.
As they waited for the light to change, she could feel him looking at her. Suddenly self-conscious, she smoothed her damp hair and dabbed at the mascara she was certain had smeared under her eye. “I must look like a drowned rat,” she said.
“You look beautiful,” he said softly.
Beautiful. He said beautiful.
Suddenly she was aware of him, very aware. His masculine presence seemed to fill the night. She felt a chill run down her spine and wrapped her arms around her damp trench coat. In her rush to get out of the house that morning, she had taken a coat that was better suited to a warm spring day than a blustery winter night.
“Hold this,” he said, handing her the umbrella. He shrugged off his overcoat and gave it to her. “Put this on.”
“No, that’s all right. I’m fine.”
“I insist.”
“But then you’ll be cold.”
“Put it on,” he said again. After she hesitated, he added, “I think you know that I’m every bit as stubborn as you.”
Once again she found herself obeying. She wrapped his coat around her, reveling in its musky scent.
“How have things been going for you at the office? Have you been having an easier time?” he asked as they walked down Fifth Avenue. Little gold lights sparkled on the barren trees, and store windows beckoned with spectacular holiday displays.
“No one’s poisoned my coffee but they’re not exactly standing in line to shake my hand either. I did overhear some women discussing me in the bathroom however. Seems that word of our overnight in the Bahamas is making the gossip circuit. Quite frankly, I think some of the women in the office are hoping that we are having a romance. That maybe our office romance will pave the way for more.”
“What do you mean, pave the way?”
“Come on now,” she teased. “You’ve noticed how the women there flock around you.”
He shook his head and squinted his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Rick, you must know that many women who work with you harbor a secret, and sometimes not-so-secret, crush. They know you have a rule about avoiding office romances. They figure you getting involved with me can only be good. After all, if you broke your rule with me, then maybe you’ll break it with them as well.” There. She had spelled it out.
“So they’re assuming we’re going to break up?”
“I think it’s safe to say the answer is a big yes. After all, you’re not exactly a one-woman man.”
“I see,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. He was obviously enjoying this conversation. “I’ll tell you what. When it comes time to break up, I’ll let you do the honors.”
“That would be quite a claim to fame. I fire you and break up with you. I’ll go down in history.”
He laughed, a deep and hearty response. She couldn’t help but feel proud to have elicited such a reaction. His laughs were few and far between. He hesitated and the look in his eyes softened. “Well then, we’ll have to give them something to talk about tomorrow night.”
As she looked into his eyes, her heart jumped. Tomorrow night was the Christmas party, an event she had worked hard to produce. Up until now, she had viewed it with anxiety, yet another project for which she would be held accountable. But the thought of attending it with Rick, the thought of having to pretend once again that they were lovers, was enough to elicit a tingle of excitement. She cleared her throat, pretending not to be affected. “That’s right,” she said.
She glanced beside her, sudd
enly realizing that they were in front of Saks department store. Every Christmas, Saks decorated their windows with magnificent Christmas displays. This year’s were the most amazing yet. Each window contained a mannequin dressed in haute couture, posed in fabulous scenes meant to represent a fantasy.
The window directly in front of them contained a mannequin dressed like a woman from the eighteen-hundreds. She looked elegant and wealthy in her diamond tiara and jewelry. But she sat in a slump in an expensive chair, her beautiful gown flouncing around her gold slippers. In her hand was a letter from her lover stating that he would not be back for Christmas.
“I think she’s supposed to represent the woman who seems like she has everything, but she herself feels like she has nothing.”
“What does that have to do with Christmas?”
“Well, I think it speaks to the fact that for some people, Christmas can be a very lonely time of year. It’s hard to be single during a holiday that emphasizes family.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” he said.
She had not expected such a personal comment and it caught her off guard. “I guess so. There are times when I wish that I had a husband and kids like some of my friends. Times when I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing out on something.”
“I think that’s human nature, though, isn’t it? To wonder if perhaps the grass isn’t greener?”
“You feel that way, too?”
“Sure. Sometimes even I wish that-”
“You had someone to kiss under the mistletoe?” she said before she could stop herself. She winced. “What am I saying? You’ve got plenty of women to kiss under the mistletoe.”
“I know what you mean,” he said, hurrying to her defense. “And the answer is yes. Sometimes even I wish that I had someone to kiss under the mistletoe. Someone that I loved.”
She appreciated Rick making such a personal admission. He may be a pirate, but it was becoming obvious that he still had a heart.
As they stood there, they were joined by a couple carrying a Christmas tree. Off to their right, a young boy sat on his father’s shoulders as he hugged a bag from FAO Schwarz.
“Are you done with your shopping?” she asked Rick as they turned to the corner.
“I haven’t started. But usually I just give gift certificates. What about you?”
“My aunt is always complaining about the cold, so I got her a cashmere sweater and scarf.”
Lessa stopped. The Rockefeller tree, sparkling with thousands of tiny multicolored lights, stood before them. “Do you mind if I take a closer look?” she asked, nodding toward Rockefeller Center. “I don’t usually walk this way.”
“I’m in no hurry,” he said.
“Are you too cold?” she asked. “I’d be happy to give you back your coat.”
“I’m just right,” he said, taking her arm as they crossed the street. It was the protective gesture of a gentleman, but suddenly there was an electrical current in the air. Something had shifted between them. By that subconscious response, they had gone from co-workers sharing a stroll to a man and woman sharing an evening out.
They walked to the edge of the street balcony and looked down on the skaters below. Despite the rain, it was a beautiful scene. The giant Christmas tree, the skaters, the shoppers, all framed against a background of sparkling lights. She inhaled deeply, smelling air redolent with fresh pine and roasted chestnuts. “I love this time of year,” she said quietly.
He smiled. “Follow me.” He took her hand and led her into the building beside them.
What did he have in mind? He glanced at her and winked as the guard got approval for them to enter. Rick led her to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. When the doors opened, he led her down a hall to the stairwell. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“Up,” Rick said, climbing the stairs. “A friend of mine owns this building. Every year he has a Christmas party on the roof.” He reached the top and opened the door.
She followed him out and stopped. Rockefeller Center, lit up in all its holiday glory, was directly in front of them. “It’s beautiful,” she said, impressed that he had taken the time to show it to her.
He moved closer, holding the umbrella over her head. Their eyes locked. After a moment’s pause, he broke the trance and looked away. “I should get going.”
“Me, too,” she said. “I promised my Gran that I would bring back a tree tonight.”
“By yourself?”
“I always do it by myself.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. If any woman is capable of carrying a tree home by herself, it’s you. Come on,” he said, taking her arm. “Let’s go get that tree. There’s a place I know on Lexington. It’s a short walk from there to your apartment.”
“But what about your car-” she said, surprised by his offer.
“I’ll come back for it.”
“You don’t have to help me.”
“I insist,” he said. “Who knows? Maybe it’ll help me capture some Christmas spirit.”
“Then you have to take back your coat,” she said, staunching his protests.
When they made their way back outside, Lessa stopped. The rain had turned to snow. “Look at this,” she exclaimed excitedly as she stretched out her hand to catch a snowflake. “A perfect time to get a tree.”
He put away his umbrella and, declining a cab, together they walked through the white-dusted world.
The Christmas-tree place could be seen and heard from a block away. “Here Comes Santa Claus” was playing over a speaker, and blinking, multicolored lights stretched from a lamppost to the greengrocer/tree store. A giant plastic Santa sat on the corner, smoking a pipe and watching over the festivities. Usually, picking out a tree was something Lessa did fairly quickly, as if knocking a chore off her list. But not tonight. Tonight she was more than happy to take her time. The salesman pointed to a fat evergreen and said to Rick, “Why don’t you get your sweetheart the best tree we have?”
Lessa began to correct the man, but stopped. What difference did it make if a stranger thought they were lovers?
Rick just grinned and said, “How about it, sweetheart?”
“If that’s what you want, dear,” she said, playing along.
Before she could stop him, Rick had bought the Christmas tree. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said.
“I have a secret motive. I wanted to get first dibs on the front. You take the stump,” Rick said, holding on to the prickly part. “And lead the way.”
Actually he had the tree more or less by the middle and was hefting the majority of the weight. “But you’ve got the worst part.”
“First dibs, remember? No argument.”
She smiled at his gallant act, accepted his kindness and started down the sidewalk.
“You usually do this by yourself?” he asked.
“I usually don’t pick the biggest tree on the lot.”
He laughed and raised it over his head to avoid hitting some fellow walkers. She knew the tree was heavy but Rick made it seem as light as a feather. Once again, she remembered the muscles she’d seen in his arms and torso. She had no doubt he was capable of carrying the whole tree and more. The shrill ring of a cell phone cut off her thoughts. “Hold on a second,” Rick said, putting down the tree. He swung open his phone. “Hello.” His voice visibly softened. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. No, don’t leave. Give my apology to your family. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She felt her heart drop. It was a woman, that much was obvious. And whomever she was, she was waiting for him with her family. Why had he told Lessa he wasn’t seeing anyone right now? Had he lied to her?
“This is it,” she said, nodding toward her brownstone.
She buzzed herself in and together they carried the tree up the flight of stairs to her apartment. The smell of pine filled the hall as her thoughts drifted back to the woman who had called, the one who was waiting for him. Lessa couldn
’t believe she had actually admitted to Rick that she wished for someone to kiss under the mistletoe. Regardless of what he had said, she doubted he was ever lacking a date under the mistletoe, love or no love.
She unlocked her apartment and led him inside. “Right in the corner,” she said. The tree barely made it, skimming the ceiling. “Perfect,” she said. “Now it feels like Christmas.”
Rick’s black cashmere coat was covered with needles. Without thinking, she brushed them off and said, “Thank you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. Then he leaned toward her and for a split second she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead he brushed a piece of wet hair away from her lips.
It was an act of intimacy, a lover’s touch. She forced herself to move, determined to mask her inner turmoil with a deceptive calmness. Too tongue-tied to say anything, she opened the door.
He smiled but there was something in his eyes that gave her pause. A sadness. With her heart in her throat, she said, “Have fun tonight.”
Rick barely made it to the awards dinner in time.
“Where have you been?” Betty asked as he hurried though the door. “I thought you were going to be here at eight.”
“I was…delayed.”
“Delayed?” she asked, taking his coat and straightening his tuxedo tie. “I barely saw my family tonight. I missed our weekly dinner out because I was worried I wouldn’t make it in time.”
She had already told him that when she’d called. “I’m sorry,” Rick said. “I ran into Lessa on the way out.”
“So now it’s ‘Lessa,’ is it?” Betty teased.
“She was on her way to get a Christmas tree,” Rick said, ignoring her comment. “She needed help.”
“Let me get this straight,” Betty said, taking a step back and raising an eyebrow. “You were late to the New York Business Dinner because you needed to help Alessandra Lawrence get her Christmas tree? I’m shocked. You hate Christmas and everything surrounding it.”
“This wasn’t about Christmas. It was about helping someone.”