by C J Burright
“Right? He’s always slippery, but this year he’s upped his game. The bets are insane right now. I’m having trouble keeping up with all the new wagers. Everyone’s in a tizzy, especially since he hasn’t scored a smooch with you yet.”
“Jerks,” Gia muttered, straightening her hat.
“Sh-h.” Karen squeezed her arm, a signal for silence, as footsteps approached. She lifted her phone, camera ready—a smart move. Ian would demand evidence if he believed there were no eyewitnesses. The door was inset several feet, covered by an awning—the perfect setup. He wouldn’t see Lisette until it was too late.
Gia tensed. The winter air chilled her cheeks and minimized any odors from the dumpster. With the almost-evening gloom creeping across a sky promising rain soon, she could easily imagine herself in one of her siblings’ shoes, staking out a crime scene, hunting for a criminal.
Ian absolutely fit the bill. He possessed all sorts of criminal elements beneath his slick surface and he absolutely made her internal radar beep an alarm. The mere fact that she was stalking him—even if all in wicked holiday fun—should be another warning, like thunder growling in the distance, the sign of an inevitable storm. But this week she’d found it easier to drag herself out of bed and face the day, and she wouldn’t regret it.
Lisette appeared around the corner, wrapped up in a peacoat that was a lovely shade of fuchsia with a matching scarf, hat and gloves. She walked at a brisk gait, her keen gaze trained on the back door. For a woman of seventy years, she was slim, sharp and sly. Her nickname around the office—always whispered with reverence and a tinge of fear—was ‘the Silver Coyote’.
The creak of the door opening made Gia hold her breath. The crash was coming. She could hardly wait.
Lisette made it to the doorway just as a man in a dark overcoat stepped out.
Chuck from Advertising almost collided with Lisette, apologizing with a smile.
“Dammit,” Karen muttered, lowering her phone. “O’Connor slithered out of our trap again.”
Gia smiled while Lisette pointed at the mistletoe and puckered her lips. She collected a kiss from Chuck, who didn’t seem to mind at all, even when Lisette fisted his coat and held him there longer than necessary. “Lisette’s an animal. I hope I’m at least half the woman she is when I’m seventy.”
“Girl, you won’t be single at seventy, still working because you have nothing better to do with your time.” Karen flipped her hand in dismissal and stood.
“Have you been consulting your crystal ball on my behalf?” Gia asked, still in her crouch.
Karen snorted. “You’re a princess, G. And if princesses don’t get their happily ever after, there’s no hope for us peasants.” She whipped the end of her white scarf over her shoulder. “I’m going home. Clearly, Ian outmaneuvered us and is a no-show. See you tomorrow.”
Gia remained crouched by the dumpster as Chuck and Lisette walked to their cars together, temporarily connected by a moment under the mistletoe. Karen’s last words were like tiny barbs in her chest. With Joey, she’d believed in fairy tales. With him gone, the magic had leaked away. She didn’t share Karen’s confidence that she wouldn’t be single at seventy, taking kisses wherever and however she could. She’d had true love and lost it. The odds of finding another one, to find another man who loved her for exactly who she was—she swallowed the dry knot in her throat—were astronomically low.
She didn’t want to be alone. She wanted Joey back, wanted what they’d had together, but that dream was over. Maybe Lisette had it right—find any slivers of happiness and fist them with both hands for as long as possible, whether they were real or not.
The thought made her stomach hurt. She straightened and stuffed her hands into her coat pockets. Instead of going to her car and driving home to her cheerfully colored but hollow house, she trudged to Main Street and wandered down the sidewalk.
Main Street, where Hamilton & Associates sat dead center in town square, of course, was almost as festive as her decorating labors inside the office. Lampposts were draped in boughs of holly and sparkling ribbons. Storefronts flashed with lights of every color and some display windows featured winter settings with snowmen and Santa, nativity scenes or small Christmas trees heavy with orbs and stars and tinsel. The aroma of caramel corn drifted on the chilled air and, as sweet as it smelled, she couldn’t think about eating anything.
She stopped outside Heelcandy, her favorite store in Graywood, where every employee knew her by name and texted her whenever new shoes a Glitter Girl might appreciate arrived. Usually, she couldn’t afford them, but that never erased the fun of looking and drooling. Last year, Joey had joked about buying her a pair of rocker boots for Christmas instead of the sparkling pink stilettos she loved and still wore.
Gia blew out a breath, watching a train slowly carrying booties and pumps around a track beneath a Christmas tree hung with heels of all types and holiday socks. She had to figure out how to go on with the Joey-shaped hole in her heart, but she had no idea how.
“Dreaming of how you would have spent your bet winnings, Ms. Hellman?” Ian’s drawl was followed by a draft of his cologne, and his heat rolled over her as he stepped beside her and faced the window, as if he’d intended to shop for shoes.
“Something like that,” she said, not looking at him. As much as she’d come to enjoy their bantering, she wasn’t in the mood. And she certainly didn’t need all his…Ianness to remind her that she was single again, to remind her how easy it would be to drown her loneliness for a night in his arms. Because it was suddenly very tempting to surrender just to feel again, even if it was temporary.
He paused and even though he imitated her pose of window shopping, his gaze met hers in the window reflection. “I’ve always preferred heels over flats.” He shrugged. “I like feeling tall.”
The unexpected statement brought her a startled laugh.
He glanced at her sidelong. “Surely you don’t find it emasculating if a man wears heels, do you?”
“Not at all. I think you’d look great in those leopard print sandals on top of the caboose.”
“They don’t have my size. I already checked.”
Laughing through a sigh, she finally looked at him. “What are you doing here, Ian?”
He lifted his chin and pivoted her way, his blue eyes sparkling like ice in sunlight. “I work at this place called Hamilton & Associates next door. You might have heard of it. They employ only the best lawyers and rarely lose a case, not that I’d know anything about those losses.”
“Maybe that’s because they don’t take on losing cases.”
“Not in the least. Every win is borne of pure skill and superior persuasion.”
“Or manipulation.” She arched an eyebrow.
He smirked. “I was lured this way by sushi at Kaito’s across the street, but then I saw this positively delightful pair of…” His gaze drifted from her eyes all the way to her toes in a slow perusal.
She glared and planted one hand on her hip. “Your next word had better be ‘eyes’ or ‘feet’, O’Connor.”
“Shoes.” His smile was wicked.
“Nice save.” Gia returned her attention to the display as the train carrying its gifts of shoes emerged through a mountain tunnel complete with snow-frosted trees and a miniature squirrel. “Enjoy your sushi.”
He hesitated, still facing her. “I suspect I appreciate a finely made pair of shoes almost as much as you do,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft and without any of the customary casual flirt. “And no matter their cost or how much I polish, repair or carefully stow them away after using, they never last. But the beauty of it is that there are always more shoes to choose from and, inevitably, I find another pair that, while not quite the same, are equally valued.”
Gia studied him for a moment, searching for any trace of trickery in his handsome features, but his expression was sincere, not even a hint of a smirk on his kissable mouth. As much as they both loved their shoes and fashion, she knew
he hadn’t been talking about footwear at all. She wasn’t sure she liked that the ache in her heart had suddenly disappeared.
“Stop it.” She straightened her hat, needing to keep her hands occupied so she wouldn’t give in to the unhealthy urge to slip her arms around his lean waist, lay her head against his delicious chest and see if he’d pretend to be a compassionate person and hold her for a few seconds. “You’re making me think you’re almost human.”
“Don’t worry, Ms. Hellman. I’m sure I’ll do something tomorrow that will remind you of what I truly am.” He winked.
“Which is?”
His smile was all wolf as he turned away and strolled across the street toward Kaito’s, his hands in his pockets.
“My vote is manimal!” she called after him, unable to stop a smile. Ian might be a predator in a designer suit, but she wasn’t an innocent lamb easily led astray, no matter what unexpected depths he hid beneath the trappings.
Resuming her Main Street wanderings, her steps a bit lighter, Gia left her shoe dreams behind and followed the sweet scent of caramel corn.
* * * *
Early Friday afternoon, Ian leaned back against the windowsill in the law library and frowned at the book in his hands, rereading the same paragraph for the third time. There were several potential reasons for his failure to focus. He hadn’t slept much the previous night, but that was his usual state of being. It was Friday afternoon and the deadline for the case he was researching wasn’t for another week—two strikes against his current lack of motivation. But as much as he wanted to place the blame on mundane issues, he knew the true culprit for his condition.
Gia Hellman.
The words on the page blurred as his thoughts wandered again to her perfect, pouty mouth and the smile he’d coaxed from her the previous night. What little sleep he’d managed to get had included dreams of her pressed against him, both with and without clothing.
“Did you truly believe you could escape me this year, Mr. O’Connor?”
At the unexpected voice near his elbow, he lifted his gaze from the book he hadn’t been reading. Lisette smiled up at him, her wrinkled lips sparkling with raspberry-colored gloss.
Damn. No matter what he’d told Karen earlier in the week, he didn’t particularly care to casually dole out kisses in the office, in public, where other people waited and watched with glee. It was demeaning. And this year, he’d wanted to defy all bets, except for the one he had on Gia. He’d been so distracted today that he’d forgotten to check for nearby mistletoe before he’d planted his ass.
A flash of golden hair vanished behind a bookcase near the door and he hid a resigned smile. He didn’t dare do a survey of his surroundings now. Gia might have won this round, but he was proud enough to want to make her believe he’d meant to lose…or at least didn’t mind it.
“Lisette,” he said, snapping the book shut and placing it on the table beside him. “Looking lovely as always—and not a minute past forty. What’s your secret?”
“Sex,” she said, her expression utterly serious. “Lots of it. Keeps a girl limber and properly oiled up.”
He managed to keep his features schooled into mild interest and his hands relaxed—a small miracle, considering that the urge to scrape off the horrible taste now on his tongue was a powerful one. “Keep up the regimen and you’ll outlast all of us.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, going for chivalrous and hoping it would be enough.
“Are you testing me with old-fashioned gestures, young man?” Her eyes flashed, but she didn’t pull her hand away, and she leaned toward him. Maybe he’d mistaken her annoyance for something altogether else. “No weaseling out of your obligation.” She pointed up at the snowman decoration hanging from the ceiling, where a sprig of mistletoe nestled among the holly in its black felt hat. Of course.
There was no missing the muffled snicker from behind the bookcase.
“I believe you’re under a misapprehension.” Holding Lisette’s gaze, he pulled her closer and slipped an arm around her waist. “Kissing you is never an obligation. You should know that.”
Lisette licked her lips.
Gia doesn’t know it yet, but she will be making it up to me for this moment.
Before he could reconsider—or run like hell—he dipped Lisette. And as she squawked in surprise, he kissed her…long, with great enthusiasm, and—God help him—tongue. When he lifted her upright again and released her, she wobbled, her eyes glazed, her lip gloss smeared.
Leaving the tome on the table and Lisette to her stupor, he strolled away and hoped his expression didn’t reveal anything, while he wiped the damp and color from his mouth. As he drew abreast of the bookcase where Gia pretended to be searching for a volume in the family law section, he paused.
“Are you often prone to voyeurism, Ms. Hellman?” He leaned a shoulder against the cabinet and folded his arms. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips moist. The sight made his gut clench and his blood pump hot. He’d hoped that while he’d kissed Lisette, Gia had imagined she had been the one pressed against him, that it had been her mouth his tongue invaded. The mere thought that he’d been successful made the moment of suffering completely worthwhile.
“I have no idea what you’re referring to, Mr. O’Connor.” Sniffing, she lifted her chin and finally met his gaze. Her eyes blazed, glittering and blue, hot enough that it took an effort not to slide closer to her soft heat and inhale her sweet spun-sugar perfume until it cured his disease.
“Are you implying that wasn’t you snickering when Lisette found me beneath a cleverly hidden leaf of mistletoe?” He arched an eyebrow.
“That was Karen. I’m far too dignified to giggle in the library.” Her smile flew free—wide, mischievous and all sorts of sex-kitten.
For a moment, his world stopped completely and nothing beyond Gia existed. He’d seen her smile a hundred different times in the years she’d been employed at Hamilton & Associates, but never had she aimed such a smile at him before. It was like a shot of sunshine—warm, potent and undeniably world-rocking.
The next second, time resumed with a hard hammering in his chest. He needed to exorcise her from his mind, alleviate the need for her from his body. She was too treacherous to his status quo.
“In case you were considering a claim that Gia is an unbiased witness to your mistletoe fail,” Karen said, appearing from behind another bookcase, “I’ve got the kiss on camera.” She lifted her cell phone and grinned.
Wonderful. His kiss with Lisette was eternalized and he had little doubt it would be on the Internet within the half hour. “I’d never question Ms. Hellman’s integrity, nor would I deny my actions.”
“Then perhaps you’d like to give it another round?” Lisette sidled up to his elbow, an almost-zealous gleam in her eyes. “I don’t require mistletoe.”
Perhaps he shouldn’t have kissed her so thoroughly, merely to throw Gia off. “I’m flattered, Lisette, but I believe I’ve contributed to your fountain of youth enough for one day. When it comes to mistletoe and bets, I abide by the rules.”
“No one ever conquered the world by sticking to the rules, but I’ll give you time to reconsider. We’ll talk after the Christmas decorations are done. There’s always New Year’s Eve.” She squeezed his biceps, taking her time sliding her fingers along his muscle, and walked away.
Ian struggled to keep his expression bland until Lisette was out of sight.
“I’m already thinking up a dozen different bets for New Year’s Eve.” Karen slung her arm around Gia’s shoulders. They both grinned like fiends.
“I’m sure.” He pushed away from the bookcase. “See you tomorrow at the party, ladies.” By New Year’s Eve, he’d have Gia Hellman completely and thoroughly out of his system and wouldn’t care about investing in any office betting pool.
But that wouldn’t stop him from wringing every ounce of enjoyment from her in the process. His shoulders relaxed as he left the library. Tomorrow night would be unquestionably galvanizing.
The country club was ablaze with enough twinkling lights that the mansion looked like an enchanted winter palace waiting for royalty to arrive.
“Look at that dazzle,” Gia said as she pulled into the parking lot with Adara brooding in the passenger seat. “The sparkle, the color, the eau de holiday cheer. There’s absolutely no way you can’t have a good time in a place like that.” She parked her car and turned the engine off. “That’s Christmas magic happening right there.”
Adara flicked an unimpressed glance at the mansion looming beyond the border of a storybook hedge maze. “That’s a whole lot of money wasted by lawyers who charge exorbitant prices and will use whatever excuse possible to booze it up. Nothing magical about that.”
“You’ve never seen Mr. Hamilton in an elf hat.” Gia grinned.
Adara sighed. “This is going to be horrible, isn’t it?”
Releasing her seatbelt, Gia shifted to face her. “It’s going to be fun. Say it.”
“I don’t like to lie.” She bared her teeth.
“Dar,” she said, adding some command to her tone, “I didn’t say a word when you bought a black dress for the party.”
She frowned down at her plain black dress with its high-neck collar, long sleeves and baggy fit, pretending to misunderstand. “I thought little black dresses were ideal for parties.”
“Only if they’re sexy—which yours isn’t—and on any other occasion besides Christmas. Stop interrupting. I said nothing when you rejected eyeliner, mascara, some color in your cheeks, lipstick, even a damn smudge of sparkles on your elbow.” She narrowed her eyes and pointed at Adara with the keys. “I know you don’t want to be here and if you don’t want to get glamorous with me, I’ll let it slide this year, but this is as much for you as it is for me.”
Adara folded her arms and stared at her, needing no words to convey her displeasure.
Gia stared right back. “It is. We each made promises and we’re going to keep them.” She softened her voice. “We’re never going to get through this if we don’t at least try, Dar.”