His Stand-In Holiday Girlfriend (Christmas in the City Book 1)

by Kasey Stockton

  Chapter Eleven

  Brady pulled into the half-circle driveway and parked behind his aunt’s red Mercedes. He turned toward Ellie, holding her gaze. “Are you ready?”

  She grinned back at him, her face becoming even more beautiful at once. “Come on. We’ve got this.”

  Getting out of the car, Brady circled it to help Ellie out. He held her hand a moment longer than necessary and squeezed her fingers reassuringly. She looked up at him and said, “It’ll be fine.”

  How was she so in tune to what he needed? He nodded his agreeance and locked his car, slipping the keys into his pocket before leading Ellie to the front door and inside the house.

  “Hello,” he said loudly. “We’re here.”

  “Finally! My baby has come!” Brady’s mom came around the corner, her arms outstretched for a hug. She had a long paisley skirt over sandals, and her wavy hair was loose and down to her waist. She stopped suddenly in the hallway, pulling her arms back as she registered that Brady was not alone.

  “Mom,” he said, “let me introduce my friend, Ellie.”

  She blinked once and then Ellie stepped forward. “It’s so good to meet you, Mrs. Garrison!” she said, her cheerful voice matching the tone Brady’s mom previously had.

  “Ellie,” his mom repeated, “you can call me Sharon. Welcome to our home. Can I hug you? I’m afraid I’m a hugger.”

  Ellie stepped forward and hugged his mom with one arm while she held the plant in the other, and Brady watched on with interest. It had been quite a while since he introduced his last girlfriend to his mom, but he vividly remembered Monica sticking a hand out to shake when Sharon had said the exact same thing.

  “Well, should we go in?” Brady asked, eager to get the introductions over with. His mom shot him a curious glance which he promptly ignored.

  “Why don’t you take Ellie’s coat first and be the gentleman I raised you to be?”

  She had a point. He slid his hand over Ellie’s shoulders and took her coat from her arms as she shrugged out of it, revealing a cute red dress thing with overall buttons—was this what she called a jumper? She looked so festive it lit a small smile on his mouth.

  “Thanks,” Ellie said. “Sharon, I’ve brought this for you.”

  Brady swallowed a laugh at his mother’s expression. One would assume she’d never been gifted a plant before.

  Maybe she hadn’t.

  “How cute,” Sharon finally said. “Let’s go in.” She turned away and carried the plant into the living room.

  “You hear that, boyfriend?” Ellie said quietly over her shoulder. “Let’s go in.”

  Brady slid his hand onto the small of Ellie’s back and reminded himself, we are dating. Then he took a deep breath and led Ellie into the large living room.

  Monica was sitting on the sofa between Grandmother and Becky, her smile smug and her eyebrows raised.

  She stood, crossing the room toward them. “Ellie,” Monica said, as though the two were lifelong friends. “How sweet that you could make it.”

  The look on Ellie’s face was a mixture of surprise and disgust and Brady had to swallow a laugh. Was she as taken aback as he was by Monica’s warm demeanor? She certainly appeared so.

  “Monica,” Ellie said simply. She turned her attention toward the remainder of the room and lifted a hand in a general wave. “Hello everyone, I’m Ellie.”

  Brady glanced around the room, taking in his grandmother’s tilted head, as though she angled her ears to hear what her eyes could not show her. His sister’s interested but knowing smile proved she had heard the whole of it from Monica earlier. Beside them, propped against the arm rest was Chad, Becky’s fiancé, and in the two wingback chairs set against the windows were his dad and his uncle Ray, their gazes fixed on the TV.

  Ellie received a few greetings before Brady introduced her to each person one by one, saving his grandmother for last.

  “Where’s Aunt Shelby?” he asked once they reached grandmother, perched on the edge of the sofa cushion daintily.

  “In the kitchen. I am sure you’ll be surprised, though I can assure you it is nothing on my shock, young man, but Shelby has determined to make a pie for dinner this year.”

  “It isn’t catered? I thought everyone settled on Italian.”

  “The rest of dinner is,” Grandmother said. “But I don’t wish to discuss our food right now” —she turned her attention to Ellie standing beside Brady as though she knew exactly where she was— “I want to meet this lovely young woman.”

  Ellie laughed and the sound was a tinkling, magical sound. “You can’t possibly know that I’m lovely but thank you for the compliment all the same.”

  “I can,” Grandmother countered. “I can tell from your tone of voice, and the way you talk. Let’s hope you’re better for my grandson than the last hussy he brought home.”

  Ellie shot Brady a look full of concern, her cheeks going ruddy as she did her best, most likely, to avoid catching Monica’s eye. The room went silent except for the sound of whistles and crowds on the TV.

  Grandmother patted the cushion beside her where Monica had been seated when they first stepped into the room. “Come sit by me and tell me a little about yourself. Are you a redhead?”

  “I am a natural blonde,” Ellie said, “and I go to a salon to make it even blonder.”

  A smile broke out on Grandmother’s face and Brady felt that Ellie would be all right. He left the room before he could be sucked into the conversation and found his aunt and mother together at the stove poking at something.

  “Making a pie?” Brady asked.

  Aunt Shelby spun around, a knife in her hand and rosy cheeks evidence of her work. “This is why I pay someone else to do it. I’m failing miserably. But I had to go and watch the Food Network while my foot healed and now I feel capable of making a pie.”

  “I’m sure it’ll taste great,” Brady said, glancing behind her to the mess in the pie dish waiting on the stove.

  “Don’t worry,” Mom said, holding her phone to her ear. “I’ve got Marie Callender’s on the line right now. I’m going to find out about—oh yes, hello. How many pies do you have available? Uh huh. And what kinds are they?” Her voice trailed off as she walked into the other room.

  Brady reached into the cupboard for a glass and filled it with water from the fridge, downing it in gulps.

  “Nervous?” Aunt Shelby asked, a cat-like smile on her lips.

  “No.”

  She didn’t look as if she believed him. Her dark hair was curled away from her face and her apron barely concealed her designer suit. She did not look like she belonged in this kitchen. Even with flour on her cheek.

  “So who’s the woman?” she asked.

  “Ellie Shaw. You want to come meet her?”

  “And how long have you two been together?”

  Brady refilled his glass and downed it again. “A little while.”

  Aunt Shelby rolled her eyes. “Men,” she said with a little laugh. “Now I want to hear about this gala you’re putting together with Monica. I’ve heard from Gilbert Farr Associates that they’ve received an invitation already. Where’s mine?”

  “Are you prepared to drop massive amounts of money to teach inner city kids to read?”

  Her mouth formed a smile. “I can make that happen.”

  Brady nodded. “Then I’ll have my assistant send you an invitation Monday.”

  Mom stepped back into the room. “Ordered the pies. Who wants to pick them up?”

  “I can!” Becky said brightly from behind Brady, hovering in the doorway between the living room and kitchen. She turned back toward the family. “Monica, you want to come? Brady, you can watch over Chad for a minute, right?” she added facetiously.

  “Sure thing.”

  “Great.” Becky turned back again. “Hey Ellie, you want to join us?”

  Ellie brought her head up, a smile already adorning her face from whatever she had been discussing with Grandmother. She looked t
o Brady for help and he said, “Actually I’d rather she stay with me.”

  “Why?” Becky asked with typical attitude, her dark bangs falling over her eyes.

  Brady shared a smile with Ellie over his sister’s shoulder. To protect her, obviously. He was hoping everyone else interpreted the smile as a sweet look between them, when really they were both trying to figure out how to keep Ellie from a car ride with his nosy sister and crazy ex-girlfriend.

  “Awww,” Aunt Shelby said, coming to the rescue. “Can’t you tell they’re in love?”

  Ellie’s eyes widened imperceptibly, and Brady’s smile grew. “Yeah, Becky. Quit trying to get Ellie alone for an inquisition and go pick up the pies.”

  Becky speared him with a look. “Fine. But when we get back, we’re playing charades. And don’t think you’re getting out of it.”

  Brady wanted to groan. To his dismay, Ellie actually looked excited. Then she looked to Grandmother as though it had just dawned on her that the older, blind woman would be incapable of playing charades. Ellie’s compassion was beautiful.

  Warmth began in his chest and spread down through his body as Brady watched Ellie interact with his grandmother. She was a light. And she was brilliant in her capacity at work, and with other people. He saw it all the time as she interacted with coworkers.

  He needed to be careful or he was going to develop real feelings for his fake girlfriend.

  Chapter Twelve

  Brady’s family wasn’t that odd. Sure, his aunt and uncle looked like they rolled out of a Mercedes commercial and his mom and dad looked like they sold tomatoes at the local farmers market in their spare time. But his grandmother was lovely. And his sister and her fiancé weren’t too bad—nosy, of course. But who wouldn’t be in this situation?

  And then there was Monica. When Brady explained that his ex-girlfriend was coming to the party, Ellie expected it to be a large event with lots of extended family and second cousins he only saw every so often. But this was intimate. It was close family.

  They must really love Monica to include her in something so small.

  Ellie swallowed. She knew she could never measure up to Monica’s perfection. The woman was wearing the most exquisite cream-colored blouse over a pair of designer pants that Ellie was too afraid to get near in case she accidentally brushed against them with her cheap red jumper and ruined them with the velvet fuzz.

  She never felt as childish or dowdy as she did when she measured herself against the smooth, chic being that was Monica. It was very clear to Ellie how Brady found himself going back to the woman time and again.

  Her gaze drifted across the floor to where Brady sat near his dad and uncle, with his soon-to-be brother-in-law on the other side. They were laughing about something to do with the football game, but Ellie could never guess what it was.

  Did Brady know how handsome he was when he laughed like that? Like all of the cares in the world were irrelevant in that moment? Ellie loved when he let go so easily. Well, Ellie in the fake relationship loved it. Once all of this was over and he went back to being her boss, real Ellie couldn’t allow herself to have those feelings.

  Because in real life, HR probably would not be so chill about the two of them dating. And she really loved working for Harver Allen. So far, anyway.

  “Hey Ellie,” Chad hollered across the room, stealing her attention. “What do you say? Forty-niners or the Redskins?”

  “I like the Giants,” she said back with a simple shrug.

  Chad looked horrified. “New York?”

  “No, San Francisco.”

  Chad broke into laughter. “Hey Brady, you’ve got to teach your woman the difference between baseball and football.”

  “My woman can throw a gala together in under a week. I don’t care if she knows the difference between a goal and a homerun. She’s brilliant.”

  Ellie’s chest warmed. He’d called her brilliant. And my woman. Even if it was fake, she liked being called his. “And besides,” she added, “baseball is better than football any day.”

  The men all looked at her as though she was a species they did not understand. Except for Brady. He simply looked amused.

  “Well, the women are in the kitchen…” Roy said in dismissal.

  Ellie tried not to immediately dislike Brady’s uncle because of his sexist comment and turned toward Brady’s grandmother.

  “Beverly,” she said, as the older woman had asked her to do when they first met, “I’ll never understand sports.”

  Beverly’s wrinkled face creased in a smile. “And they will never understand how you can feel that way. It is their common thread, you understand. There is nothing else which ties those men together.”

  “Aside from being related,” Ellie said.

  The older woman shook her head. “Even then, they’ve never gotten along perfectly. My daughters are very different, and their husbands are even more so.”

  Ellie’s gaze floated back to the men. “Brady never mentioned any cousins.”

  Beverly turned her neck to face Ellie, though her cloudy eyes evidenced that she could not see. “Shelby and Roy never had children. I have two grandchildren to my name, and they are both here today.”

  Ellie reached forward and took Beverly’s hand, squeezing her fingers. “How lovely to have all of your family together for the holidays.”

  “It would be even better if any of them bothered to decorate,” she said, surprising Ellie. “They think I don’t know because I’m blind now, but I’ll let you in on a secret. I’m not stupid.”

  Ellie couldn’t help but grin. “Obviously.”

  Beverly continued, “And I can still smell, and feel things quite well. I can tell that my tree is missing, and the holly garland which usually sits on the mantle. I know they have not set out my small village on fake snow. I’ve lived my entire life in northern California, Ellie. The only way I’ve had snow at Christmas is in my tiny little ceramic town.”

  An idea struck Ellie and she glanced around, pausing when her gaze landed on Brady. He was watching her intently, a focused look on his brow. Would he be angry if she moved forward with her plan?

  What did it matter? This woman wanted Christmas, and Ellie was going to do her best to give it to her.

  “Where do you keep your decorations?” Ellie asked softly.

  The woman paused. She truly wasn’t stupid if she could tell from one small question precisely what Ellie intended to do. And Ellie had a feeling Beverly knew exactly what she was planning.

  “In the attic,” she said. “I’ve always been quite organized, you understand. But even I cannot keep the dust from boxes which have sat untouched for the last decade.”

  “I understand. Now, where do I find the attic entrance?”

  “In the ceiling of the hallway upstairs. You’ll know it when you see it.”

  Patting Beverly’s hand, Ellie rose and left the room without so much as a backward glance. She’d felt Brady’s gaze on her, but forged ahead.

  The staircase was just by the front door and Ellie trailed her hand along the polished oak railing as she climbed to the second story. Locating the attic entrance was easy enough and she unhooked the string from the wall and pulled down, revealing a fair amount of cobwebs and a pulldown ladder.

  Once she got the ladder to the floor, she straightened, jumping at the voice just behind her.

  “What are you up to?”

  Spinning, she gave Brady a guiltless smile. “I am setting up Christmas for Beverly.”

  He could not look more confused than if Ellie had been wearing a Santa hat and announced that she was headed to the North Pole.

  “You realize my grandmother is blind, right?”

  “And you realize she isn’t stupid, right?”

  They stared at each other a moment until Brady shook his head. “Are you trying to ruffle some feathers, Ellie?”

  She propped her hands on her hips. “No. I am trying to give your grandmother her snow-covered tiny village that she’s li
ved without for the last ten years because you’re all too lazy to set it up for her. She might not be able to see the decorations, but that doesn't mean she can’t feel their lack.”

  “Fine,” he said, his hands up in surrender. “I think it’s pointless, but you clearly care a lot about this, so let me help.”

  “That’s exactly what I want,” Ellie said as she began climbing the ladder. “A reluctant assistant.”

  Brady’s chuckles wafted up and wrapped around her heart, and Ellie did her best to ignore the feelings he evoked in her chest.

  Beverly hadn’t been kidding about her attic; it was very well organized. Stacks of boxes sat together, neatly labeled and separated enough from each other to indicate which piles belonged together.

  It took the two of them no more than twenty minutes to locate the boxes labeled Christmas and stack them near the attic entrance. They developed a system where Brady stood on the ladder and handed boxes down to Ellie, where she stacked them again in the hallway.

  The front door opened below them just as Brady was putting the ladder back into the ceiling. Becky and Monica came in, laughing and carrying pastry boxes with the familiar Marie Callender’s logo on top.

  “What are you guys up to?” Becky asked, noticing them. She lifted an eyebrow and her lips smirked accordingly.

  “Just setting up Christmas,” Ellie said, as though it were the most normal thing in the world for her to do in a stranger’s home during their family party.

  The women both cast curious, unsure glances at them before turning for the kitchen.

  Ellie spun to face Brady and found him standing just behind her. Her elbow knocked him in the chest and she lifted a hand to press against where she’d smacked him, saying, “I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you were right there.”

  “I’m fine,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving her own.

  She pulled her hand away, realizing belatedly the intimacy of its placement. “Do you want to set up the tree while I get working on the village? Beverly has labeled everything so well, I’m sure it won’t take us long.”

  “I can do that,” he said, his voice low with intensity. How did he manage to make such an innocuous sentence sound so heady?