Carrie had helped him pass those arduous courses required to get into college; he’d never forgotten her for that. And now there was one more thing he wouldn’t forget. Carrie Jones had morphed into one hell of a beautiful woman.
When he’d pulled into the parking lot he’d noticed her immediately. How could he not? Her snug jeans had shown off womanly curves he didn’t remember her possessing in high school, and under her close-fitting jacket, it appeared she’d filled out in other areas as well. But it was her hair that had tipped him off to her identity. Beneath the knit cap she wore, her vibrant strawberry-blond hair glinted in the morning sunlight. He’d never met anyone else with hair that particular color; that was when he realized that the woman he couldn’t take his eyes off of was his former study buddy, the one girl in high school he’d been able to talk to without acting like a damn fool.
He’d thought about Carrie over the years. Wondered how she was doing, if she’d married and if she’d stayed in Grass Valley. He recalled her parents were always fighting. He’d felt sorry for her back then and, selfishly, had been relieved his parents weren’t like hers.
There was no wedding ring. He’d scoped that out fairly quickly. Then he’d made sure to get her phone number. Oh yeah, he’d be calling Carrie Jones, and it would be soon. Very soon.
* * *
“Are you going to the Christmas party?”
Carrie peeled the paper from her turkey sandwich and looked up to meet the inquisitive gaze of Gillian Snow. Gillian was one of the junior associates at Meadows, Beck and McCoy, the law firm in nearby Auburn Carrie had joined last January.
“I’m not sure yet.” Carrie’s stomach rumbled. She and Gillian had just worked four solid hours and, since Subway was close to their office, they’d dashed over for a quick lunch.
“Do you have other plans that night?” Gillian asked as she pulled her straw from its wrapper.
“No. But I’m not big on office parties,” Carrie said. For years she’d avoided holiday get-togethers, and had been very successful at it by tossing out that lame but surprisingly effective excuse.
“You should at least put in an appearance,” Gillian said with a look of mild exasperation.
Carrie picked up her sandwich. “Is it mandatory?”
“No, but they notice things like that.” Gillian plunged her straw into her cup then took a long draw of her diet soda. “This is your first Christmas with the firm. You need to show them you’re a team player.”
“I am a team player,” Carrie pointed out. “And so are you. Look at us. We’re working on a Saturday.
“That’s true.” Gillian nodded. “But you need to be more visible.”
“I prefer to lay low and help out you overworked and massively underpaid associates.” Carrie grinned as Gillian rolled her eyes. “Seriously, as a paralegal, I’m on the bottom of the totem pole. I don’t think attending a Christmas party is going to change that.”
“Maybe. But it’s a chance to network. Let the suits get to know you.” Gillian set her soda on the table. “Just consider it, okay?”
“Okay.” Carrie took a bite of her sandwich, a bit queasy at the thought of going to the party. If she had her way, she’d get in her warm bed the day before Thanksgiving and not show her face until the second day of January. Sort of like Punxsutawney Phil, the world-famous groundhog. Good old Phil didn’t like the holiday season either. He slept straight through until early February when some guys dressed up in old-timey suits and hats took him out of his cozy bed and asked him to predict the end of winter. How nice it would be if she could hibernate just like him.
Damn it. Groundhogs had all the luck.
Chapter Two
“You need to be in LA by Wednesday,” Nick said as he skimmed the attachment he’d just opened in his email. “I’ll have Jade make all the appropriate reservations and arrange for a car to pick you up at LAX.” There was no response. Nick stared at his cell phone, which he’d placed on the desk next to his laptop. “Trey?”
“I’m here.” Trey Gentry’s reply was followed by a distinctly feminine giggle. As usual, his number one client wasn’t alone. “Can I bring a friend?”
Nick fought the urge to pick up his phone and hurl it at the wall that—back in the day—had been plastered with posters of his idol, Michael Jordan. “This is a huge endorsement deal, Trey. My suggestion is to leave your playmate at home.”
“How’d you know she’s a playmate?” Trey asked, then chuckled slyly. “You must have seen the November issue.”
“I’m sure Miss November will be waiting breathlessly for your return.” Nick sighed and rubbed his temples. Dealing with the San Francisco Blaze’s star pitcher was becoming more difficult by the week. “You need to be focused for this shoot. This isn’t some rinky-dink auto dealership, this is a major player in athletic wear and shoes. You can’t afford to be distracted.”
“Oh, all right,” Trey grumbled. “I’ll go alone.”
“Thank you,” Nick said wearily. “Jade will be in touch with you to firm up the logistics.”
“I can’t wait to talk to her.”
Nick let the sarcastic comment go and quickly ended the call. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with Trey and Jade’s personality conflict right now.
Rising from the chair, Nick grabbed his phone, left the bedroom he’d grown up in and trudged downstairs to the kitchen. The house was quiet; his parents had gone out to dinner with another couple. They’d been surprised, but thrilled, to see him when he’d showed up this morning, and had offered to cancel their plans. But he assured them his visit was a long one and there would be plenty of time to spend together.
After fishing a couple of chocolate chip cookies from the cookie jar, he moved to the living room, flopped down on the couch and reached for the TV remote. For a while he channel surfed, but even with about a million cable channels he couldn’t find a damn thing he wanted to watch. Finally, he settled on ESPN, ate his cookies and found his thoughts drifting to Carrie.
Ever since he’d run into her this morning he couldn’t get her off his mind. How had he not seen how hot she was in high school? Stupid question, idiot. Because of Alicia Walsh. The perfect blonde cheerleader he’d had a crush on since eighth grade. His entire focus had been on a girl so unattainable she might as well have been on the moon. How many other cute girls had he dismissed as he had Carrie? Shit. He didn’t even want to think about it. Maybe if he’d pulled his head out of his ass back then he would have had a shot at having a girlfriend.
He’d made up for lost time after high school, though. At college, far away from Grass Valley, he’d forgotten Alicia and somehow managed to overcome his shyness. There had been plenty of girls who’d wanted to date him and he’d played the field, enjoying every minute of it. He’d lived in San Francisco for eight years now and although he’d dated a number of beautiful women, he still hadn’t found the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. But today, someone from his past had sparked his interest—something that hadn’t happened in quite a while. Reaching for his phone, Nick scrolled through his contact list and did what he’d wanted to do all day. He called Carrie Jones.
* * *
“Dress or pants?” Carrie asked as soon as Gillian answered the phone.
“What?”
Carrie stood in front of her closet surveying her options. “I’m going on a date tonight and I’m not sure if I should wear a dress or pants.”
“It’s kind of cold for a dress...” Gillian started, then went silent for several seconds. “Hey, wait just a minute. Did you say you have a date?”
“Don’t sound so shocked.”
“I thought you swore off men.”
“That was temporary. I was upset after Pete broke up with me on Valentine’s Day.” Carrie pulled her favorite sweater dress from the closet and gave it a once-over. It would be warm, but was it date-worthy? “And that was months ago. I’m over it.”
“Who’s the guy?”
“A friend from
high school. He’s back in town for the holidays and we ran into each other yesterday. He called me last night and we made dinner plans for this evening.”
“That was fast. Is he hot?”
Carrie felt a flutter low in her belly and nodded. “Very.”
“Nice. But more importantly, does he have a job?”
Carrie hung the dress back in the closet and pulled out another one. A black sleeveless sheath dress. Her first thought...no, it was too freaking cold to go sleeveless. But on second thought, she’d be wearing a coat and the restaurant would be warm—it was a possibility.
“He’s a sports agent. There was an article about him in the Union last year.”
“Shut the front door,” Gillian exclaimed. “You’re going out with the most elusive bachelor in San Francisco?”
Carrie frowned. “Elusive? What do you mean by that?”
“It means that after that stud-muffin Trey Gentry, Nick Johnson is the most sought-after man in the city. Many a woman has tried to get him to put a ring on it, but none have been successful.”
“And you know that, how?” Carrie asked with amusement. “Grass Valley isn’t exactly in close proximity to San Francisco.”
“I have contacts,” Gillian said and then fessed up. “My sister lives in San Francisco. She knows all the gossip.”
“Well, Beyoncé, I’m not trying to get Nick to put a ring on it.” She smiled as Gillian let out an amused snort. “We’re just two old friends having dinner to catch up on each other’s lives.”
“Really?” Gillian’s tone was dubious.
“Yes. Really.”
“Then why are you so worried about what you’re going to wear?” Gillian asked sweetly.
“I’m hanging up on you,” Carrie threatened with a smile.
“Wait...I didn’t tell you what to wear yet. Go with whatever makes you comfortable. You’ll be more relaxed during dinner.”
“That’s great advice. I’ve got a darling pair of fleece sweatpants and a matching hoodie that just screams date night,” she said as she returned the dress to the closet.
Gillian chuckled. “Funny. You know what I meant.”
Carrie grinned as she moved to her dresser and pulled open the top drawer. “Yes, and I appreciate your help.”
“Whatever you wear, you’ll knock him dead. Have fun, and I expect details tomorrow.”
Two hours later, Carrie slipped a couple of chain pendants around her neck and surveyed her appearance in the mirror. She’d decided against a dress and instead went with her favorite dressy jeans and a silky emerald-green camisole. She’d added a fitted black blazer and high-heel boots for a more polished look. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and after she found just the right pair of earrings she’d be ready to go, with time to spare.
Nick was due to arrive at seven and, surprisingly, she wasn’t all that nervous. After all, she’d known Nick since they were in grade school, and although he’d never been into her in a romantic way, they’d never had a problem talking to each other. Years ago, her “study buddy” status had broken her heart, but now she looked back on those days with fondness. Nick didn’t know it, but he’d distracted her from her chaotic home life. Daydreaming about him night and day made it easier to tune out her parents and their never-ending drama.
A few minutes after seven, Carrie opened the door to Nick’s knock and her breath caught in her throat as her gaze roamed over the perfect symmetry of his face. It really was criminal for a man to be so gorgeous. Back in high school, there’d only been a hint of the handsomeness he now possessed. Not many girls had seen it, but she had and had mooned over him for two years until he’d left for college. Good thing he wasn’t back in town permanently or she’d be tempted to go all moon-eyed over him again. And that would be pathetic considering she was thirty-two, not eighteen.
“You look nice.” Nick smiled, revealing even white teeth. Those braces had done their job.
“Thank you.” She opened the door wider. “Come on in. I just need to get my coat and purse and I’m ready to go.”
“I like your place,” Nick commented as he closed the door and checked out her living room, which she’d lovingly decorated with vintage furniture she’d found while antiquing. He was wearing the same leather jacket from yesterday, but he’d replaced the faded jeans with ones with a darker wash. His jacket was unbuttoned to reveal a burgundy knit sweater he’d layered over a blue button-down shirt. “No Christmas tree?” His perplexed gaze met hers.
“No.” As she moved to the coat closet, she caught a whiff of his cologne, a clean spicy scent that smelled so sexy she had an honest-to-God urge to bury her face into his neck and just...inhale.
“Oh, you’re one of those people who wait until the week before Christmas to get their tree.”
“I’m not getting one.” She pulled on her coat, slid her hands under her hair to free it from the collar then looked up to find him staring at her with undisguised astonishment.
“Why?”
“It’s just me. I don’t really need one.”
“Just you?” Nick looked surprised. “Where are your parents?”
“My father died several years ago and my mother moved to Florida not too long afterward.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your father.”
“Thank you,” she said, reading the sympathy in his eyes. It was the appropriate response to his condolences and one she’d uttered many times to well-meaning people just like Nick. People who didn’t have a clue of what went on behind closed doors. Although Nick may have heard a few of her parents’ arguments when they were studying all those years ago, there was no way he could know how dysfunctional her family really was. And she didn’t want him to know. Her father was dead and her mother had moved two thousand miles away. It didn’t matter anymore. She pasted a smile on and pulled her gloves out of the pockets of her coat. “Where are we going for dinner?”
“I made reservations at the Owl.”
“Great choice.” Carrie moved to the table by the couch, picked up her purse and tamped down the bitter memory of her parents. She wouldn’t let them taint what she hoped would be a fun evening.
* * *
The Owl Grill and Saloon had a long and colorful history. The establishment had been patronized by the miners who’d come to California during the Gold Rush and now catered to locals and visitors who wanted to step back in time and enjoy a meal in a classic “Gold Country” setting.
Nick had selected it for two reasons. One, because according to his parents, the food was still excellent, and two, because it was located in Grass Valley’s historic downtown. During the holidays, downtown Grass Valley celebrated its immigrant roots with a Cornish Christmas. The buildings were festooned with lights and decorations, and on Friday nights, from Thanksgiving until Christmas, the streets were blocked off so that residents and visitors alike could enjoy the festive holiday activities.
In a quiet corner of the restaurant, Carrie sat across from him, completely unaware of the appreciative glances from the men at the table next to them. Unlike a few of the women he’d dated in San Francisco, Carrie’s beauty seemed natural, almost effortless.
“So fill me in.” He leaned back in his chair and got comfortable. “What have you been doing since high school?”
“I’ll give you the abridged version.” Carrie’s lips curved in a winsome smile. “Not long after I graduated from Chico, I got a job as a legal secretary for a small law firm here in town. After a few years I decided I wanted to get more involved in the law so I entered a paralegal program for people who already had a bachelor’s degree. I moved to larger firm in Auburn last January.”
Nick had dealt with many attorneys over the years, but he wasn’t exactly sure what it was that paralegals did. “Do you try cases?”
“No. I do a lot of research, draft legal documentation and basically support the lawyers.”
“In other words, you do the grunt work.” Nick grinned and thought of Jade, his trusted a
ssistant. She did grunt work too. And did it well.
Carrie chuckled. “In a nutshell, yes.”
“Do you like it?”
Her luminous smile revealed a perfect dimple on her left cheek. “I love it.”
“Any desire to get a law degree?” Nick asked, wondering why he’d never noticed that dimple before. He must have been blind in high school. Without the knit cap she wore yesterday, layers of her fine reddish-blond hair framed the creamy complexion of her face, and in the dim light of the Owl, her green eyes sparkled like jewels. She was absolutely breathtaking.
“No. I’m happy doing what I’m doing.”
“It does help to love your job,” he said, and as Carrie picked up her wineglass, Nick’s gaze was drawn to her mouth. His groin tightened as she sipped the merlot recommended by their waiter. It wasn’t a stretch for him to imagine something else she could be doing with those lips. “Why did your mother move to Florida? Do you have family there?” he asked, managing to rein in his erotic thoughts.
“No.” Carrie set her glass on the table, then fingered one of the long silver chains she wore around her neck. “My mother bought a computer after my father died and hooked up with some guy she met in a chat room. About four months later she flew to Florida to meet him and never came back.”
“Never came back?”
“Nope.” The lack of emotion in Carrie’s eyes puzzled him. It was as if she was discussing a stranger instead of her own mother. “She had me pack up her clothes and send them to her. Then she hired a Realtor who sold the house and after it sold, she donated the furniture and all of my father’s stuff to Goodwill.”
“Is she still with him? The guy in Florida?”
“Yes. They live together in a condo in Boca Raton. According to my mother, they’re deliriously happy.” She paused. “So tell me about life in San Francisco. Do you like it there?”
For My Own: A Contemporary Christmas Anthology Page 2