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Holiday Treasure (Billionaire Bachelors - Book 10)

Page 3

by Melody Anne


  Chapter Five

  Special delivery.”

  Tanner stood at his door with his jaw locked and fire burning in his eyes. This was so not happening to him.

  “What in the hell are you doing here?” he snapped.

  “Is that any way to treat your relatives?”

  His brother Ashton and a newfound cousin, Max Anderson, were standing at his door with big grins on their faces.

  “I didn’t tell anyone I was going to be here, so I don’t know how in the hell you managed to track me down,” he said, opening the door and letting them inside, though he wanted to slam it in their faces instead. There was no use in trying to keep them out now that they knew where he was stuck for the next few weeks.

  “Wow! This place must really suck for you, big shot,” Ashton said with a laugh.

  “Damn! I’ve seen cardboard boxes that have more class,” Max added.

  “Okay, are you going to crack jokes the entire visit?” Tanner asked. “Or are you going to tell me how you found me here and what you want?” He was pacing the room, really irritated that he had nowhere to sit and no alcohol to drink.

  “I talked to Dad and he told me about your current situation. You know I had to check it out for myself. Max happened to stop by as I was getting ready to leave, and he didn’t want to miss out on all the fun either.”

  “I’m so glad you care so much, little brother,” Tanner snarled.

  “I’d say you got one of the crappier properties. Don’t forget that you did choose it.”

  “I chose it because I was planning on ripping this wretched place down and then building something that would actually add value to this benighted neighborhood. But with Dad’s clauses, I can’t force the tenants out. I’ve upped their move-out bonuses by triple and they’re still being stubborn fools. Then some cracked judge made me stay here to show me what it’s like for people who have less than I have. He’s the one who will be shown, because I don’t cave under pressure.”

  “I don’t know, Tanner. I think one night here would be hell, let alone three or four weeks. Plus, I can’t wait to see you in a nice fat Santa suit.” Ashton wasn’t even trying to hide his mirth — his brother’s predicament was a doozy!

  “I’m going to kill him. Dad must have gloated about all this. Fess up — he told you both, didn’t he?”

  “Nope. I learned it from the media,” Max said. “Your horrified expression said it all.” Max moved to one of the windows and looked out.

  “Great. The entire city knows.”

  “I don’t think the entire population cares,” Ashton pointed out before breaking out into another grin. “Just the reporters and those who would love to hang you by your toes and let rats nibble on your hair.”

  “It’s always such a pleasure to talk to you, Ashton. Why I don’t invite you over more often, I’ll never know.”

  “You didn’t invite me this time, but I came anyway.”

  Ashton had always had a good sense of humor, but he tended to be more thoughtless and self-absorbed than any of his siblings. He had no problem taking delight in Tanner’s suffering, because he’d never truly experienced any of his own.

  Until now. That was all changing with the little game their father was playing.

  “How is your own project going?” Tanner asked as he went to the kitchen counter and pulled himself up. He needed to get off his feet.

  Ashton lost the grin on his face. “I’m in too good a mood to even talk about that.”

  “Oh, I see. You can mock me all you want, but when it comes to you, the subject is closed.”

  “You may think you got the raw end of the deal, but I’m not so sure about that. I don’t know what Dad was thinking when he picked up all these businesses, but I don’t see how in the hell I’m supposed to do anything with mine,” Ashton huffed.

  “Damn, I wish I’d known you guys so much sooner. You both sound like little kids throwing a tantrum right now.”

  Tanner turned toward Max. He’d been so focused on his brother that he’d forgotten his cousin was even there with them.

  “You lucked out, Max. You got a great father. Ours is a pain in the ass.”

  “I happen to like Richard,” Max said.

  “That’s because you’ve only known him a year.”

  “Well, I look forward to many more,” Max replied. “Since you have no furniture and no beer, I think it’s time we head out.”

  “Yeah. That’s a great idea,” Tanner told him, but he was surprised by the way his stomach dipped. He might be acting as if he didn’t want them there, but once they left, he knew he’d be stuck in this hellhole with nothing to do and no one to talk to.

  Fighting with his family members seemed much more appealing than being utterly alone. He would rather swallow razor blades than admit that out loud, though.

  “Get out of here. I obviously have things to take care of.”

  His brother and cousin took off, and Tanner slumped down on the counter. It was time to make some phone calls, time to decide who he was going to fire.

  Chapter Six

  Tanner stretched luxuriously before climbing from the surprisingly comfortable bed. When he’d called about the furniture, furious that his assistant hadn’t thought about it, Randy had said that it was already arranged, and that everything should be there within the hour. Tanner felt more than a bit bad right now. Why had he yelled at the poor guy? Maybe it was time to give him a raise.

  Damn. This wasn’t like him at all. He’d gone from wanting to fire an employee to considering increasing the fellow’s pay. That turnaround was surprising, to say the least. but he had to blame his rash decision-making on the ridiculous mess of a situation he was in. In short, not his fault.

  After a quick shower, Tanner walked into his living room. His assistant had done well there, too, with comfortable pieces that didn’t appear too out of place in this dump. Yes, the man was good, he had to admit. And when he opened his front door, he was happy to find the newspaper waiting for him, another point in his assistant’s favor. He grabbed it and went to sit down.

  While he read his paper and drank a cup of coffee, Tanner leaned back, thinking this wasn’t going to be so bad. Yes, the apartment sucked, but he could get through his sentence.

  It was under a month, after all.

  Just as he stood up to grab his wallet and coat and head over to the mall, a mouse ran across the floor, less than a foot from where he was standing. Normally not a man who scared easily, Tanner found himself jumping back and fighting the urge to shout. The creature squeezed behind his kitchen counters and disappeared.

  Snatching up his phone, he punched the buttons and pulled up his assistant’s contact information. “Get the damn rodent company out here today, Randy; hell, get every pest-control company in the city out here. I want this building purged of all rodents, insects, and any other of vile things that infest places like this. If I see a single one when I get home tonight, find another job!”

  He hung up before the guy could say anything. Tanner didn’t care if it took every exterminator in the forty-eight contiguous states — he wasn’t going another night sharing sleeping quarters with those disgusting creatures.

  The thought made him think of his unusual neighbor. How in the world could she possibly name the damn things? What was wrong with her?

  After throwing a leery glance at his now fully stocked cupboards, he walked out of the apartment. If he was late to his Santa gig, he had a feeling the cops would be showing up with guns drawn.

  He could almost forget about the leash on his ankle. Almost, but not quite.

  Not paying attention to where he was walking, Tanner pushed through the front doors of the apartment complex and tripped. He tried to catch himself before hitting the cold, hard cement, but it was too late. With a raging fury, he found himself sprawled out on the ground, his new pair of jeans ripped at the knees.

  After shaking off the shock of falling, he picked himself back up and then turned toward t
he door and looked at the entrance. The cement steps were cracked and uneven, an obvious hazard.

  Wrath pouring through him, he lifted his phone again and barely managed to keep from yelling as he told his assistant to have a construction foreman meet him at the mall during his lunch break.

  Yes, it would be humiliating having to meet with the contractor at a mall, but he wasn’t going to have someone trip coming in or out of the building and then get sue-happy. If he’d fallen, he was sure others would follow. And it was all on his ass now. Just great.

  It took him only a few minutes to reach the mall by taxi once he took care of business, and then Tanner found himself in a stuffy changing area with the ugly-as-sin Santa suit hanging before him. Eyeing it as if it were a snake about to strike — or maybe a rabid rat — he finally got up his courage and ran his fingers gingerly down the red fabric, then watched the white faux fur instantly pouf back out. He squeezed it now — take that! — and it still bounced back.

  At least the suit didn’t appear to be as scratchy as his jailhouse clothes. That was some consolation. Sure it was. After getting into the damnable thing, Tanner turned toward the mirror and looked at himself with a disgusted snort.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” he gasped in abject horror. But at least no one would recognize him. The freaking thing even came with bushy glue-on eyebrows.

  The added padding around his body made him feel like a stuffed animal, and he probably looked like one, too. He was surprised the mall didn’t insist that he wear blush for a hint of jolliness; he certainly didn’t have any otherwise. He had one reason to be thankful; with the fluffy mustache and beard, he didn’t have to worry about pretending to smile at his young tormentors.

  He had nothing to smile about.

  Lifting the phone to his ear, he waited impatiently for his lawyer to pick up. “Keep trying to get me out of this,” Tanner snapped.

  “We’re working on it, sir,” the man replied.

  Tanner hung up and made his way grudgingly into the main part of the mall Just out the door, he found himself confronted by kids who were there shopping with their parents.

  “Santa!” a horde of them cried; they tugged free of their parents’ hands and rushed forward. Hell, he hadn’t even made it to his “throne” yet, and he was already suffering an onslaught of grubby fingers.

  “Ho, ho, ho,” he bellowed a bit menacingly, and he kept on moving forward. This was community service and he would do his job — but nothing said he had to like it.

  Tanner turned the corner and beheld his new prison, which was decked out with so many sparkling decorations, he knew he’d end up with a headache from the glare before the day was out.

  His elves began lining the children up as he took his seat and tried to prepare himself for the next eight hours. This was going to be an excruciatingly long day.

  “Hello, Santa. Are you ready for your first visitor?”

  Tanner’s head whipped around as he recognized that voice.

  Once again, he found himself caught in the bold blue gaze of his neighbor in the slums. What was her name? Kyla! Wow, he was stunned that he remembered. She’d been wearing a baggy sweatshirt the night before; she now had on a little elf costume that did her body far more justice.

  Taking his own sweet time, he looked at her from head to toe, appreciating all the nice curves the costume did nothing to hide with its short skirt and fitted elf top. Her chest was a bit smaller than he normally liked, but on her frame, those puppies worked perfectly, and the nice curve of her delicious behind had him practically drooling in his Santa beard. His idle thought of spending a few weeks with his neighbor warming his bed had just become a serious plan.

  “Bring the children up,” he said, his voice deep with instant lust. She paused and he knew she had no clue that he was the neighbor she had met the afternoon before. Why not have a bit of fun with her then and lighten up his day? “Do you want to sit on Santa’s lap?” he asked, grinning widely enough that she could see his teeth through all the fake hair.

  He expected some sarcastic reply, something to show she was irritated with the dirty old man hitting on her. What he got instead took his breath away.

  She leaned in close so none of the children could hear. “I’ve always had a Santa fantasy,” she practically purred, making his heart rate soar before she doused him in cold water. “Too bad you won’t get to hear what it is.” With that she smiled and walked away.

  Mmm, the things he would do with his neighbor. His attitude improved tenfold. When the first kid landed a bit too hard on his lap, he didn’t even growl.

  “I want a Barbie doll, and her Dream House, and an iPod, and…” The kid went on and on until she ran out of breath.

  Tanner looked toward the camera as the bulb flashed and he wondered if he would be blind by the end of the day. After giving the girl a pat on her head, Tanner handed her a coloring book and then took the next kid, and the next, and the next.

  By hour six, Tanner wasn’t feeling nearly as happy as when he’d first discovered his hot Santa’s helper. By closing, he was downright pissy.

  This was going to be a hellacious few weeks. Even though he got to enjoy the view of his enticing neighbor’s backside, it didn’t quite make up for ordeals like these.

  Chapter Seven

  Kyla fumbled in her purse for her apartment key as she moved down the sidewalk toward the apartment building. Before she could look up, her legs tangled, and she felt herself falling forward as she heard someone let out an oof.

  To her horror, Kyla found herself on the cold cement, on top of a small boy. Rolling quickly off him, she sat up and immediately reached out.

  “Are you okay? I am so sorry,” she gasped as her hands ran over his arms and legs.

  “I’m fine,” he said, though his wheezing told her that he’d had the breath knocked out of him. “My grandma needs help, though,” he said, almost pleading, his eyes desperate.

  “Where is she? What’s the matter?” Kyla was instantly panicked. She didn’t handle emergencies very well.

  “This way.” The boy grabbed her hand and began to pull her down the sidewalk. Kyla held his little hand and had to rush to keep pace with him as he moved. When they reached the bus stop halfway down the block, she found a woman sitting on the bench with a couple of plastic grocery sacks beside her and her shoulders hunched down low.

  Kyla bent down to the woman, worried about what she would find. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

  The woman looked up, her brow wrinkled, her gray eyes tired, and her hands showing clear signs of rheumatoid arthritis. “Oh, sweetie, I’m just fine. I did some shopping and I’m trying to get up the energy to carry the bags inside. Billy here was obviously alarmed — he’s such a good boy! — and he took off to find help before I could call him back. Thank you for bringing him to me. I worry when he wanders. He’s only five years old.”

  “Let me help you with the bags. Billy found me and said you needed assistance.”

  “Oh, that’s not your job, doll. I can do it. It just takes me a little bit longer these days.” The woman spoke with determination, though her voice sounded so exhausted.

  “I’d be hurt if you didn’t let me help,” Kyla told her, and she grabbed both bags with one hand, though they were definitely heavy. She then held out the other hand to help the woman up.

  “You’re too kind. I used to move around a lot easier, but old age, arthritis, and creaky bones are making it more difficult these days,” she said with a small laugh. “When they say seventy-five is the new fifty-five, they’re lying — at least when it comes to some of us.”

  “I have days like that myself,” Kyla replied as she stood next to the woman and they began a slow walk back to the apartment building.

  “I’m Vivian, by the way. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Kyla. I met your grandson right outside my apartment building. Do you and Billy live in the apartments on this street?”

  “Yes. I’ve been here f
or years, but my little boy just came to live with me not too long ago.”

  Kyla wanted to ask how the woman had ended up with her grandson, but she’d heard the pain in Vivian’s voice, and she could tell the story wouldn’t be a pleasant one. In any case, she didn’t want to be intrusive.

  “I’m surprised I haven’t run into you before now,” Kyla said as they made it to the building and she pushed open the slow-groaning doors.

  “I don’t get out as much as I used to. I have someone who shops for me once a week, but Billy needed a few things, and the shopper won’t come back for three more days, so we had no choice but to go to the store.”

  “Which apartment do you live in? Ground floor?” Kyla hoped so, since the elevators didn’t work and she couldn’t imagine that Vivian would able to climb the stairs without major effort.

  “Yes, thankfully. I’m in one-sixteen.”

  “We’re practically neighbors. I’m in one-twelve,” Kyla said.

  “I hope you’ll come in for a cup of tea so I can thank you properly for helping me,” Vivian said as she pulled out a key and inserted it in the lock of her door.

  “I would love to,” Kyla told her.

  They stepped inside, and Kyla was impressed with the woman’s small apartment. It was spotless, and pictures filled the walls and the end tables by the couch. Holding pride of place in the center of the living room wall was a large framed picture featuring a smiling Billy and what looked like his parents. She again wondered why he was living with his grandmother now, but she couldn’t bear to ask.

  “Oh, Billy, remember to pick up your toys, sweetie,” Vivian said as she nearly tripped over a bright little fire engine.

  Was tripping the name of the game in this place?

  “I’m sorry, Grandma,” Billy said, quickly grabbing the truck before he took it to what looked like his toy box.

  “It’s okay. I just don’t want to fall over,” Vivian told him before moving to the kitchen and filling her teakettle with water and setting it on the stove, then taking two cups down.

 

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