“When my father had a heart attack and passed away, I’d just turned eighteen. I inherited the apartment. My stepmother was furious and took me to court, but it was ruled that the apartment and the rent control lease were rightfully and legally mine. I was hoping it would be the last I saw of that woman and her daughters, but she used the life insurance money to move into a larger apartment in the building.”
Graham reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry you went through all of that. I’m sure you were a great kid.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“Because I see how you are with people you care about. You go out of your way for them, from baking cookies to fighting on their behalf to save their homes. It takes a very special person to do those things. Not to mention sharing your Christmas traditions with someone you consider the enemy.”
Heat rose in her cheeks. “I never said you were the enemy.”
“But you thought it. And I understand because if I was in your place, I’d feel the same way. But with all you’ve been through, did you ever consider moving?”
“I can’t afford an apartment in the city without the rent control and I like my neighbors. They’re like family. Considering I have none of my own, I need them. And I know they need me, too—especially some of the older residents who don’t have family or their families have busy schedules and don’t visit very often.”
“You try to fill in the gaps. And that’s why you don’t complain when their faucets leak more than is normal.”
“Something like that.”
She never talked about this stuff with anyone. It was too personal, too painful. But she knew for Graham to understand the significance of the Stirling, she would have to bare her soul, no matter how much it hurt to pull back the scabs on her past.
* * *
They’d trimmed the tree.
And by the time they’d finished, it felt as though a bond had grown between them. They were no longer strangers. They were friends.
Graham found comfort in the thought of Alina being his friend. But in the next breath, he had to wonder if friendship was the right terminology. Because he’d never longed to kiss any of his friends.
There was something about being close to Alina. They didn’t even have to be touching for him to feel her draw. It was like she was the sun and he’d been pulled into her orbit, soaking up the rays of her smile.
But he knew that none of this was going to last. It was all an illusion created by their temporary closeness and the magic of the holidays. Once Christmas passed, he’d be back in his sterile and cold apartment. And Alina would never want to see him after he tore down the Stirling. So it was best not to let himself get drawn in.
Graham paused to look up at the tree. In his hand he held a white, glittery glass ornament. And for the life of him, he couldn’t find a spot to hang it. The tree was covered with lights, ribbon and ornaments.
He wanted to say it was overdone, maybe even gaudy, but he couldn’t say any of those things. There was a method to Alina’s madness and, in the end, the tree looked amazing. It sparkled and shined like fine jewelry.
And at the same time, it was filled with memories. Graham knew this because Alina had told him the history of each of the unique ornaments as she hung them on the tree. In the end, the tree was like the story of her life. No wonder she liked it so much.
He didn’t have anything like that, but in the next breath, he realized that wasn’t true. He had the company his father had left to him. It was filled with memories, from the first time he could remember sitting in the CEO’s chair when he wasn’t even big enough for his feet to touch the ground to interning when he’d been in college.
And then there was the time he’d gotten to shadow his father throughout the day. It had been bring-your-child-to-work day and he’d badgered his father until he’d agreed to take him to the office. It was that day Graham had sworn to himself that one day he would run the company just like his father had done. He just never thought that day would arrive so soon.
He also remembered his mother’s reaction to the reading of the will—the part that gave Graham controlling interest in the company. His mother had begged him to sell it. He’d refused.
She’d told him that in order to successfully run the company he would have to make sacrifices. Back then he’d thought he’d had all of the answers. He told her he was man enough to make all of the sacrifices necessary. He hadn’t wanted to hear a word his mother said if it was contrary to him living up to his duty as the Toliver heir.
“What do you think?” Alina’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
He blinked and turned to her. “What?”
“The tree. Do you like it?”
He paused to take in the tree once more. “I think it’s amazing. It’s you.”
“It’s me?” Her fine brows scrunched together. “You think I look like a tree? A skinny top and a fat bottom—”
“No! I don’t mean you as in you literally, but it’s made up of little pieces from your life.”
Her brows smoothed and then a smile lifted her pouty lips. “Yes, it is. I never thought of it that way. Is that the way your little Christmas tree was?”
He shook his head. “We always had the same designer ornaments that came as a set.”
“What was Christmas morning like? Or were you so rich growing up that you didn’t care about Santa bringing you presents?”
“I wasn’t as spoiled as you might imagine. My father believed I needed to earn what I got. I don’t even remember how young I was when he started saying that. For all I know, he could have said it as soon as I was out of diapers because I can’t remember anything else.”
“Your father sounds like a tough man.”
Graham shrugged. “He had his moments of softness, like when I had pneumonia. I never saw him so worried. But once I was better, things went back to normal.”
“Well, Christmas at the Stirling is all about family.”
“But you’re not related to these people.”
“Not biologically, but they’re my family by choice. So we celebrate the holiday by having a potluck dinner and doing a Secret Santa exchange.”
“That sounds nice.”
“It is. It’s not about the extravagance of the presents. It’s about the company. And you’re welcome to join us this year. That is, unless you’re spending the holiday with your mother?”
“Uh, no.” He shook his head. “My mother and I haven’t spent the holidays together since before my father died. We…we had words.” He picked up a small silver ball ornament and rolled it around in his hand. “She accused me of turning into my father.”
“I take it that’s not a good thing.”
“Not the way she meant it. She said I was going to let the business take over my life. I told her I could balance things, but she didn’t believe me.”
“Is she right? Or do you have more dates than you can count?”
He arched a brow. “Why? Are you planning to ask me out?”
* * *
Her asking him out?
The idea didn’t sound as preposterous as it should.
Immediately heat flamed in Alina’s cheeks. “Of course not. I just wondered if your mother was right. Do you have a life outside the office?”
Graham placed the ornament back in the box. “I don’t have time.” He got to his feet. “Why can’t anyone understand that it takes a lot of time to run a company the size of Toliver? Once I get a firm hand on everything, things will change. I’ll have more time.”
She knew he wanted to believe that, but she had her doubts. “My father used to say you had to pick what was important in life and then make a concerted effort to make time for what makes you happy.”
He frowned at her. “So you’re siding with my mother.”
“I’m not. I’m just tryin
g to understand.”
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Once this agreement is over, you’ll never have to see me again.” And with that he started to walk away.
“Graham, wait. That isn’t what I meant.”
With his back to her, he waved her off and kept walking right out the front door.
Ugh! That had gone totally wrong. She hadn’t meant to upset him. She shouldn’t have said anything, but she thought they’d reached a point where they could talk to each other openly, like friends. As his friend, she worried that his mother might be right.
Not that she wanted him to date her or anything. Far from it. They were too different from each other. She loved Christmas. He couldn’t care less about it. He loved working at all hours. She only worked the long hours out of necessity. She craved a big, loving family. He seemed happier being alone. They definitely didn’t belong together.
But that didn’t mean she didn’t feel bad about the way the conversation went. It was getting late, maybe they were both tired. She’d apologize to him in the morning.
Oh, who was she kidding? There was no way she’d be able to sleep with things left like this. And so she stood and headed for the door.
She pulled open the door to find Graham standing there. His head hung low as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“I’m sorry,” they both said in unison. And then they both smiled.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” she said. “I know you’re doing your best.”
“And I shouldn’t have let it bother me. It’s true. I work a lot. But it won’t be forever.”
She wanted to ask if that meant he was planning to marry and settle down with a family of his own. Suddenly the image of his arm around a tall, slender woman with perfect hair filled Alina’s imagination. The thought stirred unease in the pit of her stomach. Refusing to acknowledge what it might mean, she shoved aside the thought.
“Well,” she said, “I’ll just go clean up and call it a night.”
“I’ll help you.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” His tone was firm.
“Thanks. That would be great.”
She breathed easier as together they walked back to the living room. She was starting to see that this challenge of getting him to see the apartment building as something more than an obstacle to his goals was going to be more difficult than she’d originally envisioned.
How did she draw him into the charm of the building without making things personal? Because they needed to keep their distance. No matter how handsome or thoughtful she found him, they came from different worlds.
Even with that warning in mind when she glanced over at him, she felt a flutter in her chest. This was going to be so much harder than she’d ever imagined.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HE’D NEVER BEEN so busy.
And yet Graham found himself happier than he’d ever been.
Monday morning he’d slipped away from the Stirling for a very important meeting. He was hoping to persuade a couple that owned a sizable company to go in on a project with his company, considerably lowering Toliver’s financial obligation. However, when the topic of the holidays came up, he soon learned they loved Christmas celebrations.
And when they’d mentioned spending Christmas in New York, there had been a miscommunication. They thought he was inviting them to a party. What was he supposed to say to that?
He’d known that this was his chance to solidify their relationship so of course he had to invite them to his big Christmas gala. The only problem was he didn’t have one planned. His company never held or sponsored holiday events. And now Graham had exactly eighteen days to plan a huge Christmas party.
He thought of handing it off to his assistant, Mary, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do that to her—even though he knew she wouldn’t have complained. She was a newlywed and she already had her hands full picking up some of his work while he was working from home.
He would deal with the party himself—something he’d never done in his life. He figured he’d start with the location but that was proving impossible. Venues large enough to hold such an event had been reserved a year or two in advance.
It was late in the afternoon when Alina stopped by his place. “The restaurant was busy all day and I had not one but two Christmas parties. I just came home to change my clothes before heading back.” She gestured to a large red stain on her white blouse. “It was a rough day.”
He stared up from where he was sitting on the floor leaning back against the wall with papers scattered around him. “You’re going back so soon?”
She shrugged off her coat, then draped it over her arm. “It’s fine. It’ll slow down after the holidays. How was your day?”
He closed his laptop, giving her his full attention. “I’d rather hear about your day.”
She studied him for a moment. “What’s the matter?”
“Why would you think something’s wrong?”
“Because you get those little lines between your brows when you’re worried about something.”
“Wait. Are you saying we’ve spent that much time together that you can read me?”
“Yes. Now, tell me what’s wrong. Is it Merryweather? Is he giving you a hard time?”
“No. I picked him up some cookies on the way home from the office and he loved them. It has nothing to do with the building.”
“That’s a relief.” She resisted the urge to point out the fact that he’d referred to the Stirling as his home.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I have a problem at the office.”
“Anything you want to discuss?” She sat across from him on one of his new chairs. It would be nice to focus on someone else’s problems for a change.
Graham hesitated. “I have potential clients coming into the office the week of Christmas and I really need to impress them.”
“You’re the best at what you do and your offices are beautiful, so I’m not seeing the problem.”
“It’s not enough. I know a couple of other companies are courting them. So I need this visit to stand out in their mind.”
“I take it we’re not discussing your business presentation.”
He shook his head. “That’s already under control. But I sort of invited them to a Christmas party that doesn’t exist.”
Her mouth gaped. “How in the world did you do that?”
“I’m not exactly sure but now they’re making plans to return for this impressive Christmas gala.”
“Graham, do you know how close it is to Christmas? People make these plans months or a year in advance.”
His frown deepened. “Now what am I supposed to do?”
“You have a nice apartment. You could throw an informal party there.”
He shook his head. “They’re flying in from Phoenix. They’re expecting something spectacular. Not a little dinner party.”
“Hmm… I see.” She racked her brain for an easy solution. “I can’t even offer the Christmas Café. It’s booked solid.”
Graham lifted both arms and raked his fingers through his hair. “What am I going to do? This account is very important.”
“One of the things I ask clients before planning a party is about their likes and dislikes. Have you researched these people to find out their interests?”
He nodded. “I didn’t learn much.”
“There was nothing about what organizations they support?”
“Well, I did find this.” He opened his laptop and started typing. It took him a moment. “Here it is.”
She accepted the laptop from him and started to read. A few minutes later, she said, “This is great.”
“How do you get that?”
“It says that Mrs. Cortinas is a proud sponsor of the arts.”
; “And…” His dark brows knitted together in confusion. “You want me to make a donation to one of her causes?”
Alina shook her head. “Let me think on it and I’ll get back to you.”
“On what? The party? But you said it was too late.”
“I didn’t say it was too late. I said most places will already be reserved. So we’ll have to think of someplace less traditional. And it’ll have to accommodate artwork because if the wife is impressed, she’ll make sure the husband gives your presentation more attention.”
“I hear you,” he said. “But it’s not going to work.”
“But why? Are you afraid they’ll learn you’re a grinch?”
“I am not.”
She crossed her arms and arched a brow. “Remember, I’ve been to your office. I know it’s devoid of decorations.”
“My father didn’t believe in wasting the time and money on decorations when everyone was supposed to be there to work, not to have a party.”
“I hope you don’t mind me saying that your father was way too serious.”
“How could I mind when I agree with you?”
“You do?” When he sent her a crooked smile and nodded, her heart fluttered. Refusing to let him see how he affected her, she turned her attention back to the laptop.
“I found another article that says the Cortinas decorate their home for the holidays.” She followed the link he gave her. “Here. See.”
He leaned over to look at the monitor. In the process, he grabbed the other chair and pulled it up next to hers. She pretended like his closeness didn’t bother her as she clicked through the online photos. But her heart was pitter-pattering as her pulse raced. She had to think about something other than the way his shoulder was brushing against hers.
“Do you see all of the artwork on the walls?”
“I do. But how does knowing she likes artwork help us?”
“Those pieces aren’t classic pieces of art. I’m not an expert, but I’m thinking those were all created by up-and-coming artists.”
“And that helps us how?”
“I don’t know yet. Let me think about it.”
Harlequin Romance December 2020 Box Set Page 55