Sold!: A Holiday Romance

by J. L. Campbell

  by

  J.L. Campbell

  Copyright © 2016 by J.L. Campbell

  Cover art: J.L. Campbell

  Published by The Writers' Suite

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the publisher, except for brief quotations used in reviews or articles

  This is a work of fiction. References to events, characters, organizations and places are fictional and the product of the author's imagination. Any similarity to actual events and people living or dead is coincidental.

  License Notes: This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like the share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy. If you are reading this book and did not purchase same, or it was not purchased for your sole use, please consider buying your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the author's work

  Christmas looks dismal this year for Feechi Anoduro, until she meets Carsten Raimes at an auction. The wealthy businessman asks for her help with an event he's planning, but Feechi has reservations, because the last time a man asked for her help, she wound up disillusioned and pregnant. She has no time to waste on a man who's clearly out of her league, especially when she has immediate problems that need solving—a fifteen-year-old clunker that needs to go on a scrap heap and the dog her son has fallen in love with that they cannot afford to keep.

  Carsten enjoys a challenge any day of the week, and when he's introduced to Feechi, he sees a potential addition to his business team. But Feechi has other ideas and is hard to convince. Seducing her with a job offer doesn't work, so Carsten gets personal, but Feechi isn't sold on anything he has to give. As he alternates between work and play to get her attention, Carsten's attitude changes and suddenly he can't bear to be without this special woman, who makes him want things he never considered important before she came into his world.

  Chapter 1

  Feechi’s hand wavered as she took the platinum credit card from the man who’d been watching her all evening. If she weren’t sitting in an alcove inside The Venetian’s ballroom with other people close by, she’d have been more nervous.

  While she didn’t think the stranger would do her any harm, each time his intense stare settled on her, her nerves went into overdrive. She had the urge to check if she had lipstick on her teeth, if her hair was out of place, or whether her white blouse had food stains down the front.

  Earlier in the evening, she’d glanced at his auction card as he registered. His writing was bold and masculine, reflecting his character.

  She’d thought his name was as unique as the man himself—Carsten Raimes. Now, his scent drifted across the desk—subtle but undeniably potent—surrounding her in a delicious cloud. He smelled like soap, with floral and citrus notes, that made her want to breathe in deeply and let the aroma go to her brain. Instead, she sat up straighter and glanced at the figure on the pre-written invoice.

  Six hundred thousand, plus a twenty-five percent buyer’s fee. Jamaican dollars—which had less value when converted to U.S. dollars—but still a lot of money in her world. It took everything in her not to look up at him, or scowl for that matter.

  Her professionalism took over and she swiped the credit card, tore off the slip from the portable machine and waited while he signed his name.

  “Here’s your copy,” she said, handing it to him. She gestured toward one of the casual workers. “Carl will assist you with moving the carpets.”

  She handed Carl the yellow copy of the invoice before raising her head to address the man who still hadn’t moved.

  “Thank you very much.” His lips twitched and then settled into a mocking smile, as if he felt her disapproval but didn’t care. “You’re very efficient.”

  She let her face imitate a smile she didn't feel. “Thanks. I’m paid to be.”

  “It’s a little more than that, I think.” He glanced at the papers in his hand before holding the credit card slip square with the corner of the larger sheet in a silent request for her to staple both together.

  While she did that, her employer for the evening walked up to the table. Feechi assisted Marlon Banks whenever he had an auction, which was at least once per month. She’d had her fill of spoiled, rich people, but continued working with Marlon because he paid her well and the auctions never lasted more than four hours.

  Marlon and Carsten Raimes shook hands and moved a few feet away while she dealt with the next customer.

  It never ceased to disturb her mind that while she struggled to pay her bills, people spent oodles of money on scraps of material destined to be trampled on the floor. She knew a thing or two about the origin and value of the carpets, but still found it a ridiculous waste of money.

  While she waited for the older woman in front of her to sign the payment slip, Feechi's attention strayed to her right where the men stood talking.

  Carsten Raimes looked straight at her and then back at Marlon, who stood at the same height as he.

  She got the feeling he was talking about her and confirmed it when Marlon glanced at her and grinned.

  A curl of pleasure spread in her stomach, but she quickly killed the urge to smile. Whatever they were talking about was their business and if it concerned her, one of them would tell her.

  She took her copy of the credit card slip from the customer, thanked her and stapled it to the invoice. When the woman walked away, Feechi stifled a yawn, wondering how many other buyers were left to process. She’d run a fair number of credit cards but knew the entire lot of carpets hadn’t been sold. As usual, a couple of instances had cropped up where the buyers had told Marlon they’d bring certified checks to his office in the morning.

  It was half past eight and Jack would be ready for bed. She sent up a prayer of thanks for her sister, Dee, who had been watching Jack this evening.

  He could be a handful and things had been even more hectic in the two weeks since they’d had Max in residence. The Yorkshire Terrier and Shih Tzu mix had taken over their house and stamped its personality in all the wrong places—the beds, cupboards and sofas. And she hadn’t yet decided whether they were keeping him.

  Jack was sure they were, but Feechi hadn’t been able to let him down yet because he wasn't a demanding child and didn't ask for more than she could afford. With Christmas on the horizon, she had to decide quickly what she was going to do with the dog. If Max stayed much longer, Jack would expect him to stay and that hadn’t been the plan when she first took him home.

  The body blocking her view woke Feechi from her mental absorption. She tipped her head back and put on her business face when Marlon spoke, gesturing to Carsten Raimes, who stood behind him. “Feechi, Carsten would like you to help him with an auction next week.”

  Her eyebrows rose before she could stop them. “I’m not sure if I’m—”

  “Of course you can.”

  She wanted to glare at Marlon or slap him in his bald head, which was a pipe dream. He was generous and respect was due, but he could give her a chance to get a 'maybe' or a ‘no’ in edgewise.

  Marlon stepped aside and invited Carsten forward. “Carsten Raimes, meet Feechi Anoduro. Feechi, Carsten.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said, getting to her feet and putting her hand into his. His hand was large and warm, despite the air-conditioning.

  “Interesting name for someone with a Jamaican accent.”

  Rich and mellow, like warm honey. That's what his voice brought to mind.

  She smiled in acknowledgment of his comment. “My father’s responsible for that.”

  His eyes narrowed, but before he said another word, she spoke ke
eping her gaze away from Marlon. “I’m not sure I’ll be available to help you at such short notice.”

  “The auction is next Thursday in this hotel at 5:00 p.m.”

  “That may be sticky for me,” she said, glancing at Marlon and silently urging him to keep his mouth shut.

  Carsten released her hand, which she curled into a fist as she sat. She hadn’t realized he was still holding on to her.

  He slid one hand inside his jacket, and she watched him, hoping he wouldn’t ask for her help again. She needed the money, but wasn’t sure if she wanted to work for a man she didn’t know. Her attention shifted to Marlon, who clapped Carsten on the shoulder and backed away. “See if you can help him out, Feechi. Carsten’s the best in the business.”

  The man in question met her eyes and his lips twisted as if he could guess her thoughts.

  “You’re wondering how what he just said can be true if you’ve never heard of me before.”

  She nodded and took the card he held out to her. Cream, linen stock with his name in bold print, along with a telephone number. The card was enigmatic in its simplicity. Just like the man standing before her. Everything about him looked expensive, but was understated, as if he didn’t want to call attention to himself.

  That made him something of a puzzle. Men like him were all about themselves and usually everybody else had to know it too. He wasn’t handsome, but his deep-set eyes, golden-brown skin and well-defined lips made him distinctive.

  “I’ve lived in America for the last ten years and only recently came back home.”

  Another thing for her to puzzle over. He didn’t sound as if he’d lived anywhere but in Jamaica. She landed back in the present when his brow tipped in a questioning way.

  “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “Can you meet me here for drinks tomorrow evening and I'll tell you what I do and how I want you to help?”

  “I may not be available.”

  “Our discussion won’t take long.” His soothing baritone was persuasive and when he paired it with a disarming smile, she caught her breath and swallowed hard.

  “Like I said, I’m not sure I can come, but what time are we talking about?”

  “Half past five.”

  She nodded, but still didn’t commit.

  “D’you drive?”

  Her smile was brighter than she wanted it to be, but of course she couldn’t share what was so funny.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Well then, I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

  “But—”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow. You’re more than competent and I need another pair of hands. We can make it work.”

  His quiet insistence sucked her breath away. He hadn’t been rude, simply firm, but she wasn’t used to having decisions made for her.

  “Well see,” she said, just for the heck of it.

  His gaze met hers and after a moment she realized he’d seen through her ruse. She didn’t care though. She’d only just met him and wasn’t about to let him force her into anything.

  Her phone buzzed against her leg, which meant either Dee or Jack was calling.

  “Excuse me,” she murmured while getting the cellular from her pocket. A glance at the display had her smiling.

  She looked up at Carsten. “Is that all?”

  He dipped his head once and turned away.

  While she watched him, she put the phone to her ear. “Yes, Jack.”

  “Are you coming home soon?”

  “You’ll be asleep when I get there.”

  “Max and I can until you come.”

  She bit her bottom lip, holding in a smile. “You and that dog. Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “But Mommy—”

  “I’m serious and if Dee says a word about you giving any trouble, you'll be in hot water with me.”

  A heavy sigh was his first response, before he gave in. “All right. G’night, Mommy.”

  “’Night, hon.”

  She gathered the few unclaimed invoices left on the table, laid them in the file jacket and dropped it in the plastic box she lifted from the seat next to her. When she straightened to her full height, Carsten Raimes stood opposite her. Over the table, he held out a brochure. “If you can’t come, please give me a call, but in the meantime, have a look at that to get a better idea of what my business is about.”

  “Thanks.” She glanced at the thick stock before raising her eyes to his.

  “See you tomorrow,” he said, striding away from the table.

  Taking a couple of steps, Feechi poked her head into the room where the auction had been held. Only Carl and Marcus were inside, moving the carpets that hadn’t found buyers.

  Within twenty minutes, she settled the credit card machine and checked off the invoices against the amounts collected. Everything added up exactly, but she’d drop by Marlon’s office for a final tally in the morning.

  After getting his attention and handing the box to him, she was ready to leave. They walked down the passage together and as they passed through the swanky lobby, fitted with black and white futuristic furniture and abstract paintings, she spotted Carsten coming out of the coffee shop with a logoed brown bag in one hand. She wondered what was inside, since he didn’t seem like the sort who’d have a sweet tooth.

  Marlon stopped to speak with Carsten and she continued on her way to the parking lot.

  When she sat in her Subaru, she remembered Carsten’s question about whether she drove. She drove all right. This fifteen-year-old clunker was her means of getting around. She and Dee often joked it was a miracle the car still ran. It looked fair-to-fine on the outside, but its innards were another matter.

  She turned the key in the ignition and waited as it rattled, shimmied and whirred to life. Patting the steering wheel, she murmured, “That’s it, Helen. You can do it.”

  She pulled out of the parking spot and swept past the entrance where Carsten and Marlon stood talking. Marlon waved at her, which forced her to toot the horn. Carsten stood with one hand in his pocket, flashing a smile which probably wasn’t meant for her.

  The car rolled toward the security post and thankfully, the guard raised the bar before she had to come to a stop. The dual entrance/exit was on an incline and within sight of where the two men stood. If she'd had to come to a dead stop, the car would have shook and rattled, which would have been embarrassing.

  The moment Feechi hit the road, her shoulders relaxed and she turned the radio to a station playing Christmas music. November had barely stepped in, but the island's radio stations had started blasting Christmas carols since October.

  Though it was stressful to think about the holiday season that early on her meager budget, the music lifted her spirit and took her mind off the problems she’d been ignoring. There was the station wagon that needed servicing and Max, Jack's sidekick he'd soon have to give up.

  She still hadn't figured out a way to prepare Jack and didn't want to think about how disappointed he'd be when she told him they couldn't keep Max.

  Chapter 2

  “So, Feechi.” Carsten narrowed his eyes and tipped his head to one side. “Did I pronounce that right?”

  When she nodded, he continued speaking. “Tell me a little bit about yourself.”

  Her first instinct was to remind him they were there to discuss business, but that would have been rude, so she sipped from her glass of lime squash while deciding what to tell him. Since this was sort of a job interview, she was only obligated to discuss details that concerned him.

  “I’m thirty. My day job is at a shipping company. I'm an admin assistant, and you know I work for Marlon on the side.”

  “How did you meet him?”

  “He’s friends with my boss, so when he was looking for someone to help with the auctions, he told him about me.”

  “You come highly recommended then.”

  “You could say that.”

  She scanned the area where they sat, across from the bar in a re
cessed space that gave the impression it was designed for privacy. The hotel's black and white theme was toned down to a creamy, beige-and-deep-brown furnishing scheme. People in work clothes sat around them, some using laptops, others conversing over beer mugs and winding down for the weekend.

  When Feechi’s eyes rested on Carsten, she realized she’d been avoiding him. His long-sleeve shirt, open at the neck, hinted that he'd discarded his tie before meeting her.

  His presence wasn’t threatening, but something about him made her nervous. It could have been his silence or the way he studied her, as if he found her fascinating and what she had to say was important to him. His lips moved and it took her brain a moment to decipher his words.

  “Did you look at the brochure?”

  "Yes, I did." She took another sip of her drink, relieved that she'd scanned the brochure before getting out of the Subaru.

  Carsten raised the mug of beer to his mouth and tilted his head back while he made half of the beer disappear.

  She didn’t know him well enough to comment on his thirst level, so she let that pass and kept her smile to herself.

  “So then you understand my line of business.”

  “I notice that you auction other items as well.”

  “Yes, but I specifically need your help with the carpets. I have a new shipment and prefer not to have the lot beyond a certain time frame, that’s why I need you.”

  The emphasis he put on the last three words made her gaze lock with his. His stare was unblinking and made her uncomfortable, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Her voice was husky when she spoke. “So I gathered, but why d’you need my help? What happened with your last assistant?”

  A moment went by before he answered. “She was running her own gig on the side, skimming here and there, if you will.”

  She reassessed him, taking her time over it. His eyes revealed nothing, but from the way he crimped his mouth she gathered he wasn’t willing to share any additional details. If she was going to think about working for him, she needed to know more.