“Adam lives in the penthouse that should have had the art deco tree. You remember—the one being photographed for Town Square tomorrow morning?”
If she hadn’t been so tired, she would have been able to keep her own caustic remark to herself. She regretted the words even before Ivy’s eyes filled with tears.
“I’ve ruined everything!”
Holly closed her eyes briefly as she geared herself up for another pep talk. “Are you kidding? This is nothing compared to what we’ve faced before. Hitches like this are going to happen. We just have to go on. We can make it work—we have to—and we will!”
Laurel and Ivy nodded as Holly spoke, responding to a litany they’d heard before.
Another crisis averted. Holly breathed an inward sigh of relief until she stood in the foyer. She came to a sudden halt, lips parted. “Did they steal the White House Christmas tree?”
The beautiful fir in the sorority-house atrium soared two stories above them.
“We always got one like that when I lived here,” Laurel said. Holly’s shocked face didn’t seem to faze her a bit. “You’re worried about the top, aren’t you? No problem. See, you can get to it from the balcony.”
“I’m worried about the middle.” Holly slumped onto the bottom step suddenly feeling very tired.
“I’ll start unloading, Holly.” Adam’s voice sounded just above her.
“Wait. I need to think. We might not use these.” Holly stared at the giant tree, elbows on her knees, hands steepled. Adam’s hand rested briefly on her shoulder and he sat quietly beside her. The reassuring warmth of his simple touch relaxed the kinks in her upper back.
“Quiet! Genius at work!” came Laurel’s snide remark.
“I’m open to suggestions,” Holly countered. Couldn’t Laurel behave herself just this once? “Even if you’d had the right decorations, there aren’t enough for that tree. Didn’t you tell them what size to buy?”
“We’ve always had a big tree here,” Laurel said matter-of-factly.
“What did you decorate it with?”
“A mishmash. It never looked very good.”
Holly rolled her eyes.
“That’s why I was able to persuade them to hire us!”
Holly ran her hands through her curls. “That tree will swallow decorations. It needs more—that’s why we charge extra for large trees.”
“You always said simple was more elegant, that it was easy to overdo,” offered Ivy in a small voice.
“That’s not the problem here!” Holly said, her exasperation evident.
Laurel narrowed her eyes. “But you’re oh-so-thrilled we had one, right? All evening, Ivy and I wondered when you’d show up.”
“You called me,” Holly reminded her.
“Just giving Mama hen an excuse to rescue her baby chicks.”
“Laurel,” Holly warned, acutely aware of Adam beside her. “We’re all tired and edgy. Let’s just do the best we can.”
“If the tree in the penthouse is a sample of your usual work, your best will be more than enough.” Adam leaned closer as he spoke, his words caressing both her cheek and her bruised feelings.
Adam had been so terrific, he didn’t deserve to be subjected to this. Holly turned to him with a sheepish smile. “We usually get along just fine.”
He smiled. “Sure you do. I’ve got a younger brother and sister myself.”
She wrinkled her nose. “But you’re not still living with them.”
“Holly?” Ivy spoke hesitantly, her hands clasped nervously together.
Adam noted idly that Ivy’s voice had the same low pitch as her sisters’ and he’d run out of liquor to describe it to himself. Brandy? Holly jumped up and offered him a hand. He found himself grasping it, glad of an excuse to touch her again. He didn’t let go, and for the moment, Holly was content to leave her hand in his.
Ivy continued, “If we’ve got the deco and the bears here, what did you put on Adam’s tree?”
Holly looked quickly at Adam and laughed. “Polar bears.”
“We don’t have them.” Laurel began bumping the dolly down the two steps onto the tiled floor of the atrium.
“We do now.”
Laurel shot her a shrewd look, which Holly met blandly.
“Buy them from Bloomie?”
Holly swallowed. “Uh-huh.”
Laurel and Ivy exchanged a glance before unsnapping the cords and opening the boxes.
The four of them stared at the contents of the boxes and then at the tree. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” Holly said briskly. “Ivy, go back home and get the ribbons and bows left from that job where the tree was too small. And . . . don’t we have some grapevine wreaths somewhere? Bring lots of ribbon. Any color.” Holly closed her eyes to the wine-colored furniture in the public areas ringing the atrium. They didn’t have time for the nuances of color coordination now.
“I’ve got it!” Laurel’s dramatic declaration caught the group’s attention. Holly sneaked a peek at Adam and wistfully saw that he seemed as fascinated with Laurel as every other man who’d met her. Even though she’d long ago accepted Laurel’s effect on men, Holly had hoped Adam would be immune. Of course, she hadn’t staked her claim or anything. And she knew Laurel wouldn’t deliberately steal him—she gave her credit for that.
“You were going to tell us these bears were too small, weren’t you, Holly?”
Holly gave her a lopsided grin. “Eventually.”
“There are hundreds of teddy bears in this house. They’re our mascot, remember? We’ll borrow them and put them on the tree. We can use that pretty green plaid ribbon to tie bows around their necks. The unifying theme, right?” Laurel paused to note the group’s approval.
Holly opened her mouth, but Laurel rushed on, “I know burgundy ribbon would be better with the furniture, but I don’t think we have that much in stock.”
Holly began to nod. “It’ll work.” She grinned at Laurel. “It’ll work, don’t you think, Adam? It’s got to work.” She seized his arm, looking up at him eagerly.
“Bear bows?” he asked faintly.
Holly noticed Adam was more enthusiastic about an hour later, when he found himself surrounded by several dozen pajama-clad young women clutching teddy bears.
“I like your job,” he said to Holly as she whirled past him.
“I’ll bet,” she replied, raising her brows at the line of nymphets waiting to have Adam add ribbons to their bears. She hadn’t missed the fact that when the girls returned upstairs to sort through their stuffed animals, many had exchanged voluminous football jerseys and ratty bathrobes for teddies of quite a different sort.
She could hardly blame them, she thought as she once again pushed the sleeves of her oversize sweater above her elbows. Adam had charm. He was older and had an innate sophistication guaranteed to appeal to the college women. And to her.
The tree-decorating turned into a party. No one had been asleep, even though it was approaching midnight. And clearly, no one had any intention of going to sleep now. Adam was definitely enjoying himself.
“I’ve got no right to be jealous. I’ve got no time to be jealous,” Holly said softly to herself. They’d only just met, but she couldn’t stop reminiscing about the quiet conversation in front of the fire, or stifle the tingle of anticipation she felt at the thought of seeing him tomorrow.
She was glad Adam had come with them, she realized, watching as he deftly fastened the bears to the branches in the middle of the tree. Not that she wouldn’t have been able to handle it herself. She’d always managed before, and she wasn’t about to go all mushy and helpless over an attractive man.
Of course, Adam’s looks transcended mere attractiveness.
“Do you think we can get him to come with us to do all the other sororities
’ trees?”
“Laurel! You didn’t tell me. That’s fantastic—”
“Oh, we don’t have them as clients yet,” Laurel said confidently, “but we will. Just wait until word gets out about this.”
“I think it already has.” Holly motioned toward the disapproving housemother who had appeared on the scene.
“Never mind, this will make our reputation,” Laurel said. “I guarantee they’ll be talking about the Epsilon Eta girls for weeks.”
“I thought you meant Deck the Halls’s reputation.”
“I did, but there are other things in life, as I hope you’ve finally noticed,” Laurel replied with a nod upward at Adam.
Holly turned her direct gaze on Laurel. “I noticed.” She chose another bear to hand up to Adam. “But right now, nothing can interfere with Deck the Halls. Nothing.”
“A LAWYER? A bankruptcy lawyer?” Ivy looked at Holly in astonished surprise. Her sisters had fired the expected questions at Holly the moment they’d dropped Adam off at the penthouse. She had carefully sidestepped his occupation until now, though she didn’t know why she’d bothered. After tomorrow, she wouldn’t see him again. She couldn’t.
“You made friends with one of those parasites?” Laurel looked at Holly as if she had betrayed national secrets.
“You mean vultures,” Ivy corrected.
“What’s the difference? Both feed off dead bodies,” Laurel said caustically.
“Or dead companies,” Ivy added with bitterness.
Holly felt relieved. Ivy and Laurel were helping her feel the anger and resolve Adam had dazzled out of her. He’d caught her at a weak moment, that was all.
She unlocked the front door to a home not much smaller than the sorority house they’d just left. “I’m glad you two didn’t let your feelings show around Adam. It would be a novelty to have a lawyer on our side.” Holly propped the door open with a box filled with odds and ends.
“We didn’t know he was a lawyer then,” Ivy reminded her.
“He could have made things very difficult. I was supposed to be finished and out of that penthouse by ten. I wasn’t and had the wrong decorations to boot.”
“Ah, yes. Bloomie to your rescue.” Laurel rolled the dolly out of the van.
“Where’s Mama’s necklace going this time?” Ivy slammed the van doors shut so that Holly could drive it around to the garage.
“Ruthie’s wedding.” It was difficult to meet Ivy’s eyes.
“I wondered why she hadn’t been working in their shop lately. Well, you better hope Bloomie doesn’t dance with any jewelers,” Ivy warned.
“Now that has possibilities,” said Laurel, who’d returned for the second cart. “We could claim the real necklace was stolen. Is it still insured, Holly?”
Holly shook her head as she started the van. “Too expensive. Mama only kept the policy so that Daddy wouldn’t know she’d sold the real diamonds.”
“Sure explains how she stretched the household money.” Laurel dropped the last of the boxes with a soft thud. “I’m pooped. Let’s unpack in the morning.”
“It’s already morning,” Ivy said, heading for the stairs just as Holly came down the hall.
“Ladies, sleep will have to wait.” Holly raised her voice to drown out the inevitable moaning. “The photo shoot at the penthouse begins at ten and that tree needs more work. Ivy, why don’t you look for those silver snowflakes? I’ve got some stuff I’d like to take over just in case they want some of the room decorated. You ought to see it, the art deco would have been—” Holly broke off and hoped Ivy wouldn’t get upset all over again.
“Laurel, if you really think the other sororities would be interested, you should take the portfolio around tomorrow morning. We need to update our supply list so that we don’t have any more mix-ups. After that, you can pack for the Stoffer’s job. I’ve got two trees there. What do you think about doing an angel tree and the deco one, now that the stuff’s available?”
“I don’t think. I can’t think. I’m exhausted.” Laurel pressed her hands to her head. “Holly, the main season’s only a week old and look at us. We can’t keep this up.”
“We have to,” Holly said grimly. “Look, we’re so close to making Deck the Halls support us for the whole year. You don’t want to go back to Exemplary Temporaries any more than I do.”
Laurel brushed her lightened, champagne-streaked hair back from her face. “Lord, I hate that place. Still can’t pronounce it, but right now, it’s looking better and better.” She turned to go up the stairs, nearly tripping over a warm lump.
Ivy had fallen asleep, her head against the railing.
Laurel glared reproachfully at Holly. “It can wait until morning. Come on, Ivy.”
Holly grabbed her arm. “The Town Square shoot is the biggest break we’ve ever had! If we play it right, we could have more clients than we can handle.” Holly watched in vexation as Laurel ignored her, helping a groggy Ivy to her feet.
“Gotta get snowflakes for Holly,” Ivy mumbled.
“Later,” Laurel murmured to her. “She’s exhausted, Holly!”
“We might get the cover. Don’t you understand how important this is? You can sleep all afternoon!” Holly argued.
“I want to sleep now,” Laurel said, each word distinct and final. “Tomorrow afternoon, you’ll have something else for us to do.”
“You’re right,” Holly said, making it sound like an accusation. “You two get some sleep. I’ll come upstairs in a little while.”
“Lay off, Holly. You can stay down here and play martyr by yourself this time.” Laurel continued to guide Ivy up the stairs. “Besides, the Stoffer job is for charity and it’s stupid to waste our two best themes on them.”
Holly stared at her sisters and blinked rapidly. If they’d just work a little harder. That wasn’t too much to ask. It wasn’t as though it would be forever—just during the Christmas season.
She’d make it in spite of them. In spite of everyone. Holly ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed her neck and shoulders. She ached to follow Ivy and Laurel up the stairs.
The chirp of the telephone on the hall table startled her and she jerked up the receiver before the second ring. Who would call at two o’clock in the morning? Holly was tempted to hang up, convinced it must be a crank call. On the other hand, didn’t relatives always call with bad news in the middle of the night? Memories of another middle-of-the-night phone call haunted her as she spoke softly into the receiver.
“Come have breakfast with me.” The pleasant, honey-coated words instantly soothed her apprehensions.
“Adam.” Holly closed her eyes and allowed her smile to sound in her voice.
“I’ll cook.”
“That’s quite an offer.”
“Is that a yes?”
The almost whispered words wrapped Holly in a sensation of warm intimacy as she stood in the dark hall.
“Yes.”
“Sweet dreams.”
Holly smiled and gently put the receiver down. Adam’s words were a good-night caress. Had she already been in bed, she could have fallen asleep with their echoes. The thought was very appealing.
But not as appealing as a Town Square magazine cover. Holly started walking briskly toward the laundry, hoping the plastic snowflakes were stored in what had once been the maid’s quarters.
HOLLY HAD NEVER realized how heavy a polar-bear rug could be. She enveloped herself in its musty warmth and leaned against the padded walls of the elevator, oblivious to the white hairs that rubbed off.
“I don’t believe it.” Adam shook his head as the private elevator opened and Holly and the bear emerged. “Where did you get that thing?”
“From the display window at a travel agency. They were promoting ski trips.” Holly lurched over to the
fireplace, heaved the bear off her shoulders and arranged it in front of the white-brick hearth. “Her name is Bianca.”
“They just let you walk out with it—her? Or did you and your sisters do a little breaking and entering after you dropped me off?”
Holly’s angry reaction caught Adam unprepared.
“We don’t break the law.” She gazed at him with a disturbingly intent look. It willed him to believe her.
The twinkle, usually present in Adam’s blue eyes, was momentarily extinguished and his face became a pleasantly bland mask. Yet its mildness was purposeful and controlled. “I’m not implying that you do,” he said in a voice that matched his expression. “I meant it as a joke.”
Holly guessed this was his courtroom face, even though he’d denied that he spent time in the courtroom. It just seemed to be something lawyers knew how to do.
“Furthermore, I resent this unfounded hostility you have toward me. I was not involved in whatever legal problems you’ve had in the past, and I’m tired of tiptoeing around in case I step on your feelings.” Adam stood above her, his face devoid of the warmth she’d come to expect.
Holly’s lips parted slightly. She missed his smile with its outrageous dimples. “What was the question?”
“You three do a little breaking and entering after you dropped me off?” Adam repeated lightly.
“Nah. Would have been easier. One of us has to go back and redecorate their window.”
Holly was wrestling with the bear and missed the look of tenderness on Adam’s face. She looked particularly soft and touchable this morning. She wore camel-colored slacks and a creamy turtleneck sweater, and had negligently cast off a matching tan coat, which had slid from the sofa to the floor.
As Adam bent to pick it up, he noted the label and felt the extravagant softness that told him it was camel hair.
Holly was on her knees, turning the bear this way and that. Adam silently placed the coat on the sofa, next to the shoulder bag Holly had slung down beside it. A rich brown alligator. He shoved his hands into his pockets and checked her shoes. Matching loafers.
Adam began to piece together Holly’s unmentioned past. Last night’s visit to the private and expensive Southern Methodist University campus, accompanied by Laurel’s references to her sorority, told him Holly and her sisters had come from a privileged background.
Deck the Halls Page 3