by Zoe Reid
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Table of Contents
My Secret Santa
Description
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Want More?
About the Author
Tinsel My Tree
My Secret Santa
By
Zoe Reid
Description
Set in Wyoming -- This is a story of opposites attracting. She comes from money and lives on a big farm, raised to be oh so proper. He comes to the house to work for her father, and the rest is history...
Introduction
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Chapter 1
Sean
“When does this driveway end?” I mumbled to myself as the chained tires of my pickup slowly maneuvered down the long ass driveway toward my next job. I counted my blessings that I’d managed to pick up a month-long position, but with the last snowfall, it made traveling across the estate much harder than it needed to be. I hoped these people owned a plow or else I’d be shoveling until New Year’s.
I shielded my eyes against the rising sun in the distance. I was no stranger to early hours, but I hoped every day wasn’t a five in the morning arrival.
Working for one of the wealthiest families in the area was damn lucky. Mom spotted the ad in the newspaper, and I’d called and was hired on the spot. My resume spoke for itself. Over the last year, I worked my ass off doing odd jobs to keep the money flowing steadily into our family. Dad’s medical bills weren’t going to pay themselves. After Dad’s most recent flare-up, he decided to retire. Now I had the welfare of my family to worry about. This job would pay enough to get the bills under control until at least March.
No matter what I did, I had to keep this job.
On the phone, the caretaker mentioned that this position might be long-term if I proved myself. Living in Casper, Wyoming, not far from the estate, a long-term position would work out perfectly. I wouldn’t have to jump from job to job, and I’d be close to my parents.
That was a win-win if I ever heard one.
I wasn’t sure how to prove myself worthy except for doing the best damn job I could. Which wasn’t hard since Dad taught me from a young age that working hard gives you all the rewards. I was ready for those rewards as soon as possible.
The main house slowly appeared in the distance as the truck ambled closer. I let out a low whistle as the size of the house was much more expansive than I originally thought. I knew of the estate, everyone in the county did, but since it was so set back from the road, not a lot of locals knew what the actual house looked like unless they were invited inside.
The two-floor wide stone structure looked as if it were carved from the Earth. Several peaks jutted out toward the sky, looming over me as I pulled the truck onto the paved part of the driveway. It appeared as if someone already cleared some of the snow away which was a welcome relief to my truck. It had seen better days, and I knew she needed a little rest before getting the hard work done.
I jumped out of my truck and headed for the front door, unable to take my eyes off the biggest house I’d ever seen. Even though it was more rustic than I imagined, it wasn’t short on elegance at all. From outside, I saw a massive stone fireplace through one of the tall windows. The Turner family was worth hundreds of millions, and this amazing house was only part of what to show for it.
Coming up the walkway, the front door opened.
Out walked an older man, probably in his fifties. I guessed he was the caretaker I spoke with on the phone. He wore a thick plaid jacket and shiny black boots.
“Good morning,” he said as he approached. His voice was firm and boomed even in the wide expanse of land around us.
I shook his hand. “Mr. Carter. It’s nice to meet you.”
He smiled. “I’m not Mr. Carter; I’m Paul Turner.”
A breath caught in my throat. “Mr. Turner, I’m sorry. I assumed—”
“Don’t fret,” he said, still shaking my hand. The shake was firm, and I wasn’t letting go until he did. “Mr. Carter handles the business side of the household. When it comes to meeting employees face to face, I like to be the front man.”
I nodded. “Your house is impressive.”
Paul glanced at his mansion as if he were looking at it for the first time. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
In the little research, I did on my future employees, I knew Paul Turner owned an oilfield service company in Casper, Turner Energy Services. All the articles written about him had nothing negative to say about the man. He was a hard-worker and reaped the benefits from the business that was passed down to him from his grandfather. There was no shame in that.
I’d never make nearly as much money, but as long as I had my values and a steady job, I knew I’d be okay.
“You have quite the handshake,” Paul said, grinning. “I like that.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I said, finally letting go. His was impressive too, and quite strong. I flexed my hand behind my back so the cold air wouldn’t cramp up my fingers even more.
“Mr. Carter told you that this position has the possibility of going long-term?” Paul asked.
“Yes, Sir,” I said. “I’m very interested in that prospect.”
“That’s great,” Paul said. “We’ll see how this month goes and will discuss it then.”
“Sounds good.”
“Now, this week you’ll need to focus on snow removal and starting on the Christmas decorations. My wife, Bethany, is a little obsessed with the holiday, so there is a lot.”
“No problem,” I said. I wasn’t a stranger to decorating a house for Christmas. Mom was the same way. The electric bill suffered throughout December, but the smile on her face every night, when she lit up the house, was worth its weight in gold.
“There’s a truck with a plow in the garage,” Paul said. “And a snow blower. I did a little this morning, but I’m off to Colorado this morning and didn’t have much time to clear away as much as I wanted.”
Interesting. A millionaire that shoveled his own snow. It wasn’t what I expected, but it made me like him even more.
“Some of the decorations are in the attic of the garage as well,” Paul added. “Oh and one more thing.” Paul dug out a key from his pocket and handed it over. “This is a key to our guest house.”
“What’s in there?” I asked. “More decorations?”
Paul laughed. “A bed for you to sleep.”
“Oh, I don’t live that far away,” I said.
“I know,” he said. “But it might be easier at times to stay on the estate. If you are too tired to drive or if the snow gets too bad.”
I took the key from him and held it in my hand. My own place on this estate? How fricken cool was that? I tried to curb my excitement. “Thank you.”
Paul glanced at his watch. A shiny silver one, or maybe it was platinum. Either way, I was sure it cost more than my parent’s house. “My car will be arriving shortly. I will return later in the week. If you have any questions at all, do not hesitate to call me. And if you need more immediate help you can talk to my wife, Bethany, or my children.”
“I appreciate that,” I said. If I was going to prove myself I didn’t want to have to bother his family.
Paul clapped a hand on my back. “It’s nice to have you as a part of the team, Sean.”
“Thank you for the opportunity.”
Paul nodded. “The garage is over that way. You can get started on the snow removal now. Don’t worry about waking the family they could sleep through an earthquake.”
I met his smile and headed off as he turned back toward the house.
The five-car garage was situated at the side of the house. I still couldn’t believe I was on the Turner property at all, never mind that I was working for them. I shoved the key into my pocket. If I wanted, I could even live on the premises as well.
My small apartment over the local diner in town wasn’t much, but it was a roof over my head. And it was free as long as I helped out with odd jobs around the building. Staying here would be a little vacation from reality. If I were to make it a full-time position, then I wondered if I would be a permanent resident on this amazing property.
The thought gave me a little thrill, and I couldn’t stop smiling as I entered the garage.
Each of the stalls had a luxury car, and I took a moment to admire each of them. I tried to place each car with each of the family members, but I didn’t know them well enough yet.
The fifth stall was sectioned off with equipment such as the truck with the plow and a large riding mower. It would probably take days to mow the property, and I wondered if that would be a job for me in the spring if I made it that far.
Getting into the truck, I smoothed my hand over the leather seats. I could get used to this.
I started on the circular driveway in front of the house. The snow was heavy, but it was no match for me. When that was clear, I moved to the front of the property and started on the longer strip of driveway.
By the time I made it back to the front of the house, the snow had started to fall again. At least when I came around again later in the day, I’d have an easier time of it. With the weather forecast, I knew plowing would be a major part of my job.
Once I made it back to the house, I grabbed a shovel and carved out the edges of the driveway.
When I was about done, I swept the front steps to make sure no one slipped if they came out.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when the front door opened.
A woman, presumably Paul’s wife, Bethany, stuck her head out from the doorway. Her black hair was perfectly shaped around her face, the tips brushing against her jawline.
“Sean, please come in for breakfast,” she said.
“Oh, I already ate,” I said, unsure of the etiquette.
She blinked slowly, but her expression didn’t budge. “I insist.” And then she disappeared, leaving the door slightly ajar.
I leaned the broom against one of the stone columns and brushed off my boots before heading inside.
Chapter 2
Brooklynn
A gentle chirping sound woke me out of a twilight sleep. I let it fill my ears for a moment before reaching over to the bedside table and picking up my phone.
Glancing at the screen, I missed several texts that morning. The top one was from Mom, telling me to come down for breakfast.
I groaned and laid back on my bed. Why did she insist that we have meals together even when Daddy was gone? She knew I needed at least eleven hours of sleep.
Now that she woke me, I couldn’t even feel the remnants of sleep anymore. I whipped the duvet cover off my body and stretched my arms above my head. Maybe after filling my stomach with something delicious that Mary prepared, I’d be able to come back up and rest for the remainder of the day.
There was nothing on my schedule, as usual, so I could afford to laze around the house as I pleased.
I sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, digging my feet into the Ugg slippers that were waiting for me. They didn’t match my Tweety Bird PJ set, but I didn’t care. If Mom saw how she disturbed my sleep, she’d have to insist I went back up to my room.
I flipped my phone to silent and shoved it into the pocket of my shorts. At least she won’t be able to wake me up again by texting.
Shuffling down the hallway, I raked my hands through my hair, trying to calm the mass of curls.
Making my way down the first half of the stairs, voices echoed from the Great Room. I stopped in my tracks to listen. Mom was talking to someone. A man. Not Daddy. He was supposed to leave earlier this morning.
Then who?
I didn’t wonder long as Mom walked through the foyer with a guy in tow.
I ducked and pressed myself against the banister. Mom’s heels clicked over the marble floor as the guy strode next to her. My jaw nearly dropped when I saw him.
He was gorgeous! I could tell by his jeans and boots that he was the new handyman that Daddy hired to help us throughout the month.
His hair was dark, and so was his scruffy beard. He looked like a mountain man. A scorching one to say the least. He was at least a foot taller than Mom, which wasn’t hard but with her six-inch heels, he was a grizzly bear compared to her.
Waves of tingles moved through me, settling in my stomach. I couldn’t meet this guy dressed like a teenager.
Once they were gone, I ran up the stairs to change.
Whipping through my clothes, I picked out a pair of black leggings and a gray sweater dress. In the bathroom, I brushed my teeth while pulling my hair back into sections, creating a half-up look while allowing the rest of my curls to tumble down to my shoulders. I hated pulling my hair all the way up. I liked my curls, as much as Mom tried to tame them for me. It gave me a guilty pleasure to see her face every morning when I didn’t hot iron them out.
I slapped on a layer of makeup and checked myself out in the mirror. Not bad for almost a half-hour of work. I didn’t want to take too much time. I had no idea when Mom would kick him out of the dining room to start working.
Slipping on a pair of flats, I raced down to the first floor.
Outside of the dining room the sound of Mom’s voice and clanking utensils filtered into the hallway. I wasn’t too late.
I fluffed my hair one more time before pushing through the doors.
Both of them looked at me. I stared at Mom, pretending I had no idea I saw him sitting at the table. I needed the upper hand. He didn’t need to know that I made myself up to meet him. As far as he knew, I always looked like this first thing in the morning.
“It’s about time,” Mom said, snapping her fingers at Mary.
Our housekeeper bobbed her head and rounded the table toward the kitchen.
I lifted my chin up high and strode over to my seat in the middle of the table to her left.
There was a place setting next to him: my usual seat. I wouldn’t be able to ignore him for long.
The handyman stood up from his seat.
I looked at him out of surprise than anything else. No one other than Daddy ever stood when I sat down. It was an antiquated tradition that always rubbed me strangely. But not from this guy. He had manners that was all.
“Good morning, Mother,” I said to Mom.
Mom cringed. She hated when I called her that. It was usually as a joke or when she pissed
me off. I didn’t know why I fell into such a formal tone. This guy was doing strange things to my head.
“Brooklynn, this is Sean Wade. Our new handyman.”
I turned my gaze to him and melted into his dark brown eyes. They matched the color of his hair in that I could barely see the irises.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, sitting down.
Before I could place my napkin in my lap, Mary returned, presenting a plate in front of me. Two eggs over hard with whole wheat toast and a side of strawberries. Just as I liked it.
“You as well,” he said. His voice was like silk, smooth, yet deep. The vibration of his voice stirred something within me. Why hadn’t Daddy hired a handyman sooner? Though I was sure, he wouldn’t want me attracted to the help. Mom would hate it.
I pressed my lips together, not allowing my smirk to show through.
He held out his hand, and I took it. His rough hands enveloped mine and electricity flowed through me at his touch.
I pulled my hand back, trying to compose myself.
“Anyway,” Mom’s voice cut through my muddled thoughts.
I tore my gaze away from Sean and tried to keep them on Mom. It wasn’t hard. Her eyes didn’t move from mine. Mom had a way of reading my mind at times and like hell would I let her know how much this new handyman affected me.
“Did Paul tell you what is expected?” Mom asked.
“He mentioned that this week I'd be focusing on Christmas decorations for the house,” Sean said and then bit into his piece of toast. Crumbs clung to his beard.
I glanced at Mom who clearly noticed. She probably regretted having him at her table, but I felt quite the opposite.
Since he was around for a full month, I wouldn’t mind starting every morning with him next to me.
“The outdoor lights are to be first and then there’s the matter of the tree. It will be delivered to the house tomorrow. Once it is here, the lights and baubles need to be placed. Mary will be able to give you a photograph of last year’s tree for inspiration.”