The Billionaire's Holiday Obsession

by Nadia Lee

  “I was…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I shouldn’t have taken advantage.”

  That stopped her in her tracks. “You didn’t. I liked it.”

  “I shouldn’t have run out on you like that though. I don’t think you liked that.”

  “Well, if we’re going to be blunt about it this early in the morning, and without a single drop of coffee… You’re right.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She started to say it was all right then caught herself. It hadn’t been all right. Not to her. She nodded. “Apology accepted.”

  Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. “I’m not good at this.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “What is this? Slumming?”

  “What? No. Jeez. You thought…” He shook his head, then suddenly laughed. “You must have the worst opinion of me. Look, it’s not like that at all. I’ve never lived with anybody other than my family before, okay? So it’s awkward for me. My exes never spent a night here.”

  A small pleasure warmed her heart. She didn’t care how absurd it was, she liked it that he hadn’t brought anybody here.

  “It was my idea to ask you to stay here, so what happened last night was taking advantage. I shouldn’t have done that,” Iain said.

  “Okay, stop already. It takes two to tango, and I said yes. It’s not all your fault.”

  “It doesn’t feel that way.”

  “But it is. I’m not going to let you take the blame for something I agreed to. I’m not some kid.”

  “Jane—”

  “No. You aren’t going to be stubborn about this. What we’re going to do is, we’re going to have a nice breakfast and go out shopping.”

  “But it’s Black Friday.” He stared at her like she’d just said she wanted them to roll all over an anthill buck-naked.

  “Which means I might actually be able to pick up something nice.”

  “But it’s Black Friday.”

  She had to laugh. “We’ll live.”

  * * *

  Iain wasn’t so sure. He took Jane to the mall, all the while questioning his sanity. He hated the crowds that were too busy for anything except bargains. They reminded him of vultures circling over a herd of dying cows. The greed shining from their eyes made him twitchy, but so far no one had tried to trample him or Jane to grab some cheap item off the racks around them.

  After a few hours of browsing and comparing things, she bought a few sweaters, seventy percent off. The colors were too dark, and they were far too big for her.

  “Who are they for?” Iain asked.

  “My family.”

  “I thought you weren’t talking to them anymore.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Are you going home this Christmas?”

  “Nope. Told ’em I wasn’t coming back till I’d made it.”

  “So why are you buying them gifts?”

  She gave him a look. “Because it’s Christmas. They’re still my family, and we never went without gifts, no matter how tight things were. I don’t see why I should skip this year.”

  He didn’t understand her logic. When he cut someone off, they stayed cut off. This halfway stuff was messy. “Are they going to send you something?”

  “Kinda hard when they don’t know where I am.”

  “You could tell them. It’s not a secret.” He cleared his throat. “If you miss them, why don’t you invite them here?”

  “To your penthouse?”

  “Uh, no. To L.A.”

  “Oh.” She laughed. “They wouldn’t want to come. I think the furthest they’ve ever gone was Pennsylvania one time.”

  “What’s in Pennsylvania?”

  “The All-Clad factory. They have a big sale every now and again, and my dad wanted to buy some pots and pans for Mom.”

  “Supposed to be a pretty good brand, right?” He remembered hearing about it from Mark, who knew quite a bit about kitchen equipment, even if he didn’t know what to do with any of it.

  “Good and expensive. But they only sell the dinged and scratched stuff at the sale, so it’s cheaper. Dad bought some for Mom. She wanted better cookware for a long time, and he figured why not.”

  Iain thought about the hassle of driving into a different state to buy some pots and pans. “He must love her.”

  “Loved.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago. I was only five.” Jane fingered the fabric of one of the sweaters. “I can barely remember what she looked like anymore. You’re so lucky.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you have both your parents.”

  He gave her a wry grin. “You still feel that way after that dinner?”

  “Yeah, I do. Why? Would you rather be without?”

  Good question. He’d never seriously considered what it would be like not to have his parents around. It had always been about his anger at them. His mother for being unfaithful, and his father for having driven her to it.

  But most importantly he was angry with himself for judging his mother so harshly. He’d decided what was what about the situation without hearing a single word of explanation. He just knew she’d had some affairs, and they had driven him insane… But how could he have confronted her?

  Mom, I saw you have sex with that guy. Can you explain that?

  Yeah. That was exactly the kind of conversation a teenage boy wanted to have. At the same time he hated her for staying with his father. If she wanted to cheat, shouldn’t she at least have divorced him? And his father… Salazar had known, but hadn’t divorced her because he was too busy cheating himself. In fact, he’d started the whole friggin’ cycle.

  Iain hated the lies and pretenses. All the sugary sweetness they’d told their children. Iain had softened it for his younger siblings. They didn’t need to know the truth, although he suspected they’d known far more than they should have at such young ages.

  “Anyway, what do you think your parents would like?”

  The question pulled him out of his dark thoughts. “What?”

  “I want to buy something for them, but I’m not sure exactly what.” She looked at the discount jewelry, picked up a piece. “I’m not even sure if something like this is your mother’s style.”

  Iain stared at the silver necklace with horror. Ceinlys would rather die than be seen with something that cheap around her neck. Everything she wore came from the most exclusive jewelers in the world.

  “Do you think it’s too pretentious to buy her jewelry?” Jane’s voice tightened with anxiety.

  “No, but… It’s just… Mom has more necklaces than she knows what to do with. Why don’t you let me buy something, and just make it from both of us? That way it’ll be simpler.”

  “What are you planning to get?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t know yet.”

  “Let me know how much I owe you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to know anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because.” He shrugged again, uncomfortable with her questions. “There’s a budget for that sort of thing, and my assistant’s going to take care of it.”

  Her eyes widened. “Wait. You don’t buy your family’s presents yourself?”

  “That’s my assistant’s job.”

  “Okay, but—”

  “Hey, you want some ice cream?” he asked, gesturing at the ice cream stand. He was not going to have this conversation, especially at a mall on Black Friday. “I’m thinking cookies and cream.”

  “Sure. Chocolate for me,” she said.

  Nothing like some sugar to distract a woman. It never failed. They sat side-by-side at the edge of a water fountain to have their ice cream.

  “But for something as personal as Christmas presents, shouldn’t you be involved?” she asked.

  Iain closed his eyes. Well, almost never. This was why Jane was complicated. She didn’t let things go. “My assistant knows what they got before, so she can buy whatever’s new. She tracks
those things.”

  “But Iain, the whole point is that you do it yourself.”

  “No, that’s not the point. I don’t have to do everything myself. My assistant’s much better at shopping than me, and it’s easier and more efficient.”

  “Don’t you want to think about your family and how much they’ll enjoy your gifts when you buy them? I mean…when I saw these sweaters, I knew they’d be perfect for my brothers and father. Paris is cold in winter, and these’ll keep them warm. And see, this green is the perfect shade for David. And this is…”

  Iain tuned her out. He didn’t have to go through that much trouble to ensure his gifts were appreciated. He knew they were appreciated, because nobody had complained.

  “You aren’t even listening to me, are you?” Jane said.

  “I’m listening. But it’s not going to change how I feel about it. I’m not changing the way I do things when I know my way’s better. Besides, I might not even go this year.”

  “Why not?”

  He stared at her. “Weren’t you with me at my parents’ place yesterday? Christmas will be a lot more fun in the Bahamas.”

  “No, it won’t. Holiday time is family time.”

  “They just want the presents,” he joked.

  “Well, I want to spend it with your family.”

  “Why the hell would you want to do that?”

  Jane grew thoughtful as she finished the final bite of her waffle cone. “I think it’ll hurt your mom not to have all her children there.”

  “She’s used to it.”

  “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Didn’t you notice the way she sighed when she realized your two rhyming brothers didn’t come?”

  Iain had, but he preferred not to think about what it meant. It complicated and confused things. There was nothing he could do about Dane or Shane, or how his mother felt about them. “What about your family?” he said. “Don’t you think they’ll be sad you’re going to miss Christmas after missing Thanksgiving too?”

  “I’m sure they will, but it can’t be helped.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they wouldn’t support me. I don’t want to go when I have nothing to show for my efforts. I don’t even have enough money to have a place of my own. I’m a burden to you right now, and I don’t want them to see me like this.”

  “You aren’t a burden.”

  “Sweet of you to say that, but yes, I am.” She sighed. “Let’s not fight, Iain. I’m just trying to enjoy the experience here.” She pulled out her phone. “Come on. Smile for the camera.”

  “Are you taking a selfie?”

  “We are taking a selfie.”

  “I don’t do selfies.”

  “Come on. Be a sport. I want to remember this moment and say, ‘Hey, this is the man who helped me out when I was a nobody.’”

  Iain sighed. “All right.”

  She took a shot, then frowned. “Can’t you look happier?”

  “This is as happy as I get.”

  “Even if I threaten to do something really gross if you don’t smile?”

  His lips twitched. “Like what?”

  “Hmm.” She considered. “I’m going to…um…make really loud farting noises.”

  “Weak!” He laughed. “You have five brothers, and that’s the best you can do?”

  “Ah there. That’s perfect.” She smiled as she studied the screen.

  “Let me see.” Iain glanced at it. He was laughing—really laughing—and Jane was adorable looking up at him. He swallowed a hot lump in his throat. His heart missed a beat, sending a sharp pang through him, and he pasted on a lopsided grin for her benefit. “Not bad.”

  “It’s great.” She put her phone away. “By the way, when are you getting a tree?”

  “I haven’t ordered one,” he said, relieved they were talking about something impersonal. Haven’t ordered one, and don’t plan on getting one. He hated Christmas trees. They created clutter, shedding pine-needle clutter, and you couldn’t get rid of them until after Christmas. Talk about blocked flow.

  She nodded and disappeared into the throng of bodies to wrestle other customers for ridiculous bargain items again. He rubbed his chest, willing it to stop aching.

  * * *

  After depositing the shopping bags in her room, Jane changed and went to Éternité for her shift. She still couldn’t believe Iain had been so cold about buying gifts. No, cold wasn’t the right word. Just…distant. It was like he didn’t want to even think about his family unless he had to, and she didn’t understand why. It was obvious he loved his brother and sister, and he’d been very sweet to his mother when she’d come by.

  Maybe he just didn’t like his father. She’d sensed something that felt awfully like anger whenever he’d glanced at Salazar. Maybe they’d argued about something and hadn’t had a chance to reconcile.

  “You’re early,” Sonny the saucier said as Jane entered the locker room. He was as skinny as a stick of angel hair pasta, with tightly cropped black hair and a pirate’s earring in his left ear. Everyone said Sonny was the best saucier Mark had, and apparently that had caused some sort of rivalry between him and the one from La Mer, another of Mark’s restaurants. “André wants to see you in his office.”

  “Did he say why?” Was she in trouble or something?

  “Nope. You should go now though. He hates waiting.”

  “Okay.” Jane went to the office, her new clogs tocking on the floor. André’s door was open, and he was making notes in a big binder. “Hey. You wanted to see me?”

  “Ah yes. Come in.” He gestured at her with his thick fingers.

  “Do you want me to close the door?”

  A Gallic shrug. “As you like.”

  She left it open and sat down.

  “So. Jane. I ’eard you went to the boss man’s Thanksgiving.”

  She flushed. “Mark didn’t invite me. It was his brother Iain.”

  “If you know such people, why do you want to work ’ere?” André gestured around. “And as a dishwasher?”

  “Because I want to cook,” she said.

  “Mm.” André sat for a long moment, looking directly at her. “Is that what you really want to do? Make two, three ‘undred entrees and appetizers per service? Be on your feet all day, every day of your life?”

  She nodded, feeling like this was some kind of test. Maybe he wanted to know how committed she was. Well, he’s not going to be disappointed.

  “You ’ave cooked for other people before?”

  “For my family, yes.”

  “’Ow many people?”

  “Six. Oh, plus me.”

  “Not too bad. And you enjoy cooking?”

  “I’m…” She stopped and considered. She didn’t want to brag, but she didn’t want to look like she was clueless either. “I’m pretty good. So yes.”

  “Non, non, non. That is not my question. Did you enjoy cooking for them? Did you enjoy the preparation, the real work of making the food? Did it give you pride and joy?”

  She frowned. She wasn’t really sure where he was going with this. “I don’t know about that, but it was always worth it to see my family enjoy the food I made for them.”

  André tapped his fingers. “And if you never get to see them enjoy the food but ’ear only the complaints, what then? Will you still be ’appy cooking?”

  She pulled her lips in. The scenario was preposterous. She’d never thought about it.

  “Well?” he said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then continue washing dishes until you do. And realize that if you answer yes, you are going to ’ave ’ands like mine.” He stuck his arms out. Thick calluses covered his palms and fingers, and there were two bright red blisters on his knuckles. “Your ’ands will become like this if you want to cook in a professional kitchen. It doesn’t matter where you go. This is your future. And this too.” He pulled up his sleeves, showing both old and new scars marring his forearms. “Below the elbow, I cannot f
eel it when I burn myself anymore. I can pick up ’ot lids without a potholder.” He leaned back in his seat. “You told me twice you want to cook. But don’t stay the course out of the stubbornness, eh? You cannot live your life like a donkey.

  “When I was young, I got this idea in my ’ead I wanted to be a French chef. I would only cook French food because that was what everyone did…and of course it is the best. But I liked to blend the tastes too, and I loved the food I had in China and Japan. I’m ’appier when I can experiment, go beyond French cooking from time to time. If I remained like a donkey, I would still be cooking only French food. And unhappy, even though it is the best.”

  She blinked a few times. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because in you, I see my younger self. Stubborn, desperate to prove myself. Life is ’ard. Why make it ’arder? Do what is right for you. Who cares what other people say? Pfft. They do not matter. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir…er…André.”

  “Good, good. Now we are finished.” He waved her out. “You go work and call me when you know.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was a loooong evening. She’d thought people might not want to dine out after Thanksgiving, what with all the leftovers and all. But no. Éternité had been packed.

  “It’s always full here,” the busboy said tiredly.

  Finally, at eleven thirty, she racked the last pan and stretched her lower back. It was tight and achy. She hadn’t felt like this since…forever. On top of that she was tired from not having slept very well the night before. Maybe she should’ve napped in the afternoon, but the Black Friday deals had just been too good to pass up. That was the only way she would be able to afford anything nice for everyone this Christmas. And Iain deserved something extra special. She wanted to give him something that would make him feel good every time he looked at it.

  As Éternité’s workers trudged toward the locker room, she said, “Hey, does anybody know where I can buy a tree?”

  “You mean like a Christmas tree?” Sonny said.

  “Yeah. I need one.”

  “I can get you one,” one of the cooks said in a softly accented English. Beads of sweat glistened on his olive-complexioned face. “I know some people. Where do you need it?”