Contents
Also by Chasity Bowlin
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Afterword
Also by Chasity Bowlin
Also by Chasity Bowlin
THE DARK REGENCY SERIES
The Haunting of a Duke
The Redemption of a Rogue
The Enticement of an Earl
A Love So Dark
A Passion So Strong
A Heart So Wicked
An Affair So Destined (Preorder Now for January 2020)
STANDALONE
The Beast of Bath
The Last Offer
Worth the Wait
THE LOST LORDS SERIES
The Lost Lord of Castle Black
The Vanishing of Lord Vale
The Missing Marquess of Althorn
The Resurrection of Lady Ramsleigh
The Mystery of Miss Mason
The Awakening of Lord Ambrose
A Midnight Clear (A Lost Lords Holiday Novella)
The Midnight Hour: All Hallow’s Brides (featuring Hyacinth, A Lost Lords Novella)
The Pirate’s Bluestocking (A Pirates of Britannia World Novella featuring characters from the Lost Lords Series)
THE VICTORIAN GOTHIC COLLECTION
House of Shadows
Veil of Shadows
Passage of Shadows
THE HELLION CLUB
A Rogue To Remember
Barefoot in Hyde Park (Coming Soon)
What Happens In Picadilly (2020)
Sleepless in Southampton (2020)
When an Earl Loves a Governess (2020)
The Duke’s Magnificent Obsession (2020)
The Governess Diaries (2020)
CONTEMPORARY WORKS
Perfect Santa (A Howls Romance with co-author, Jessie Lane)
Two Tickets to Bearadise (Bearadise Lodge, Book One)
To all of my wonderful readers. May all your
Christmas dreams come true.
Prologue
Holly was running late for work, as usual. No matter how early she got up, it was never enough time in the morning. She eased her beat up compact car into one of the last available spaces reserved for employees of Bishop’s Department Store in the bustling garage. Doing a quick inventory to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything, she grabbed her purse, shut off the engine and made a dash for the elevator. Her hair was a mess, her makeup was not much better, but at least her clothes were clean and pressed. She’d done that last night because—well, what else did she have to do on a Friday night?
When she reached the elevator, Holly stared at the crowded car in dismay. She’d have to shed half her bodyweight to squeeze into the space left and even then, she wouldn’t be able to breathe in there. There was another fifteen minutes until the store opened, but taking the stairs would be a big delay. Still, Holly would rather be late than deal with the panic that would undoubtedly come from squeezing herself in like a sardine in a can.
“Go on ahead,” she said, and the doors closed in her face. She turned immediately and made for the stairs. As she opened the door to the stairwell, she glanced down at her watch as she stepped forward. Immediately, she slammed into something very hard and immovable. She stumbled backward, teetering on her sensible heels. A pair of strong hands closed over her arms, catching her before she could fall.
Looking up, Holly immediately wanted dig a hole and crawl into it. It was her boss. Not just a boss, but THE boss. Nathan Bishop, scion of the Bishop family and the man everyone hoped would be the salvation of the once thriving and now stalled Bishop’s Department Store.
“Miss Merriweather, are you all right?” he asked.
He knew her name. Holly nodded, unable to quite form words.
“You’re certain?” he asked again.
Forcing herself to speak despite her nerves, she said, “I’m quite all right, sir. I’m sorry. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going.”
“Apparently so should I,” he said.
Holly smiled nervously. He was so handsome. Every time she was in his presence she felt more than a little dumbstruck by him. “Well, it’s early in the morning. Everyone is in a rush.”
He stared at her for a second, his jaw tensing. “Right. In a rush. I’m sorry, but I have to go. Be careful, Miss Merriweather. The stairs can be treacherous,” he warned.
Holly was left standing there as he rushed past her and towards his car parked down at the end of the row in his reserved spot. She watched him go, feeling strangely bereft. It wasn’t as if it had been an intimate encounter. They’d just bumped into one another for Pete’s sake. But it was the closest she’d ever been to him. So close, in fact, that she could smell the subtle scent of his cologne, something woodsy and probably ridiculously expensive.
Whatever her fantasies were about the new CEO of Bishop’s, they were just that—fantasies. She’d hand him his coffee and make his sandwiches at lunchtime, but that was all. But at least now she’d have a new layer to add to her very rich fantasy life… his scent.
Shaking herself from her reverie, Holly continued down the stairs and for the main floor of the store. She’d just entered through the back doors and made her way to the archaic time clock. Grabbing her card from the rack of them, she punched it and then put the card back in it’s assigned spot. The store wasn’t open yet, but she was late. Her shift started at a quarter till nine so that the coffee would be ready when shoppers filed in. But shoppers didn’t file in. They trickled.
“You’re late, Miss Merriweather.”
Holly fought down a grimace of distaste. Kurt Bedwell, one of the HR assistants, should have better things to do than monitor the comings and goings of one solitary employee. Apparently she wasn’t that lucky.
“I’m aware… I’ll get to my station immediately,” she said.
He didn’t precisely block her path, but the space to move past him was noticeably cramped. “Don’t make a habit of it, Miss Merriweather,” he warned. “You’ve been a loyal employee at Bishop’s for many years. I’d hate to see you dismissed now because of an unfortunate pattern of tardiness.”
Holly said nothing, just nodded her head and squeezed past him to hurry out to the small coffee kiosk.
* * *
Nathan entered the offices of his attorney with a grim expression on his face. It was a meeting he dreaded, one where he learned just how much of the company’s assets had been squandered by his stepmother before the court had finally ruled on the validity of his father’s will.
The secretary nodded at him as he entered as she spoke into the small bluetooth earbud that she wore. She waved him on, indicating that he should go on. He knocked briefly on the office door then opened to let himself in.
“Nathan,” Collier Norris said, as he rose. “Traffic get you?”
Yes, but not of the vehicular variety. His morning collision with the woman of his dreams had left him momentarily distracted. More than momentarily if he were honest. Holly Merriweather was a distraction he couldn’t afford.
“Something like that. Just tell me, Norris, how bad is it?”
Collier sighed heavily and reached for a file. “It’s not good. There’s enough capital to keep the store going for another year, but not if you plan to make any improvements.”
Nathan cursed. “I have to make improvements! If I don’t turn this store
around then she wins!”
“Buddy, she’s already won. For the three years you fought her in court for control, she spent recklessly on ‘improvements’ and schemes that were destined for failure. Maybe the best thing for Bishop’s would be to sell out to one of the chains.”
Nathan shook his head. “Department store chains are dropping like flies. The thing that sets Bishop’s apart is that we’re independently owned… the last of our kind. I can’t do that.”
“Then you need an investor,” Collier said.
Nathan did laugh at that. “And who is going to invest in Bishop’s, Norris?”
Collier grinned. “Are you forgetting who my uncle is?”
Nathan stopped laughing. He hadn’t forgotten. But the man in question was shrewd. Incredibly so. “Bruxton is willing to invest in Bishop’s?”
“Not so fast. Bruxton is willing to consider investing in your store… but you have to present him with a plan. A damn good one. Old connection or not, he won’t put a penny in unless he thinks he’ll make it back with interest. You’ve got till Monday to come up with a rough idea. If he likes it, then you’ll talk money.”
“Three days? You’re serious?”
Collier nodded. “Dead serious. Just an idea. No budget, no prospectus, just some hook that we can use. Tell me you’ve got something… please. I went to bat for you with him.”
“I will have,” Nathan said. “Whatever it takes, I will have something for him by then. Thank you, Collier. You’re a damn good lawyer and a better friend than I deserve.”
Norris waved his hand. “Don’t get sentimental on me now. I can’t take it. Get your report and get the hell out of here. I’ll see you at the New Year’s Eve party.”
Nathan rose and grabbed the file folder from the desk. “Yeah. New Year’s Eve.” If he didn’t come up with a plan before then, he wouldn’t be in any mood to celebrate.
1
Nathan looked at the stack of paperwork on his desk and ran a hand through his dark hair. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d worked through the night, but it would be the first time he’d worked through the night on Christmas Eve. There weren’t enough hours in the day to keep up with it all, not when there were a dozen of Elizabeast’s messes cropping up daily that left him shaking his head at just how incompetent she’d truly been. A heavy sigh escaped him. He wouldn’t think about her. Not now. Not ever. His wicked stepmother was now very much part of the past. And maybe, just maybe, while the rest of the world was off celebrating, he’d have a chance to catch up on the day to day stuff so he could start working on the plan for his potential investor.
It had been a hellish day. After his meeting with Collier, he’d discovered that his phone was missing. His best guess was that it had fallen out of his pocket during his run in with Miss Holly Merriweather in the stairwell that morning. He’d checked with lost and found, but if anyone had discovered it they hadn’t turned it in yet. He’d been so busy he hadn’t even had lunch yet, and now it was almost six, the store was set to close any minute and his work day was nowhere near done.
“Nathan, I hate to see you staying here all night again!”
The admonition came from Barbara. She’d been his father’s secretary and his grandfather’s before, and had ended her retirement to come back and work for him. Looking at her no one would ever guess she was a couple of decades past retirement age. The work she’d had done was only the best. She looked not a day over fifty, though she was a seventy if she was a day. No one knew her actual age, except for the director of human resources and there would be hell to pay if it was leaked. Still, she doted on him like a grandmother.
“I have to, Barbara,” he said apologetically. She was one of the few people who knew just how dire their circumstances were.
“But it’s Christmas!” she cried. Her tone was filled with disappointment, but none of it managed to show on her perfectly botoxed face. “You should come to the house. It’s just going to be Roger and I—well and a couple of the neighbors will be stopping by for eggnog. We’d be delighted to have you, dear.”
Nathan shuddered. Barbara’s egg nog would take the paint off the walls. It was more nog than egg, and one cup would have him passed out in a corner. She’d recently moved into a retirement community with her significant other and they were apparently the neighborhood party house. He also knew, from experience, that her idea of a few friends meant that he’d be cheek to cheek with dozens of well-heeled senior citizens in a two bedroom condo. No, thanks.
“It’s okay. I’d cramp your style anyway. There’s still a ton of work for me to catch up on.”
“Are you absolutely certain?” There was real concern in her voice. “I hate for you to be alone.”
“I won’t be. I have work, work and more work for company,” he joked. “But could you do me a favor before you go?”
She smiled rather coquettishly. Barbara’s natural state was to be flirtatious and it didn’t matter how old she was or how old the flirt-ee was. “It isn’t a favor since I do work for you.”
“Right. Since I’m going to be here all night, if they have anything left in the coffee shop, will you order me some dinner and a gallon of coffee? And tell security to skip the key turn on the gates tonight. I might be able to make it out of here by dawn.”
“Fine, but all work and no play will make you old, Nathan. You’re older than I am, I swear! When’s the last time you went on a date?”
Nathan considered the question and then gave an honest reply. “That would have been my seventh anniversary, when my wife, now ex, informed me she wanted a divorce. I don’t have time for dating, Barbara.” It was true. He’d spent the last four years battling his stepmother in every court imaginable to regain control of the family business. Lisa, his ex-wife, had blamed their failed marriage on his preoccupation with that. He didn’t know if that was true, but he didn’t necessarily discount it either. There had been problems with his marriage long before that, but it certainly hadn’t helped.
She tapped her foot impatiently. “What about Holly Merriweather at the coffee shop? You’ve been mooning for her since you came back to Bishop’s! You go there once a day and all you ever do is make calf eyes at her.”
He sat up straighter in his leather executive chair. Was he really that transparent? Being slapped with a sexual harassment suit for ogling an employee could derail everything he’d worked so hard for. Not to mention that he didn’t want to be harassing anyone. But she was pretty and there was a sweetness about her that he couldn’t help but want to experience more of. Of course, just because he wanted something didn’t mean he had to act on it. “I don’t make calf eyes at anyone. She is an attractive woman but I wasn’t mooning over her. Men don’t moon.” He ignored her answering snort of laughter.
The coffee shop in question was not much more than a kiosk on the lower floor of the building. Having it there helped to draw in lunch time traffic. It was one of the few smart business decisions his stepmother had made. People who worked in the offices that surrounded the store could come in on their lunch break, grab a bite and do their shopping. It had helped to increase foot traffic immensely. Unfortunately, she hadn’t optimized the space around it with things that people might purchase on impulse or that were so eye catching they’d want to browse. No. She’d put small appliances there. And last time he checked, the number of people who got excited about toasters was pretty slim.
Of course, when he was on the first floor, he only had eyes for Holly and that was a big problem. With the time crunch he was now under, she was a distraction he couldn’t afford. And the truth was, he didn’t know a thing about her other than what she looked like and that she seemed nice. She’d been working for Bishop’s for ages, longer than he had been. It had been just over a month since he’d stepped into the shoes recently vacated by his beast of a stepmother and they had come with all sorts of complications. Holly, and her soft, shy smile that stirred urges in him he’d thought long buried, were something he needed to avoid
, if he could just find the willpower. “I have a business to run, Barbara—No, I have a business to resurrect. Relationships will just have to wait.”
“You don’t need a relationship, Nathan. You need to get laid!”
Hearing his nearly seventy year old secretary, a woman who was like a surrogate grandmother to him, utter those words made him cringe. “We are not having this conversation. Just dinner and coffee, Barbara. That’s all I need. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and be safe out there. The ice storm that’s coming tonight is supposed to be the worst the city has seen in decades. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”
Nathan felt her glaring at him, but he refused to take the bait. Had he bothered to look up, he would have seen the devilish gleam enter her eyes, he would have noted the brisk purpose in her stride as she walked back to her desk. Instead, he stared at a column of numbers on the screen in front of him, and focused on how to save his family business even though there wasn’t a family to leave it to anymore.
* * *
Holly gave the counter one last wipe. Satisfied that it was as clean as humanly possible, she stepped back to survey her handiwork. It had been a long day, fraught with harried shoppers who probably did not need the caffeine her beverages provided. Looking at her tip jar, she sighed. Apparently the giving season did not extend to baristas who made a mean turkey and cranberry sandwich. Her mood wasn’t improved by the fact that Kurt Bedwell was still lingering, watching her like a hawk until it made her skin crawl.
“Holly, dearest, I’m so sorry, but Mr. Bishop is going to be working through the night. Is there anyway you could whip something up for him?”
Making Merry: A Christmas Romance Page 1