“What is it?” Mitch swiveled around to face the door, checking his phone. “Where’s the event planner?”
“Yeah, that’s part of the problem,” Rose said with a grimace. Mitch swiped through his phone, multi-tasking as usual. He pulled up the weather app while she spoke. “The head planner was supposed to be here for your one o’clock, but I’ve just received word that she quit.”
Mitch blinked, her news hitting him just as awkwardly as the weather report in front of his eyes. There was a huge snowstorm rolling in, which the sunny but cold day outside hardly betrayed. “What?”
“One of her assistants just showed up to break the news. Apparently there was some sort of family emergency, and—”
“Send her in.” Mitch cleared his throat, tapping his pen against the desk. He didn’t have time to quibble over details. He just had to keep moving on the planning, and stat. He helped with the planning every year—after all, the famous Christmas bash needed a personal Denton touch. But this year? It needed more than a touch. It needed a sensual caress. He wouldn’t let this sudden setback be the reason the bash wasn’t better than ever.
Rose sidled out of the office, and a moment later she reappeared with a woman in tow. This had to be the event planning assistant, but it took Mitch a moment to remember who was joining him and why. The curvy brunette entering his office stole his breath and his thoughts. His pen paused mid-tap as he took her in. There were normal things about her: the smart button-down tucked into high-waisted black pants and the professional and almost plastic smile that he recognized too well in his line of work. But there was something about her face. The sharp nose and the high cheekbones that would have caught his eye in the middle of Times Square on New Year’s Eve.
“This is Jules Cardwell,” Rose said, but her voice sounded a million miles away. Mitch pushed to standing without even realizing, his hand shooting out to grip Jules’s. He’d been in a million business deals before and had perfected the art of not showing that his feathers were ruffled. Good thing, too, because his heart thumped a mile a minute in front of this woman.
“Great to meet you.” He held her gaze for maybe a second too long.
Jules narrowed her eyes slightly as she shook his hand. Like she was on to him. “Likewise.”
“Let’s hear about the sudden change of plans,” Mitch said, clearing his throat again. Rose excused herself, leaving the two of them alone in his spacious office. As Jules took her seat, Mitch forced himself to focus on anything other than her perfectly profiled nose or heart-shaped face. Had she always worked with the event planning team? He certainly didn’t remember this woman wandering the halls in years past.
“Well, as your secretary probably mentioned, my boss took an unexpected…leave of absence.” Jules wet her perfectly pink and plump bottom lip before continuing. “Since I was the assistant planner at Big Apple Events, it was decided that I would take her place for her current projects. I’ve assisted on previous Denton events, so I’m already well-versed in your brand.”
Mitch sighed, leaning back into his chair. “But we’d been working with Rhonda for years.”
“I know. A family emergency has her tied up for the time being. I’m not even sure if she’ll be returning.”
Mitch tapped his pen against the desk again, his father’s text coming back to mind. “We need this party to be the biggest and the best it’s ever been. There’s a lot riding on that this year. There will be pressure. Are you prepared to handle that?”
Jules didn’t even flinch. “Of course. I’ve assisted on events all around the city, with many well-known names and even larger businesses. I have full confidence that I’ll be able to pull this off as well as Rhonda would.” She flashed a smile, and then reached down for the briefcase she’d brought in with her. “I brought along some concepts for the display this year—just preliminary stuff, as a launch pad for refining the ideas further. Rhonda had already set some things in motion, like the Children of the World event, where she already placed a big order for the toys. But some things, it looks like she didn’t make much progress at all.”
Mitch watched with interest as Jules slid out some papers. Every slender finger held a ring of some sort, whether big and gaudy or skinny and silver. He realized he had been staring at the graceful movements of her hands during her entire spiel about the party.
“To celebrate all the different ways people celebrate Christmas,” she went on. “You know—to make it a really inclusive event. Something that people walk away from with a ‘wow’ sensation, probably even tell their friends and family about afterward. If they haven’t been live streaming the whole thing already.”
Mitch hefted with a laugh. “I can tell you’ve been doing some preparing already.” He was impressed as much by the words coming out of her mouth as the heavy curve under her blouse. Mitch knew what he liked, and it was this type of gorgeous—articulate, brunette, and curvy. “But you should know, this party is no easy feat. I was expecting to meet with the old planner today and have her tell me that half the prep work was done already.”
Jules nibbled on her bottom lip. “Right. Maybe we can do a walk-through together of the space to make sure we’re on the same page. Then I can go into overdrive to get caught up and on schedule.”
Mitch nodded, doubt flickering through him. As pretty as she was, Jules was an untested event planner.
He didn’t just need someone good—he needed someone to work magic.
This party would serve as the backdrop to him taking over the company, and it needed to be perfect.
2
Jules felt every click of her heels against the tile floor of the lobby as she walked at Mitch Denton’s side.
Every second spent in his imposing presence wound her tighter and needier.
It wasn’t just that he was taller than her. He had to be around six-one, and he towered over her despite her four-inch heels. No, it must have been the swagger in his step. The way his broad shoulders swayed as they strutted through the main floor. He walked like he owned the place—because he literally did.
But he wasn’t an asshole about it. When employees stopped with questions, he paused thoughtfully before answering. He had the steel face of a decision maker, but none of the snark or sarcasm of a cynic.
Still, managing the Denton account for her first job as head planner was enough to bring on the jitters. Mitch had made it more than clear—this event needed to come together seamlessly. If it didn’t, it would be an embarrassment for his family and probably cost her her job.
“From what I understand,” Jules began, as they came upon a makeshift tent in the hotel’s conference area, which was a series of vast, interconnected rooms, “this is about the extent of what Rhonda had been able to get done.” She sighed, clutching her folder to her chest as she looked at the underwhelming staging area.
This conference room would turn into the entry point for the gala, and this whole, expansive area would become a bustling arena of hors d’oeuvres, champagne flutes, and quite possibly a photo op with a Santa with a manbun if Mitch would allow it. She had a whole list of proposed concepts and attention-grabbing ideas to implement, from the modern Santa photo session to the #MerryDentmas hashtag for social media.
Jules knew how to be over the top. She just didn’t want to go so far that she spun off into outer space. The next phase of her career was riding on knocking this one out of the park.
“We do have the manger scene already set up,” Mitch said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Oh, really?” Jules perked up. At least that was one thing she could cross off her list. “I didn’t see it.”
“They moved it this year—it’s right inside the main doors.” Mitch led the way back through the lobby, past the huge—and real—Christmas tree, still naked and unadorned. Workers were just beginning to unload the boxes of decorations and ornaments.
“It’s really starting to feel like Christmas in here,” Jules chirped. This was her favorite time of y
ear, without exception. The decorations, the crisp New York mornings, the flurries and the snowstorms—she loved all of it.
Something about Mitch at her side made her feel a little dreamy too. He had presence. Strong and tall and safe—not to mention drop-dead gorgeous. His dirty-blond hair looked expertly styled yet somehow like he’d spent most of the morning tugging at the front of it. A Manhattan socialite wrapped up in a multimillionaire—hell, probably billionaire—package.
Exactly the sort of man her mother had always warned her about.
“We’re trying,” Mitch said, sending her what looked like a genuine smile. “This was always my mom’s favorite time of year, so we try to go big.”
“Go big or go home,” she joked, without even meaning to. On the inside, she grimaced—what a dumb thing to say! But Mitch laughed.
“Exactly. Sort of our ethos around here. Which would explain why we never go home.”
Jules smiled to herself, the crisp winter air hitting her in a whoosh when the lobby doors opened. Just inside the front door sat the nativity scene, looking out the huge window at the busy NYC sidewalk. Mitch strode quickly toward the creche, which featured a miniature shed and figurines that came up to her hips.
“This is our tried and true decoration,” Mitch said. “It’s always the first thing to go up. Nothing else can happen until the nativity is out.”
Jules peered down at the Mary and Joseph statues. She tilted her head, examining Baby Jesus.
“You always use these statues?” Something about Jesus seemed very…lifelike.
“Yes. Since probably the early eighties. Before I was even born.”
Jules’ chest tightened as she knelt. She could have sworn Jesus had moved. “This baby looks very realistic.”
“Does it?” Mitch stepped closer, and the two of them leaned forward to examine the scene. “I’ve never really noticed.”
The blankets around Baby Jesus shifted.
And then his arm moved.
Jules gasped. “I think that’s a real baby in there.” She surged forward, feeling inside the wooden manger. Her stomach sank to her feet when her fingertips connected with a soft, warm body. “Oh my god.”
“Are you kidding?” Mitch asked. She scooped up the baby easily. The poor thing couldn’t have weighed more than fifteen pounds, which meant this was an infant. A young infant. She removed the baby from the wool blanket that had been disguising its presence and found a note pinned to the baby’s jacket.
I’m sorry. I just can’t do this anymore. Please help her find a better life and give her a better Christmas than I ever could.
Emotion clamped Jules’s throat, and she looked up at Mitch. His blue eyes were wide with disbelief.
“Mitch…” Her voice came out a hiss.
She held the baby close in her arms, automatically starting a slow sway. Even though she’d worked as a nanny in her early twenties, she never cared for newborns or infants. She knew how to hold them and could change a diaper if she had to. But what about this? What about now?
She’d never discovered an abandoned infant before.
“Let’s go someplace warm,” Mitch said, urging her deeper into the lobby. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as he ushered them through the milling guests, and the small gesture helped dissolve some of her confusion. His touch alone was grounding enough to find a path forward.
Heat blasted over them as they re-entered the hotel. Mitch guided her toward a small alcove overlooking a central courtyard, which was dappled with evergreen bushes. Outside, the sky threatened storms with a strange, cobalt color. Jules swallowed hard, looking down at the sleeping baby in her arms.
“What should we do?” she asked, her voice sticking to her throat.
Mitch wet his bottom lip, his icy blue gaze sweeping up to meet hers. She could already see the answer written in his eyes.
“We’ll figure this out,” he said in a low voice, even though his eyes said, I have no clue. “Just give me a second.”
3
The hustle and bustle of the lobby had ratcheted up to a commotion. And it wasn’t because of the baby—nobody else knew or had noticed that they’d discovered a real live infant abandoned in the manger out front. Mitch’s head spun as he guided her to sit down with the baby in her arms, his brain in overdrive.
There was a solution here, he just needed to figure out what it was. He searched for a staff member to recruit. Every single person was in a different state of losing their cool on a phone call, with a guest, or both at the same time.
“I’ll be right back,” Mitch said to Jules before heading toward the front desk. The air in the lobby felt pulled tight, as if it might snap at any second. He strode toward the desk but stopped as some guests nearby sighed loudly.
“I don’t think we’re going to be able to stay here, but we can’t leave either,” one of them was saying. Mitch paused, feeling the customer service side of him leap into high gear.
“Hi, I’m Mitch Denton, owner of this hotel.” He offered his hand to the frazzled looking man and his wife. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“I don’t know.” The man raked a hand through the sparse field of hairs left on his head. “We were just about to leave for the airport, but we got word that our flight was cancelled because of the snowstorm coming. We can’t keep our room for another night because it’s been booked.”
Mitch led them toward the front desk, intent on resolving this. He made sure that the first receptionist who hung up was tasked with their rebooking issue.
Which meant that it took some time before a receptionist was able to tend to him. Mitch made sure all his guests were helped before he took his turn. The customer always came first—that was the family motto. When he glanced back at Jules, her brows were drawn together as she looked down at the baby in her arms.
They needed to figure out whose baby this was, stat.
“Hey. I need to know if any of you saw any suspicious activity near the manger scene today,” Mitch said once a lull had hit the reception area.
The four ladies shook their heads.
“It’s been too busy to see much of anything, with this storm coming in,” Sara, the lead receptionist, commented.
“Rebookings galore,” another sighed.
Mitch’s stomach jolted as he glanced back at Jules and the baby. “Can someone call security for me? We have an issue that needs addressed urgently.” He hesitated over whether to raise the alarm that would surely accompany abandoned baby. Best to wait until all their bases were covered. He was confident that he and Jules could handle this in the meantime. “Send them my way ASAP. And I mean now.”
Sara nodded and picked up the phone just as another group of guests approached the front desk. Mitch hurried back to Jules and the baby. The child had just started fussing.
“Can you hold her for a second?” Jules nibbled on her lip and held the baby out. Mitch bent awkwardly to receive the precarious package, her little head feeling surprisingly limp against his arm. “Support her head. Yeah, like that. There you go. I’m going to run to the restroom and be right back.” Jules squeezed his arm before taking off, and once she had disappeared around the corner of the lobby, Mitch looked around, the weight of this situation finally hitting him.
Here he was—an expert bachelor, heir to this hotel empire—holding this baby whose only caretaker in life right now was…him.
And Jules. He hurried to remind himself that it wasn’t just him calling the shots. Jules was in this with him. Sure, they’d only been touring the hotel property in advance of the party, which granted them no parental rights over this child. But for some reason, it felt like this was their situation to handle. Stumbling upon an abandoned baby forged a sort of unifying bond. They might be strangers, but they were strangers with a baby, suddenly.
The baby started fussing harder and wriggling inside the pink blanket she was swaddled in. She didn’t look like a newborn to him—not that he had a ton of experience identifying a
child’s age, or anything to do with babies. He rocked her, shushing gently. Jules had said “her,” but he could tell she hadn’t unwrapped the blanket in the moments he’d been at the reception desk. Still, the pronoun felt right—he would have bet his hotel their foundling was a girl. Her little cheeks went pink as a scream ripped out of her. Mitch gasped, then started pacing the far wall of windows overlooking the street. Panic streaked through him—what the hell was he supposed to do with a crying baby?
He could negotiate the living hell out of a business deal and spend twelve hours in a cramped space flying halfway around the world. He could even gamble millions of dollars in a risky new venture without batting an eye.
But this baby? This wriggling little bundle was the type of challenge he had no experience with. No preparation at all.
Jules raced up to him a moment later, stroking the girl’s cheek. “What happened?”
“Nothing. She just started crying.” The baby hiccuped and then continued crying. “Doesn’t rocking help? I thought I’d rock her.”
“Maybe lift her up and pat her back,” Jules suggested. “She might have gas or something.”
Mitch lifted her carefully, trying to support her head. She dipped a little to the left, and he went rigid, propping her against his shoulder.
“Just tap her back,” Jules guided him.
Mitch patted the baby’s back like she said, and her cries turned into gurgling, which then turned into a very wet eruption.
All over his shoulder.
Jules laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. “Aww, her tummy was upset.”
Mitch stopped breathing for a moment as he craned to look at the damage. “Did she—” He paused, horrified by the milky white splash of vomit on his shoulder. A little bit even dripped down the front of his suit coat. “Did she puke on me?”
Jules rolled her lips inward, but she shook with silent laughter. “Poor thing. We should go get her cleaned up.”
Christmas with the Denton Billionaires: The Complete Series Page 11