Fairytale Christmas with the Millionaire

by Jennifer Faye

  “Hurry up.” Her manager, Sally, softened the order with a smile. “It’s going to be a busy day.”

  “How can you tell?” Alina asked.

  “When you’ve been working here as long as I have, you can feel it in your bones.”

  Alina arched a brow at Sally. She didn’t believe her. There was more to the woman’s reliable fortune-telling than feeling it in her bones. The woman definitely had a sixth sense about her.

  Sally leaned in and said conspiratorially, “There are going to be flurries all day. No accumulation but enough to put people in the holiday spirit. They’ll be out and about trying to put a dent in their Christmas shopping. Mark my words.”

  “I believe you.” And with that Alina tied her apron, not having time to worry about the wrinkles.

  The restaurant wasn’t overly busy. The early breakfast crowd had moved on. But with this being the holiday season, shoppers would stop by the café off and on all day, in between finding just the right gift for that special someone in their life.

  Not that Alina would know about that as her last boyfriend had broken up with her after just six months together. When the former building manager quit and moved to Florida where the winters were so much warmer, she’d taken on the building manager position to help pay off her credit card bills. But having two jobs took up a lot of time. These days she never had time in her busy schedule to go out on dates. She couldn’t blame her ex for breaking up with her. When she wasn’t working at the restaurant, she was on call to help the Stirling residents with all of their problems. Some she could help with, others she had to call in professionals.

  Alina had just turned in an order when Sally walked up to her. “I have someone at one of my tables requesting you. At least I think it’s you he wants.”

  Alina’s brows drew together as she smiled at her friend. “You think?”

  Sally shrugged. “Thought you’d want to check him out since he’s awfully cute and he isn’t wearing a ring.”

  “Let me guess. If you didn’t have your own cute husband waiting for you at home, you would have kept him to yourself?”

  Sally’s smile widened. “How’d you guess?”

  Alina shook her head. “I don’t need you setting me up. I’m fine on my own. I promise.”

  “I’m not setting you up.” Sally’s expression was perfectly serious. “This guy was asking for Alan Martin. He said he was told he could find you here.”

  “Alan? Seriously?” A lot of people messed up her name but this was really bad. She sighed. “Okay. I’ll see what he wants.”

  Sally pointed her in the direction of a table near the front of the restaurant. Alina wondered what this man wanted. She hoped it wasn’t some sort of problem. She didn’t need any more problems. She was up to her chin in them.

  Her steps were quick. Her orders would be up in a few minutes. And she wasn’t going to serve up food that had dried out under the warmer. She wouldn’t want to eat food that had been sitting too long and she wouldn’t do that to someone else.

  With “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” playing in the background, Alina approached the table by the big windows overlooking the busy sidewalk. The man had his head down as he read the menu. It gave her a moment to study him. His hair was dark and cut short. Every strand appeared to be in place. He wore a dark suit. It looked expensive.

  “Excuse me,” she said. “You asked for me.”

  When he lifted his head, his gaze met hers. Her heart jolted in recognition. She would know those brown eyes anywhere. They were the same ones she’d stared into that very morning in the lobby of her building.

  His dark brows drew together as unspoken questions flashed in his eyes. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one to remember their run-in. But why had he followed her here? Was he some sort of stalker? Worry sent her pulse racing.

  “You. You’re the woman from the building this morning.” He set aside the menu.

  “And you’re the man who stood there eavesdropping.”

  “I did not. I was politely waiting to ask a question.”

  “If you say so. Still, you could have cleared your throat or said something.” The man’s gaze grew darker. Good. Let him be angry. She didn’t like to be spied upon and she didn’t have time to waste. “I have to get back to work.”

  “But where is Alan?”

  “It’s Alina. And I’m standing right here, but not for much longer.” Her brain said to turn around and walk away, but her feet refused to move.

  “Wait.” Confusion showed in his eyes. “That can’t be right.” He reached in his pocket and withdrew a slip of paper. “I’m looking for Al or Alan Martin. He’s the building manager at the Stirling Apartments on Holly Lane.”

  “I’m the building manager.”

  The man stared at her for a moment as though trying to figure out if he believed her or not. “Can I ask you a question?”

  She shrugged. “You can but it doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

  A smile lit up his face, making him downright gorgeous. The breath hitched in her lungs. For a second, she forgot she’d been irritated with him. She took a moment to really notice him. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit with a brilliant blue dress shirt sans the tie. The top button was undone, revealing a silver chain around his neck. Interesting. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to give him another chance.

  Her gaze rose, taking in a squared jaw that was clean-shaven, until finally she met his dark gaze. She could sense he was quite observant, and right now, he was studying her. What was he seeing in her? And why was he interested in her?

  Was he planning to ask her out? A bubble of laughter rose up in her throat. She swallowed hard. This man could easily grace the glossy pages of any magazine—then again, perhaps he already did. Either way, there was no way he’d be interested in plain old her—the memory of her stepmother’s insults still lingered in the back of her mind.

  “What is the deal with this place?” he asked.

  She wasn’t sure she understood. “Excuse me?”

  “The restaurant, is it really called the Christmas Café?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes widened. “You mean all year-round?”

  She nodded and smiled. “In here, it’s Christmas year-round.”

  “Even in the summer, it’s decorated for Christmas?”

  “Well, Santa and his buddies do like to celebrate other holidays so they put up valentines, shamrocks, jack o’lanterns, and in the summer, Santa breaks out his board shorts and surfboard.”

  If it was possible, the man’s eyes widened even further. “Seriously?” When she nodded again, he said, “That’s a lot of Christmas.”

  “I take it you’re not a fan of the holiday.”

  “No.” There was no hesitation in his very firm answer.

  What in the world had made him so grinchy? But she stopped herself from asking. She didn’t have time to get to know this man, no matter how cute she might find him or how curious she was to know the man behind those dark, mysterious eyes.

  “I really need to get back to work,” she said. “Do you want to order?”

  “In a moment, but first I need to speak with you about the apartment building.”

  “Listen, if you’re looking for an apartment to rent, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

  “Why’s that?” His brown eyes sparked with interest.

  “Because some company is trying to force out all of the tenants.”

  “Trying to?”

  She shrugged. “They’ve sent notices but the fight isn’t over. In fact, it’s just beginning.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Her gaze narrowed in on him. “Why all of the questions? Are you a reporter or something?”

  At first, the thought alarmed her. But as she rolled it around in her mind, she warmed up to the possibilities. I
n fact, the idea of relaying her story to the press became downright appealing. Why hadn’t she thought of it a long time ago?

  “I’m not a reporter.”

  “You’re not?” Disappointment assailed her. She made a mental note to contact a reporter. “Then what’s with all of the questions about the apartment building?”

  “I’m the new owner.”

  What? Surely she hadn’t heard him correctly. Her gaze searched his. He seemed to be taking a sort of satisfaction in being able to catch her off guard. It wouldn’t happen again.

  * * *

  Was it really that surprising?

  Graham watched as Alina gaped at him. He hadn’t intended to spring a surprise attack. In fact, he’d been expecting her to recognize him. Perhaps he’d done too good of a job ducking the press since taking over as CEO. The truth was that he’d never wanted to live a public life, not like his father, who made the news regularly.

  His father had thought the more press coverage he received, the greater the confirmation of his success—his company’s success. And Graham’s mother, well, she would have gone along with most anything that would make his father happy. And his father had only been happy when his company was on top of the business world, when his son was on top of his class, when their family’s name was on top of the headlines. Second place wasn’t good enough.

  “You can’t be Graham Toliver,” she said. “He’s much older. I know. I’ve seen the pictures.”

  “That was my father, Graham Toliver II. I’m Graham Toliver III.” As the light of dawning settled upon her, he hoped they could get down to business. “Could you sit down so we can talk?”

  She shook her head. “I’m working.”

  “This shouldn’t take long. I’d like to make you an offer.”

  She opened her mouth, presumably to refuse to speak with him. But then she pressed her lips together as though rolling the thought around in her mind before deciding. “I’m listening.”

  “Alina.” A server rushed up to them, interrupting before Graham could respond. Her name tag said her name was Sally. “Are you available on Thursday? We just received a big reservation and we could use more help.”

  “I... I can’t. I have work at the building to do.”

  “Please, Alina,” Sally said. “You know how much these big groups tip. It’ll really help you if that jerk kicks you out of your home.”

  Color rushed to Alina’s cheeks. She didn’t say anything for the moment. “Let me think about it. Can I let you know?”

  “I’ll mark you down. If it doesn’t work out, you can let me know tomorrow.”

  This was the first time Graham had a chance to visualize the Stirling residents as flesh and blood and not merely as numbers on a spreadsheet. He thought she’d at least be appreciative of the extra money he was offering—money his company didn’t have to hand out.

  Alina acted as though he was kicking them to the curb with nothing but their belongings. He’d made them a fair offer to move. And then he’d upped that offer if they moved sooner. In fact, his board had balked at the size of the offer but that hadn’t stopped him from making it happen.

  Alina turned back to him. “I have to get back to work.”

  “I tracked you down so we could come to some sort of agreement.”

  She shook her head. “You wasted your time.”

  “I can wait, you know, until you have another break.” He had meetings all morning but they could be moved. This was more important.

  “I won’t have a break for hours. I just started my shift. And I can’t just have you sitting here all day taking up space.”

  “Then have dinner with me.” The words were out before he realized how they might sound.

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “No.”

  Ouch! His ego took a direct hit. He wasn’t used to being turned down by women. Not that he wanted to date Alina—or anyone else for that matter. He had enough issues to deal with at the office without having to figure out a relationship—something he was not good at, just ask his ex-girlfriend.

  “Wait. I didn’t mean that as in an actual date date.” He noticed the color bloom in her cheeks and he couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked. As soon as the thought came to him, he dismissed it. He refused to get distracted. “What I meant was that we could have a business dinner.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  He wasn’t going to let this go, even if it meant opening himself up to some pushback. “I thought you wanted to speak to the man who bought your building.”

  “I do,” she said quickly.

  “Good.” He smiled satisfactorily. “I’ll send a car to pick you up at six.” He got to his feet.

  “What? No.”

  “Are you saying you aren’t interested in pitching your reasons for keeping the building as is?”

  “I...uh...sure, I want to.”

  “Then this is your chance.”

  She hesitated. “Fine.”

  They exchanged phone numbers before he left.

  The truth was that he didn’t want to spend his time listening to all of her sentimental reasons why the building shouldn’t be demolished for a new high-rise to be put in its place. He’d never conducted one of these meetings himself, but he’d witnessed his father conduct them.

  His father had never been one for patience. He’d barely let the other party get a sentence or two out of their mouth before he’d shut them down. But Graham wasn’t his father. And sometimes people just needed to feel as though they’d been heard. He would keep his word and hear Alina out. That didn’t mean he would change his mind.

  CHAPTER THREE

  WHY IN THE world had she agreed?

  For the remainder of the day, Alina could think of nothing else but her upcoming date...er, business meeting with Graham. So much so that she’d messed up two orders and received a gentle reprimand from her supervisor. Then upon her return home, she learned Grace Taylor’s kitchen sink had a leak. When Alina went to work on it, she’d been distracted by thoughts of what to wear to dinner that evening. When instead of tightening the joint, she’d loosened it and ended up with water in her face. It’d startled her back to reality and she focused on the task at hand.

  Once finished with the sink she rushed back to her apartment. Having no idea what to wear to a trendy downtown restaurant, Alina texted her friend Meg. Her friend promptly showed up at her door. “I can’t believe you’re having dinner with him.”

  “It’s not dinner.” When Meg arched a disbelieving brow, Alina said, “Well, it is dinner but it’s not like you’re thinking. It’s all about business. That’s it.”

  “Uh-huh.” Meg’s tone said she didn’t believe her protests.

  “It is.” Alina ignored the way her heart raced and her heart pounded when she thought about sitting across the table from Graham and staring into his dark mesmerizing eyes as they talked. The enemy shouldn’t be so handsome. “Now what should I wear?” She held up a dark pair of jeans with a red cable-knit sweater. “What about this?”

  Meg’s brow rose high on her forehead. “Where did you say he was taking you for dinner?”

  “Um... I’m not sure. The information is on my phone.” She rushed over to her bedside table to grab her phone. “It doesn’t give the name, just an address.” She read it off.

  Meg typed it into her phone. “That’s not a restaurant. It’s an office building. And not just any office building but the renowned Diamond Building.”

  Alina frowned. Of course he’d want to meet there. After all, he was only meeting with her to discuss the sale of the Stirling Apartments. That made her decision of what to wear easy because her attire didn’t matter. There would be no dress code where she was going.

  “Good. That’s decided.” Alina clutched the jeans and sweater.

  Meg r
eached out and pulled the clothes out of Alina’s grasp. “You can’t wear that.”

  “Why not?” Alina frowned. “You just said it wasn’t a restaurant, which means I get to feel comfortable.”

  “Not if you want to impress this guy.”

  “I don’t want to impress him.”

  “Yes, you do.” Meg’s eyes implored her to be reasonable. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

  “Why would I want to impress the man responsible for taking away my home and the home of my friends?” Yes, she thought of most everyone in that apartment building as her friends, except her stepmother and two stepsisters.

  It wasn’t that she’d always disliked them. In fact, in the beginning it was quite the opposite. She thought it would be nice to have a mother figure, not that anyone would ever replace her mother, but to have two sisters would be amazing. In the end, it had been an amazing disaster.

  “Alina, listen to me. You need this guy on your side. He’s the only one that can stop the demolition of the building.”

  As much as she wanted to argue with her friend, Meg was right. The end was in sight and her options were limited. If there was going to be a Christmas miracle, it would have to come from Mr. Scrooge, er... Mr. Toliver.

  With the utmost reluctance, Alina asked, “What do you think I should wear?”

  “Let me see.” Meg rummaged through Alina’s closet.

  Hangers rattled together. There were a lot of no’s and Alina had a feeling putting her friend in charge of her attire for the evening was a mistake.

  All the while Prince laid on her bed, staring at her as though she were a traitor for getting dolled up for the enemy. Or maybe that was her own guilt. But if there was any chance of changing this guy’s mind about where he built his high-rise, she would do what was necessary for the residents of the past, those of the present and the ones of the future.

  * * *

  Alina was ready to go promptly at seven.