A Holiday Seduction: A Holiday Novella

by Tiffany Patterson

  “I know, but thanks to my crappy oven, she might not get to taste them this year.” I frown as I turn to the oven, and this time I don’t stop myself when the urge to kick it strikes.

  “Ouch! Dammit,” I squeal, remembering, thanks to the sharp pain, that I’m not wearing any shoes.

  “Hey, hey, hey, I don’t think breaking shit is going to help anything.”

  “It’ll help me release my anger,” I reply.

  “Yeah? And how’s your foot feeling after that kick?”

  I put my hands on my hips. “I have two feet, ya know. The oven might’ve won that round, but that won’t stop me from putting my other foot up your ass if you continue mocking me.”

  Neil throws his head back and laughs, utterly unaffected by my threat. His laugh and presence are so damn effusive that they flood my senses, turning the heat down on my frustration and annoyance.

  “Calm down there, ninja warrior. What if I lent you my kitchen to bake?”

  I blink. “Really?”

  “Why wouldn’t I open my home and kitchen to my woman when she needs it the most?” he asks as if it’s the most sensible thing in the world.

  “I love you,” I blurt out.

  Neil stiffens, but his grip around my waist tightens. I hold my breath, awaiting his response. A million thoughts race through my mind. Is it too soon? Of course it is. We’ve been dating for what? Almost two months? Indeed, that’s too soon for the admission of love. Add to that the drama with my family. It’s been a little over a week since we returned from the mountains and I still haven’t spoken to my parents.

  My mother hasn’t called or stopped by, and I haven’t done so either. Now, I’m standing in my kitchen, my oven on the fritz during the busiest time of year, and a guy I just admitted to loving after eight weeks of dating.

  “I love you, too,” he finally says.

  Air whooshes from my lungs, and I feel as if my heart starts beating again. “Good. I thought I was going to have to bury your body in the woods somewhere to live down this embarrassment if you didn’t say it back.”

  Neil’s laughter is infections. “Baby, that’s the second time in five minutes that you’ve threatened me.”

  I give him a lopsided grin. “What’s your point?”

  “My point is,” he growls, pulling me tightly into his firm body, “that you’re starting to turn me on.”

  I wiggle my eyebrows. “Not seeing a problem there.”

  He chuckles some more before placing a kiss to the side of my neck. “It is when I have to leave in five minutes if I’m going to make it to work on time.”

  Frowning, I say, “Details.” I roll my eyes at the reminder that we both still have day jobs that we need to get to.

  “Of course, if you owned and worked at that bakery, you could make your own hours. Also, it would alleviate the trouble of you having to deal with this unreliable oven.”

  I shake my head. “I knew eventually we’d end up back here.”

  “You know I’m going to keep pushing you until you to leap. You’re a great teacher, but deep down, it’s not your calling. What you’re passionate about are those.”

  He dips his head to the counter behind me, where one batch of finished cookies are sitting along with the ingredients for another cookie dough I’ll be whipping up before I leave so that I can finish cooking them after work.

  “You still have the number of that owner you were talking about?” Truthfully, I hadn’t stopped thinking about the shop that Neil showed me weeks ago. I ran the numbers, and unbeknownst to him, stopped by a local bank to inquire about a business loan.

  “Here it is,” he says, whipping out a business card from his wallet. “His name’s Bernie Ringwald. He’s expecting your call.”

  I glance up at Neil. He shrugs. “I knew you’d come around eventually. I put a bug in his ear to let him know what you were thinking about for his space. According to him, he can convert the space into a bakery easily. You’d have your industrial oven.”

  Frowning, I return my gaze to the white card with black lettering. Twirling the card in my hands, I say, “I’ve wanted this for so long.” It was a secret wish of mine. A fantasy that I only shared with Dierdre and Jackie a few years ago.

  “You’re going to make it happen. It’ll be a Christmas miracle.”

  I laugh along with Neil. “Doubtful that it’ll be open before Christmas, which is only three weeks away.”

  “Christmas 2021, then.”

  My belly fills with butterflies. The kind you get when something huge, exciting, and unbelievable is about to happen. The same butterflies I felt that morning I stood over Dierdre’s grave and looked directly into Neil’s eyes. These are my body’s signal that something earth shifting is about to change.

  “Thank you.”

  “There’s nothing to thank me for, baby.” He leans down, taking hold of my lips, kissing me so deeply, I feel it in the soles of my feet. He pulls back. “Just keep the cookies coming … and I’m not referring to the kind you whip up in the kitchen.” He lets his gaze travel down the length of my body, pausing at the apex of my thighs before casting upward to lock gazes with me again.

  Laughing, I playfully push him away. “Go to work.”

  He gives me a mock salute. “On my way. I’ll give you a call before you go to bed tonight.”

  My stomach drops a little, disappointed that I won’t be seeing Neil for the rest of the day. Tuesdays and Thursdays are the days when he attends his meetings after work. After the sessions, he spends his time working with guys from his group. The group he attends is separate from the work he does at McKenna Rehab. We rarely spend a Tuesday or Thursday evening together, but he always calls me once he gets home for the night.

  “Okay.”

  “Oh, wait, you’ll need to get into my place for the oven, right?” He begins rooting around in his pocket, pulling out his keys.

  “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I’m going to let it rest for the day and then see how it does once I get home from work.”

  “Cool, but in case it doesn’t, take my spare key.” He takes his door key off the chain, handing it to me.

  “This isn’t your spare,” I say, noting that this key is from his main keychain.

  “My spare’s in the car. I’ll use that if I need to, but if you’re there, I won’t need a key. The access code to the front door is 122410.” He writes it down on the notepad I have hanging on my fridge to remind me of ingredients to get from the store.

  “Got it. Thank you.”

  He kisses me before heading out.

  I stare down at the key and smile, but the uncomfortable feeling of getting too happy bubbles up. My brain reminds me of the drama with my mother and how things feel as if they’re going too good to be true with Neil.

  “Neil, I truly believe this venture is going to work out for both of our companies,” Larry says.

  I stare at him from across the conference room. He has a broad smile on his face, and I can tell he means to be disarming, but that only makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I don’t trust anyone who’s trying to disarm me, and I’ve worked with every number of con artists and liars to know when one’s trying to bullshit me. That’s the thing about working with addicts—hell, about being one myself—we lie so much it feels like telling lies and inventing tales is a second language.

  It also makes it easier to sniff out a liar when you’re sitting across the table from one. I would’ve picked up on the bullshit sooner if I weren’t busy falling in love.

  “Is that right, Larry?” I sit forward, clasping my fingers together. “And what makes you so certain of this?”

  He frowns, a wrinkle appearing between his dark eyebrows. “From everything I’ve shown you. The projects over the next five years look excellent. We’re talking exponential growth, especially if we’re able to move quickly on opening your clinics in Appalachia.”

  My gut twists in anger. “You do realize that that exponential growth you’re
so looking forward to has lives attached to it, right? We earn money when people come into our clinics, sure, but that means more people are out there, strung out on booze and drugs.”

  “I’m aware of this, Neil. We’ve been over this many times before.”

  “Then, you should know it doesn’t make me all giddy inside to see you grinning from ear to ear about the growth we can expect.”

  “I understand that, but—”

  “Do you know what would make me happy? To have McKenna Rehab no longer necessary.”

  “What?”

  I lean in farther on my elbows. “See? You and I have two very different end goals. I want to make it so there is no longer a need for rehabs across the country. That people no longer feel the need to turn to drugs and alcohol to make it through daily life. I loathe seeing repeat clients.”

  “I understand your position, Neil. Really, I do.”

  “I don’t believe you do, which is fine. And since the board has given me the clearance to make this decision on my own, I’m going to have to turn this deal down.”

  As the words leave my mouth, I feel the sense of relief that lets you know you’ve made the right decision. The decision I should’ve made weeks ago, but didn’t. I’d been holding out hope that this deal really would garner the type of service for all of McKenna’s clients that I’d been looking for. The truth is, however, deep down, I knew this wasn’t the right move.

  Unlike Waldrich, I place our clients and patients above profits. Our business models aren’t compatible.

  “Neil, this is a mistake. I ask that you reconsider your position.” He pauses when I shake my head adamantly.

  I rise from my chair. “I would apologize for all of the back and forth over the past few months, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of business for you. Tens of other rehabs would love to get into bed with you.” I stop, staring at him sternly. “McKenna isn’t one of them.”

  Stepping back, I wait for him to get out of his seat, as it’s more than apparent that this meeting is over.

  “I’ll have my assistant walk you out. I have a staff meeting in a few minutes,” I say over my shoulder as I stride down the hall to my office.

  Entering my office, I feel a weight lifted off of me. In the beginning, this deal seemed like the right thing to do. After McKenna’s initial expansion a few years ago, I knew we’d need to partner with a larger healthcare firm to make our rehabs even more accessible for those who either didn’t have insurance or their insurance companies wouldn’t pay for rehab. Waldrich seemed like a fix to this issue. But the more I dug into Waldrich’s business dealings, the uneasier I grew.

  I hired a PI to do some investigation. He visited a few other rehab facilities that Waldrich operated, and as I suspected, his findings weren’t ideal. That was what sealed the deal for me. I reported to the board my conclusions, and they agreed to my decision to turn down the contract, despite the potential millions it could’ve infused into our budget.

  As I stare out of my window, letting out a breath, the relief I initially felt begins to settle. My mind starts conjuring up another potential problem. A low burning in my gut tells me this won’t be the last time I hear from Larry or the company he works for.

  Chapter 14

  “Damn, how the hell did I get so lucky?” Neil growls close to my ear, his hand tightening around mine as he helps me out of the car.

  I swat at him, pushing him away. “You’re going to wrinkle my dress if you keep that up,” I warn. We’re in the middle of dropping Neil’s car off to the valet outside of the venue where McKenna Rehab is having their annual holiday party. It’s a big deal as it helps the institution raise a lot of money in a single night for the company.

  “We could go back to my place, and you take the entire thing off,” he says in my ear.

  My panties become soaked from his proposal, but I shake my head. “I did not straighten my hair and do these pin curls for nothing,” I remind him as I pat the side of my hair that’s in a tight updo, with a few curls falling to one side.

  “You are so damn beautiful,” he says for probably the tenth time of the night.

  “Thank you.” I lift my head, upturning my lips to allow him the kiss he moves in for.

  “Guess I’ll have to wait for the end of the night for more of those.”

  “I guess you will. Do you see how great my makeup looks? Don’t you dare try to smudge it before our night’s over.”

  He laughs, and my stomach muscles tighten. The truth is, I wouldn’t mind heading back to Neil’s place. Since Thanksgiving, we’ve been to so many holiday parties. I can barely keep count of what number this one is. Yet, I know this is the one that means the most to him.

  While he says he doesn’t care too much for schmoozing with others just to get financial support for his rehabs, he’s very good at it. I’ve watched him over the past few weeks at the various holiday parties and dinners we’ve attended together. He has a way with people.

  The same charisma that attracted me to him from the very beginning draws others to him, making them want to give to his cause. And his passion for what he does is second to none. People can’t help but be inspired to open their wallets and give.

  “How did the latest batch of walnut supreme cookies turn out?” he inquires as we stroll into the double doors of the venue.

  “Wow.”

  The venue is stunning. Neil told me the location usually hosts weddings, charity events, and other big-ticket events. For tonight’s holiday party, they’ve outdone themselves, at least by my standards. A pink and white Christmas theme adorns the entranceway. There have to be at least ten pink Christmas trees lining the hallway leading to the ballroom area where most of the guests are.

  “What was your question?” I ask, still looking around at the beautifully decorated venue. No matter how many times I see it or experience it year after year, there’s just something about Christmas and holiday decorations that delights me from the inside out. Add to that the feeling of falling in love with the man who has his hand gripped firmly around mine, and I’m on cloud nine.

  “The walnut cookies you were trying out.”

  “Oh.” I turn to look at him. “They came out great. My oven is still misbehaving though, and the super keeps saying he’ll get around to it, but it’s taking forever. Which has me concerned.”

  “You’ve been able to get most of your orders out, right?”

  I nod. “Yeah, but I always tend to get a few last-minute orders the week before Christmas. I could shut down the order option on my site. But …”

  “You don’t want to do that,” he says, finishing my sentence for me.

  “I don’t.”

  “Then, you can use my oven until your super gets off his ass. Hell, why even go back to your place?”

  I turn to him. Unsurprisingly, he’s staring directly at me. I don’t see any laughter in his gaze.

  “Neil—” I start but am interrupted.

  “Son,” a deep, male voice calls.

  Instantly, I recognize Neil’s father’s voice. We turn to find both of his smiling parents approaching us. As usual, Mrs. McKenna has a twinkle in her eye as she eyes Neil and then me.

  “Looks like it’s going to be another successful holiday event,” his father greets, extending his hand for Neil to shake.

  “Undoubtedly. We’ve invited all the usuals plus a few more, who’re willing to open up their wallets and give to McKenna Rehab,” Neil responds. “Mom,” he greets, taking her into their usual hug.

  Mrs. McKenna turns her attention to me. “You look lovely this evening, Desiree.”

  “Thank you,” I say as she pulls me into a hug. I warmly receive the embrace. I’ve met Neil’s parents on several occasions now since the holiday party at the museum. We’ve even gone out to dinner together. They’re always warm and even charming. I recall Neil telling me about how he nearly destroyed his relationship with his parents when drinking heavily and getting into all types of trouble.

 
; There’d been two years in which they refused to speak to him, even after he’d gotten sober. But to see them now, one would never know there was a rift so deep between them at one point.

  Sighing, I wonder what could’ve happened between my parents and my sister had she been able to beat her addiction.

  “Are you ready?” Neil questions, squeezing my hand, bringing me back to the present.

  Smiling, I look up at him. “For your big night? Absolutely,” I reply, infusing my voice with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

  He gives me a warm smile before proceeding into the beautifully decorated ballroom. The adornments inside of the main party area make the outside decorations look like child’s play. There appear to be actual crystals hanging from the ceiling, emulating snowflakes. Christmas trees aligned the walls of the room, each with gift-wrapped presents underneath them.

  “Are those real?” I question, pointing in the direction of the gifts.

  He nodded. “They’re donations to a local charity that gives to children from underserved schools and communities.”

  I press my hand to my chest, my heart warming. While the school I teach at is in a pretty middle-class neighborhood, some students of mine can use that type of charity.

  “There’re some people I want to introduce you to,” he says before guiding us toward a group of three—two men and one woman.

  They’re smiling wide as soon as Neil approaches. He introduces me as his girlfriend, which warms every cell in my body. It’s not the first time he’s used that title when introducing me, but it warms me every time.

  These are members of the McKenna Rehab board; they help ensure the direction of McKenna falls in line with its mission statement and purpose. The three come across as having a sincere interest in the facility succeeding beyond merely making a profit. As Neil introduces me to more and more of his colleagues and members of the board, I start to realize something significant about this man.

  Suddenly, I find myself swept up into Neil’s arms. We begin swaying to Michael Bublé’s version of “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas”.