The Perfect Holiday: A Bad Boy New Year Romance

by Mia Ford

  I laughed a little under my breath, imagining June’s face when I told her. It was too soon to tell if she’d think something like that was funny. She was so insecure, I wondered if she was the jealous type. But she’d met Marlene a handful of times by now…she had to know that I couldn’t want just any hot woman around. I was old enough that personality mattered a lot more to me, almost as much as looks had mattered when I’d been in my youth.

  When two-thirty rolled around and Keith still hadn’t shown up, I was starting to get a little pissed off. I picked up my phone and reclined back in my chair, kicking my legs up on the desk and crossing them at the ankle.

  This time, it took several minutes for someone to answer the phone.

  “Hello, this is Mr. Carner’s office. Whom may I say is calling?”

  I frowned. “Yeah, this is Thomas March, over at Steel Visions. I’m calling for Keith – we had a meeting today at two and he never showed up.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Hold on, Mr. March,” the woman replied. “Let me go ping him.”

  I sighed forcefully. “Whatever,” I mumbled.

  The woman put me on hold and I cringed at the tacky Muzak rendition of “My Heart Will Go On.”

  After what felt like an eternity, there was a series of blips and beeps in my ear. I frowned, then the line went dead.

  “What the fuck,” I grumbled. “Did that stupid cunt hang up on me or what?”

  Now I was truly irritated. I called Keith’s office back, waiting impatiently for someone to pick up.

  “Hello, this is Mr. Carner’s office. Whom may I say is calling?”

  “Yeah, this is Thomas March, I just called a few minutes ago. We got disconnected.”

  There was another long pause.

  “Don’t hang up,” I said forcefully. “I wanna talk to Keith. Patch me through. Now,” I added forcefully.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. March. But Mr. Carner doesn’t wish to speak to you at the moment.”

  I squinted. “You’re kidding me – I talked to him just a few hours ago! We made an appointment for this afternoon. Do you know who I am?”

  “Sure. You’re Mr. Thomas March, of Steel Visions.”

  “Yeah,” I grumbled. “So put me through to Keith. And tell him that this bullshit isn’t funny – I don’t like it when someone wastes my time.”

  “Sir—“

  “Shut up,” I growled. “Put me through. Now.”

  “Sir, Mr. Carner really doesn’t want to speak to you. He told me to ignore your calls.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Tell Keith I don’t have time for this bullshit,” I growled. “We’ve known each other for years and he thinks this little fucking game is funny?”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Thomas.”

  “Wait, don’t hang—“

  Click

  “Fuck!” I screamed. I threw my phone at the wall, taking satisfaction when the immaculate screen cracked in two.

  Seconds later, my door burst open. Susie was standing there, looking frightened and more alive than I’d ever seen her.

  “Mr. Thomas, is everything all right? I heard a terrible crash,” she said quickly. “What’s going on? What is the meaning of all of this?”

  I rolled my eyes and grabbed my laptop, shoving it hastily into my laptop bag. “Nothing,” I said. “I mean, I’m fine. I’m going home for the day, Susie. Take my messages and just forward them to me at home, okay?”

  Susie eyed me suspiciously. “Is there anything I can get for you, Mr. Thomas?”

  “No.” I grabbed my jacket. “Thanks, Susie.”

  She looked startled as I pushed past her and into the elevator. On my way down, I called for a driver to take me home. I was in such a rotten mood that I had a feeling my Porsche would wind up through the storefront of an expensive restaurant if I didn’t watch myself.

  When I got home, Brett had just gotten home from school. He was kneeling in the foyer, still clad in his New York Yankees jacket.

  “Dad, oh my god, you’re the best!” Brett launched himself at me and wrapped his still-skinny arms around my waist. “I can’t believe it, Dad! You rule!”

  I chuckled nervously. “Well, I’ve always thought so – but why now?”

  Brett laughed. “Dad, you don’t have to play dumb.” He pointed down to a giant box sitting in the middle of the foyer. It had been ripped open and the floor was littered with Styrofoam packing peanuts.

  “What is this?” I stepped closer and squinted.

  “Dad, thanks! You’re seriously awesome,” Brett said. “I can’t wait to tell all the kids at school that my dad bought me a PlayStation Five!”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  Brett pointed down into the box and cleared away some of the packing material with eager little hands. Inside was a shiny box, covered in Japanese print and featuring a space-age looking machine.

  “I don’t even know what that is,” I said. “Was there a card? Was it a gift from the office?”

  “Dad, seriously!” Brett rolled his eyes. “Thanks! I can’t wait to play, I just wish it had come with more games!” He held up two shiny plastic cases featuring animated figures and racing cars.

  “Uh, hold on there,” I said, reaching forward and plucking the plastic cases from Brett’s hands.

  Brett looked sour. “Oh. I bet you’re going to make me wait until after I’ve done my homework or something stupid like that. Dad, please! Come on, just a half hour! And then I’ll do my work – I swear!”

  “Hold on,” I repeated sternly. “We need to figure out where this came from.” As gently as I could, I pried the large box from my son’s hands and looked at the mailing slip. Brett’s name was printed in a plain font, along with our address. There wasn’t any indication of who had sent it, only a stamp from a post office right here in New York City.

  “Dad, please,” Brett whined.

  “You need to be quiet,” I said sharply. “Brett, if I can’t figure out who sent this, I’m sorry but you’ll have to return it.”

  “What?” Brett screeched loudly. “You’re kidding me! That’s not fair! It’s for me, look right there,” he said angrily, pointing to his name printed on the box.

  “That may be,” I said. “But I’m your father, and you need to obey me. And if we can’t determine that it’s safe, too bad. You’re not keeping it.”

  Brett looked at me with hatred in his eyes.

  “Brett, I’m sorry,” I said. “But this could be dangerous. This could be…oh, I don’t know. Rigged to explode or something.”

  Brett squinted at me. “You’re being crazy and paranoid,” he said coldly. “You can’t even let me have fun because you’re too worried about your stupid business all day.”

  “I’m only going to say this once,” I growled, grabbing the box and holding it in the air where Brett couldn’t reach. “You don’t ever insult me, or my business, ever again. Do you like having a nice life? You like living here, and having Isabelle around?”

  Brett gave me a sulky look.

  “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “It’s okay. I guess.”

  “If I didn’t have my company, we wouldn’t have any of this,” I said sharply. “And you wouldn’t have fifty thousand dollars in the bank, just waiting for the day you go to college.”

  Brett looked sour. “I just want to play,” he whined. His eyes lit up with hope. “Dad, if you…I dunno, inspect it, can you let me play? Just for a little bit?”

  “No,” I said sternly. “Go to your room and do your homework.”

  Brett glared at me. I could practically read his thoughts: “I hate you.”

  “I know you’re mad,” I continued calmly. “But this is for the best, Brett.”

  “Whatever,” Brett mumbled under his breath. He glared at me for a long pause, then turned on his heel and stomped up the stairs.

  Just then, Isabelle came out of the kitchen. She wiped her hands on her apron and cocked her head to the side.

 
“Is everything okay, Mr. Thomas?”

  I nodded and heaved a sigh. “Yes,” I said. “But when you have a free moment, would you mind cleaning this up?” I gestured down to all of the packing peanuts. “When everything is back in the box, please tape it up, set the box in my office, and lock the door.”

  Isabelle frowned but she nodded. “Yes, Mr. Thomas,” she said. “Is that a present for Brett?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea,” I said, struggling to stay calm. “It arrived with no return address.”

  Isabelle nodded. “I see,” she said. “Anything else, Mr. Thomas?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Please call my ex-wife and make sure she can take Brett over the weekend. I have reason to believe I’ll be entertaining.”

  Isabelle nodded again. “Would you like me to do anything? Prepare for your company?”

  “No, thank you,” I said. “That will be all, Isabelle.”

  Isabelle darted back into the kitchen and I sighed and closed my eyes. Right now, the thought of bringing June here and fucking her senseless was the only thing keeping me sane.

  I wondered how much other shit could possibly go wrong before I’d crack.

  Chapter Twelve

  June

  I was shocked when Thomas showed up at my apartment on Friday evening, unannounced. He looked gorgeous in a tailored suit – I could tell that he’d come directly from work.

  I could also tell that something was really bothering him. There seemed to be distance between us, distance that I couldn’t seem to reach. Thomas was acting both interested and cold…I wondered what was going on.

  “I’ve arranged for Brett to spend the weekend with his mother,” Thomas said. He raised an eyebrow at me. “How about you come home with me and spend the night? We’ll order takeout,” he added. “Whatever kind you like.”

  I flushed hotly. “Even cheap pizza?”

  “No cheap pizza,” Thomas said. He smiled, but there was no hint of warmth or affection in his eyes. “But I promise you’ll enjoy yourself.”

  I glanced down. “Should I…change?” I was still wearing the same jeans, blouse, and cardigan that I’d changed into when I’d come home from school. The event of the previous day had left me reeling, and my day had only been a success in that thankfully, I hadn’t seen Andy at all.

  Thomas chuckled. “No need,” he said. “I think you look perfect. After all, we’re not exactly going to do anything fancy, now are we?”

  I blushed. “I guess not,” I said softly.

  After leaving a note for Angela, I stuck my cell phone charger in my purse and followed Thomas outside. This time, there was no Porsche – only a shiny black Lincoln SUV parked by the curb.

  “Sometimes I don’t feel like driving,” Thomas said. He smirked. “So, I have a car service.”

  “Ah,” I said. I bit my lip as Thomas helped me into the luxe expanse of the backseat.

  The whole ride out of Brooklyn, Thomas was noticeably absent. He kept fiddling with his phone, fumbling all over the screen.

  “Thomas, what’s bothering you?” I bit my lip, hoping he wouldn’t chew me out for asking.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said dismissively. “Just a rough week at work. What about you?”

  I swallowed nervously. For a second, I almost told him what had happened with Andy in the alley…and the NYPD’s lackluster response. But I didn’t feel nearly as close to Thomas as I sometimes did. I figured I’d tell him later, after he’d relaxed.

  “Oh, not much,” I said. I forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

  It was dark by the time the Lincoln pulled up to Thomas’s building. I couldn’t help but gasp as he led me inside and we rode the elevator to the penthouse floor.

  “This is beautiful,” I said softly. The walls of the elevator were papered in elegant leather. A masculine, woodsy smell hung about the building, as if somehow they only sold to wealthy, gorgeous men.

  “It’s adequate,” Thomas said. “Brett doesn’t always enjoy it. He wishes that we had our own house.”

  “He’ll be grateful when he grows up,” I said. “Kids that age…well, it’s kind of a miracle when they aren’t totally selfish.”

  Thomas eyed me and nodded. “That’s entirely correct,” he said. “I love my son, very much, as you know.” He sighed. “But this year hasn’t been easy for either of us.”

  “Oh.” He’s finally going to open up to me, I realized happily. Finally, we’re getting somewhere!

  But just as Thomas was about to speak again, the doors of the elevator pinged open and I followed him down a lush hallway into a beautiful condo.

  “Wow.” I glanced around. “This is incredible.”

  “That’s all because of Isabelle,” Thomas said. “Brett’s nanny, but she also cooks and cleans.”

  “Oh,” I said in a small voice. “Is she here now?”

  Thomas gave me a wicked smile. My lower belly gave a lurch to the side and I felt my cheeks pink with a hot flush.

  “No,” Thomas said. “We’re all alone.” He leaned in close and raised an eyebrow. “I trust you feel safe.”

  I nodded quickly. Safer with you than with anyone else, I thought. If only I could tell you how I really feel.

  Thomas led the way into a beautiful, opulent living room with black leather furniture. It looked very adult, very masculine.

  “I redecorated recently,” Thomas said. “I’ve always owned this place, but Marlene and I used it as a crash pad when we were married. She kept her house in Bed-Stuy, and I kept this condo.”

  I nodded. “I like it,” I said. I glanced around, surreptitiously running my hand along the back of the elegant couch. “It really suits you.”

  “Would you care for a glass of wine?”

  My stomach rumbled and I flushed hotly as I remembered Thomas’s warning from the last time we were together.

  “Only if you don’t give me too much,” I said softly. “I…I wouldn’t want to…”

  Thomas grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he said. “But sometimes, on a Friday, there’s nothing like a glass of wine.” I watched nervously as he set his briefcase down on the floor, then walked into the kitchen and selected a bottle of wine from an elegant chrome-and-glass wine cabinet. I gasped when I realized it was also a chiller.

  “This is so cool,” I said. I looked around, feeling completely out of my element. “You have so many kitchen gadgets. I have no idea what most of these even do!”

  “Oh, I don’t either,” Thomas said. He laughed. “I give Isabelle a budget and tell her to buy whatever she wants for the house. She’s here most days, from five in the morning until I get home from work.”

  I nodded. “She must be good for Brett,” I said.