In all his conversations with Amber, he had gotten to know her, probably better than he should have. He’d run off at the mouth too much then, too. But she’d been easy to talk to, open, sincere, fun. And though she probably didn’t know it, her face usually gave away her emotions.
Like the concern he was seeing there now. Maybe that’s what prodded him to go on. “I did love the job. Once.” He had thought it would fill his life. And it did, just not the way he’d planned. “I didn’t think I’d get reduced to this much of a paper-pusher,” he added.
And that’s all he’d say. Not the part about being bored. Or feeling disillusioned. And definitely not the part about his fear. The fear that ate at him on a daily basis. The understanding that if he didn’t have the work he loved, he had nothing.
He nudged the laptop closed and grabbed his cell phone. “You two ready to go?”
Nodding, she adjusted Penny’s blanket. “I can’t wait. I’m hungry for a big turkey dinner and all the trimmings, plus dessert. What could be better?” No mention of the roles they would have to play. Before he could remind her, she added, “And please don’t say Bah, humbug again. Those are all things that make Christmas so special.”
“Not my Christmas.”
Dang. Too late to swallow those words. Thinking about his own family, his job, his lack of interest in the work…that’s all he’d needed to prime his irritation. At himself. But he’d taken the feeling out on Amber. Because in spite of her glowing expression, her talk of Christmas had triggered something dark inside him—the knowledge that he had no memories of ever celebrating a holiday the way she had.
Take this year’s aborted attempt, for example. He never should have gone to his dad’s house.
He never should have agreed to let Amber stay here.
She shook her head. Here it came, the blasting he deserved for snapping at her.
“Well,” she said softly, “why don’t we change things up? We’ll make today your chance to see what a real Christmas is like.”
Chapter Five
Amber stole a glance at Michael in the driver’s seat of his SUV. This morning, she had wondered why the mention of work made him look so grim. Now she knew. It hurt her heart to know he didn’t love his job the way she loved hers. Or that…
Oh, don’t go there. Bad enough that in just minutes she would have to pretend to be “together” with Michael. She couldn’t let anyone see how she really felt about him.
This could turn out to be the worst week of her life. Or the best—if you believed in miracles.
After pulling onto the street she indicated, he said, “We probably should have prepped.”
“For Christmas?”
His laugh seemed to fill the enclosed space. It definitely filled her heart with joy.
Don’t go there, either.
“No, not for Christmas. For the afternoon we need to get through.”
She blinked. So much for joy. And what about the big plan to have Scrooge enjoy the holiday? Hopefully, the jury was still out on that one. “Turn here. This is it.”
He pulled up close to the snow-swept front steps of her family home and came around to help her out of the SUV. When he took her arm, her startled breath of surprise misted in the cold air. A dead giveaway. A visual reminder to watch her reactions today.
As she moved to the rear seat to get Penny, he asked, “How many are there in your family?”
“Ten, counting my parents and the baby. You’ve met Callie and Lyssa. They’re the two oldest, then me. After us, we have a set of twin sisters and two younger brothers.”
He looked up at the house she had lived in until a short time ago. “Big place. You and the others are out on your own?”
“No, actually, they all still live at home.”
His eyes widened, as if her answer had surprised him. “You’re the only who’s left the nest permanently?”
“So far. The twins are in college, but of course they come back on their breaks.” Unlike Michael, as he had told her. Or if he did go home, it wasn’t willingly. How sad, again. No wonder the man didn’t like Christmas.
“What makes you so independent?” he asked.
She hesitated, fiddling with Penny’s blanket. What could she say? Definitely not that after her ex had left she had been too full of wounded pride—and too ashamed of her mistake in marrying him—to go back home. And positively not that Michael had been her hero, stepping in with his job offer at the point she had needed it most. “I just…like living on my own. With Penny.”
“Yeah. Amber…” He paused, looking down at her, then reached out to trace her cheek with one finger. A cold and padded finger, covered by his glove. And still she felt the warmth of him. Or thought she did. He smiled. “Just testing to make sure you wouldn’t jump. Doing this job right is going to involve us getting close. And probably some touching.”
Getting close and touching sounded so good. So right. But the word that stood out to her was job.
“No worries, boss.” There she went again, lying on Christmas Day. But what choice did she have? “Anything you can dish out, I can handle.”
He laughed. “Good to know.” Backing up a step, he looked at the house again. “The porch has been swept, too. You and the baby get in out of the cold. I’ll go park this thing.”
She nodded. As she reached the top of the steps, the SUV eased away.
“What a Christmas this is going to be,” she said to Penny. “Spending the day here with Grandma and Grandpa and everybody, pretending I’m actually dating my boss. And then going back home… I mean, going back to the lodge to spend Christmas night with Scrooge.” More than that, she and Penny would spend days living with a man who didn’t like crying babies and wanted to be left alone. Not the best omens for their temporary living arrangement.
She refused to even think about Michael’s attitude toward marriage.
“Luckily,” she told Penny, “he’s right. It’s a big lodge. We’ll just make sure to stay out of Scrooge’s way and not bother him.”
As if showing she could hold up her end of the bargain, Penny gazed up at her without making a sound.
From her parents’ living room, Amber could smell the rich scent of turkey roasting in the kitchen. The tree lights and electric candlesticks on the fireplace mantel were lit. Piles of wrapped packages covered the floor around the tree. The thought of Michael never having special holiday memories like these made her heart hurt again.
Her dad appeared in the hallway. “Merry Christmas!” he called.
“Merry Christmas to you, too.”
“About time you got here.”
She started, then covered the response by setting Penny in her carrier on the couch. “Why? Was Mom or someone trying to reach me? I have the cell phone on.” Read that as: Did they try the apartment phone last night and not get an answer? But no…if that had happened, Lyssa would have mentioned it.
“Not that I know of,” Dad said. “I just want to see my granddaughter.”
“Oh, and not your daughter?”
“I have four more of those.” Laughing, he tugged on her hat. “You know I love you, hon, but I’ve got only one grandbaby—so far.”
She smiled. If Dad had long ago gotten his way, he would have a handful of grandkids by now. He unbuckled the straps of the carrier and lifted Penny to cuddle her against his chest.
He wrapped his free arm around Amber. Her eyes misting, she rested her head against his shoulder. Just for a moment, she wanted to go back to the days when her dad’s hug could make everything better. But those days were over. And she could never regret growing up and learning to face some challenges on her own, especially now that she had her daughter.
“I heard the good news about you and Michael,” he went on. “Maybe one of these days, Penny will have a new brother or sister.”
Flushing, she unzipped her jacket.
Forget asking Michael what he had been thinking this morning. How had she ever let him talk her into his crazy id
ea, into believing they could get away with pretending they were dating? Or…could it be? Had she wanted to believe this was the real thing?
At this rate, it would be better if Michael didn’t find a parking spot until he reached the California border. “Dad, please don’t go on like that when Michael comes in. The news is…nice. But it’s very new news.” To us all. “You’d better start expanding your search for prospective moms. Since the twins are too young to give you any grandkids yet, I recommend you have this chat with Callie. And definitely with Lyssa, now that she’s engaged.”
“Are you talking about me again?”
Amber turned to find her sister leaning against the stairway railing. Although from a distance some folks in Snowflake Valley couldn’t tell the three oldest Barnett sisters apart, Lyssa had the darkest brown hair, inherited from their dad. She made a show of fluffing her curls and giving Amber an exaggerated smirk.
Amber laughed. “Talking about you again? Don’t you mean still? Since the party last night, Penny and I haven’t discussed anything but your engagement.”
If she didn’t count Scrooge.
Stop thinking about Michael. Stop thinking about men, period. Making one ginormous mistake in trying to find a forever relationship ought to be enough for anyone. But getting involved with Michael would be worse, times ten. He was her boss. The provider of her paycheck. The man who would give her a dream that could come true—not a life with him, but a home for her and Penny.
She and her daughter were a team. They didn’t need anyone else.
As Dad took Penny down the hallway to the kitchen, Lyssa approached, waggling her fingers to show off her temporary engagement ring. Sadly, Amber recalled the beautiful ring their older sister Callie had once worn. She tried not to think of the diamond solitaire she had once hoped for but had never gotten. With most of their money going toward the apartment, they’d barely had enough left to buy wedding bands. A good thing, after all. For her and Penny, a place to live was so much more important than a mocking reminder of a bad marriage.
Amber squinted at Lyssa and pretended to shield her eyes from a blazing light. “Put that rock away, or I won’t be able to see to eat my dinner. And why are you all alone? Where’s your brand-new better half?”
“Upstairs. And yours?”
“Parking,” she said shortly, eyeing the calculating look Lyssa gave her. Maybe Michael had been right after all. Who would have thought it? But maybe her next-older sister hadn’t completely bought their story, after all.
“Are you okay?” Lyssa asked.
She jumped. “I’m fine. Why?”
“You seem distracted. Not yourself.”
For a second, she felt tempted to confess everything. To blurt out the truth and ask for help. She could trust both Lyssa and Callie to come to her aid. But just as she had told Michael, relying on them was part of her problem. She couldn’t let her family know what she had gotten herself into now. They’d never leave her alone again.
“I’m fine,” she assured Lyssa. “I was thinking I need to go wish Mom a Merry Christmas. And we should see if she needs any help getting dinner ready.”
“Right,” her sister said dryly. “As if you really expect me to fall for that. The truth is, you’re just hoping to swipe a leftover cinnamon roll from breakfast.”
“Busted.” She forced a laugh. “Well, we can’t call it Christmas without a few cinnamon rolls.” Or without a big turkey dinner, special desserts, and gifts. And without joy and laughter and family and friends.
Her eyes suddenly misting again, she thought of a snow-covered mountainside and of a man on his own inside a secluded ski lodge.
No matter what she would have to suffer through today—Dad’s teasing, Lyssa’s questions, Michael’s nearness and his touch—oh, yes, please, his touch… No matter any of those things, she was glad she hadn’t left that man all alone on Christmas Day.
…
Considering Amber’s fears of how her family would behave, Michael found the Barnetts a low-key bunch. Especially compared to what he had to grow up with.
Mrs. Barnett had stopped supervising the dinner prep long enough to pause beside him. Her brown curls were graying around the edges. Still, she looked nearly as young as her three eldest daughters, who strongly resembled her. She’d given him a big smile. “Hello, Michael. We’re very glad you’re here.” Then she’d hurried off, leaving him feeling more pleased than that simple welcome had warranted.
He had gone through a few interesting moments fielding straightforward questions from Mr. Barnett. The man was tall and thin with dark hair that, like his wife’s, had grayed around the edges. They both could probably blame that on raising a houseful of kids.
When the man’s questions veered toward his business, he had felt Amber’s gaze on him. He’d said too much to her about his job. She was his employee, not his best friend. But he’d always found her a good listener.
“Well,” Mr. Barnett said, “let’s get the introductions over with and then settle in at the table.”
Michael earned a few giggles from the red-haired girl twins and received a couple of “hey, mans” and handshakes from the teenaged boys. Callie and Lyssa, the two oldest, he had met before. And Nick, of course, who looked right at home as they took seats at the crowded dining room table. Very crowded.
No problem. The tight space put him closer to Amber. So far, between helping to set the table and carrying dishes from the kitchen, she’d had very little to say. Very little to do with him, come to think of it. He was in this for her, wasn’t he? The least she could do was pay him some attention. He shifted his chair even closer, letting his arm graze hers.
For a moment, she froze. Then she turned, smiling, to hand him a bowl. The pleasure of that smile was worth the risk of touching her. But to his dismay, he found himself wanting more from her than a dish of cranberries.
“Have you decided yet if you’re going to fight the boys for a drumstick?” she asked.
He tried not to frown. In his house, arguments at dinnertime were the main course. “I’ll pass on that, seeing as I’m only a guest.”
“Oh, no you’re not,” Lyssa said. “Any friend of a Barnett is like one of the family.”
Amber hadn’t been kidding about that, after all. He should have taken notes on everything else she’d said.
Callie leaned forward. “Now Dad’s done carving, we really need to get down to business.” Her eyes gleamed with the same passion for organizing he frequently saw in his office manager’s expression.
“We’re having a committee meeting?” one of the boys asked. “But it’s Christmas.”
“And tomorrow’s lunch, then the festival kickoff, and the next day we need to start getting everything ready for the auction. And,” she said, “Nick and Michael need to be brought up to speed on our discussions.”
“I’m good, thanks,” Nick said. Lyssa elbowed him, and he laughed and wrapped his arm around her. “Only kidding.”
Michael said nothing, just took each dish handed to him and spooned food onto his plate. Sweet potatoes. Stuffing. Green-bean casserole. Corn. Gravy. A biscuit—okay, two. Much more interesting than the topic on the table. Let the Barnetts discuss anything they wanted. He had no intention of getting wrapped up in the family projects.
“This committee meeting is in honor of the Winter Festival?” Nick asked. The poor guy must have accepted he had no choice but to go along.
“Not really,” Callie said. “Mom and Dad have co-chaired the festival since they took over from our grandparents. We can all do our jobs for that blindfolded. What we need to talk about now is the silent auction.”
“Callie thought of having a fundraiser to help her school,” Mrs. Barnett said proudly. “And the silent auction was all Amber’s idea.” She sent each of those daughters a smile.
“It wasn’t all mine, Mom,” Amber protested. “Callie and I did some brainstorming together.”
“We did,” Callie agreed. “I had a lot of great help
in the initial stages. And I’m going to need a lot more now.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” Lyssa said.
“We” does not include me. He was not becoming part of this group.
“Callie’s announcing the auction at the start of the festival tomorrow,” Amber explained to Nick. Considering she had come up with the idea, she seemed oddly content to give her sister all the credit. “We’re going to store the donated items in her classroom at the school, while the kids are still on their winter break.”
“And that’s why we’re having the auction the same week as the festival,” Lyssa said with a laugh. “The teachers are on break, too, so they can help out.”
“Yes,” Callie said, “but we’re running into problems. Some of them scheduled out-of-town family visits. And I’ve had a few call to tell me they’re down with the flu. That’s why I need you all to pitch in.”
“Do we get paid?” one of the twins asked.
“Very funny.” Callie wasn’t smiling.
The other twin leaned forward. “What do you need us to do?”
Callie held up one hand, and again he recognized the passion for organization. Did Amber ever have the chance to run anything? Or did her oldest sister always take over? No wonder she felt so strongly about standing on her own two feet.
Callie began counting off on her fingers. “We need to make posters and flyers and bidding slips for the auction. We’ll need teams to pick up the donations and store them in my room. Then, later, to transfer them to the community center. And at the end of the auction, we’ll have to rearrange the room to set up for the Snow Ball.”
The ball that, thanks to Callie, had brought him to this table today. Beside him, Amber froze. Maybe she was remembering how close she’d come to being nominated.
“And of course,” Callie added, “we’ll also need to go through the bids to pick the winners.”
“And that’s just for starters,” Lyssa said.
One of the boys groaned.
One Week to Win Her Boss (Snowflake Valley) Page 5
