Frankie snickered at the joke. She opened her eyes as Lance took the clean shirt from him and began to pull it on. Anger coursed through her veins, the frustration she’d felt only a half hour ago roaring back to life. “You ran into me.”
He held his hands up in defense, a disbelieving grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Whatever you say.”
She groaned and shook her head. Enough about the coffee. This whole encounter was suddenly about a lot more than the hazards of hot beverages.
“You weren’t supposed to be here until later this week.” Skirting far around him, she moved to her desk and pulled out a notepad. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, at the earliest.”
“I wanted to get a jump start,” he replied, his heavy lidded gaze reaching hers as he slowly buttoned his shirt up. “Maybe even get out of here by Christmas day. Uncle Matthias wants me to familiarize myself with your accounts and practices and then report back to him. Any problems with that?”
They had a lot to accomplish by Christmas day. There was end of year paperwork to complete, tree decorating at the children’s home, the community Christmas party, and so much more. She didn’t have the time to slow down.
“This isn’t how we do things around here,” she replied, with impatience thick in her voice. “This isn’t how we do our holiday season.”
Lance had finally managed to fully clothe himself. Gemma tried to erase the image of him standing there without a shirt from her mind, without success. She glanced at the photography on her walls for help.
“Well, it’s a new day,” He replied, a mocking smile lighting up his face. She had the sudden urge to slap him again. “So, I guess you’re just going to have to roll with it. None of us want to be here in this dinky, forgotten, excuse of a town.”
Frankie raised his hand from the corner of the room. “Not true. I don’t mind it.”
Lance shot him a glare and then returned his attention to her. “So, humor my uncle and let me do my job.”
“You want to get to know our practices?” Gemma swept her hair back and stared at him with mistrust. “How we run things around here?”
He nodded and grinned at her. “Yeah, exactly. Show me what makes this place tick. The sooner I learn, the sooner I can be out of your hair.”
Gemma bit the inside of her cheek and considered his request for a moment. As far as she could see, it all sounded like busy work. Something to keep Mr. Barkley’s terrible nephew out of trouble. She could indulge him for a few days. Maybe they’d even see an increase in funding for their troubles. But that didn’t mean she had to make it easy on him.
A pretty boy like Lance Barkley probably didn’t like to get his hands dirty. She could take this opportunity to show him how the other half lived, especially how they lived in New Hope. Tomorrow was a Tuesday, which gave her the perfect idea.
“What are you, about a large?” She stood from her desk and walked around it, considering his shape. “Maybe an extra large?”
“A large,” he replied hesitantly, suddenly uncomfortable with her attention. “Why?”
“Just a minute.”
She hurried out of her office toward Laurie’s desk where both girls were still waiting. They gave her doe eyes and leapt to question her, their voices coming out in strained whispers.
“Did you see him?”
“Isn’t he gorgeous?”
“What did he say? How long is he staying?”
“Aren’t you glad you’re suddenly single?”
Gemma hushed them with one sharp gesture of her hand. “That man is nothing but trouble. I want both of you to stay away from him. He’s an arrogant spoiled brat who has nothing better to do than distract us from our busiest season of the year.”
Their eyes grew wide as they stared at her. Gemma wasn’t the type of person to rush to quick judgment on someone. If she already felt that way, he had to be bad.
“Fine,” Chloe said with a pout. “But what are we going to do about the guy? We’re kind of stuck with him.”
“That may be,” Gemma replied, as she pulled the bottom drawer of Laurie’s desk open. Reaching into the mass of pink that appeared, she pulled out a few items. “But that doesn’t mean we have to make it enjoyable for him. I think we can give him a good lesson on getting his hands dirty. Ricardo might have a job or two worth his skill level.”
Laurie and Chloe snickered as Gemma gave them a knowing look. She headed back into her office and threw the items into Lance’s hands. He looked at her questioningly and then unraveled the gifts to find a pink t-shirt and a sparkling pink rhinestone leash.
“Um…what’s this?” He held the t-shirt up to his chest. In bold purple lettering, it said Ricardo’s Pet Shelter across the front.
“Your uniform for tomorrow morning.” She smiled to herself as she settled back into her office chair. Frankie was laughing at the pink leash as his boss held it up. “We like to have a hands-on policy at the foundation. Ricardo’s is one of our main grantees. We volunteer there every Tuesday.”
“I don’t do pink.” The shirt hung limply from the tips of his finger, as if it were going to infect him.
“And I don’t do babysitting,” she shot back with a tilt of her head. “But I guess tomorrow’s a new day.”
They stared each other down across the expanse of her office, not quite knowing what either of them had signed up for in that moment.
Chapter Five
Lance didn’t understand how someone so beautiful could be so evil. From the moment he’d pulled that pink t-shirt over his head that morning, he’d decided that she was trouble. As if a scalding hot coffee down the front of his suit hadn’t been a big enough clue. And now, here he was at New Hope’s little pet rescue on a Tuesday morning, getting ready to walk some flea bitten dogs.
He’d never been an animal person. His mother wouldn’t let him have a pet as a child. Not even a goldfish. Somehow, animals seemed to sense that about him. They liked to take advantage of his naivety and scratch or bite him when he was least expecting it. He had a few puncture marks on his ankle from a little rat of a dog to prove it.
“You remember meeting Chloe and Laurie at the office yesterday,” Gemma said to him, as she and her cronies huddled for warmth inside Ricardo’s kennels.
Lance nodded at each of them. This hadn’t been at all what he’d expected. Three beautiful and intelligent women working at the foundation - three women who he’d probably have to fire in a few days. Frankie had wished him good luck with the task last night, as if sending him off to his own death. He couldn’t even be bothered with volunteering to join Lance at the shelter. It’d ruin his Tom Ford denims, he argued.
“Hello, my beautiful muchachas!” A man with heavily moussed hair and sporting a matching pink t-shirt leapt into the room, pulling the three women into a warm hug. They returned his embrace and laughed, pulling apart only when the man noticed Lance standing there awkwardly. “And hello, man-candy. What heavenly host dropped you under my Christmas tree?”
Lance gulped and felt a flush run up his neck. He didn’t know how to respond.
“That’s no man-candy, Ricardo,” Gemma replied with a wry smile. Lance found himself grateful for her interruption, but slightly put out by the way she disagreed with him. He could be man-candy if he wanted to be. “That’s Lance Barkley. He’s here to learn what makes the foundation tick. He’s ready to get his hands dirty.”
Lance opened his mouth to protest, but the four of them had already turned to discuss the day’s work. Dogs needed washing and walking and kennels needed cleaning and sanitizing. The ladies of the New Hope foundation worked as an efficient team, pulling out supplies and readying the excited dogs. He loitered near the cage of a particularly shy dog, hoping to go unnoticed. Maybe if he kept quiet, they’d forget he was here.
“How are things with Scott?” Ricardo asked Gemma. “Your boy toy hasn’t been around much lately.”
Lance’s ears pricked up. So the evil woman had a man? Instantly, h
e felt sorry for the dude. He couldn’t imagine how the guy managed to get up every morning.
“Ex-boy toy,” Gemma replied with a sigh. “We broke up a couple nights ago. I don’t think you’ll be seeing much more of him.”
He grinned to himself. Guess that guy had broken free. He should be touring the bars, celebrating his freedom. That’s what Lance would’ve been doing. Of course, that hadn’t been the case when his ex-girlfriend dumped him a year ago out of the blue. But hindsight was twenty-twenty. Turned out, she’d been cheating on him with all his buddies. So much for true love.
“Lance, buddy, are you ready to get to work?” Ricardo spotted him near the kennels and a smile stretched across his wide mouth. “I’ve got the perfect pup for you. I see you already have a leash.”
Lance limply held up the pink rhinestone leash. The thing felt like a dead banana peel in his hand. He couldn’t wait to get rid of it.
“Get me the biggest, baddest pooch in this place,” he told Ricardo with a confident swagger. The women were watching him out of the corners of their eyes. He would prove to them he wasn’t a wimp. “I can handle it.”
“Alright, man, if you insist.” Ricardo led him to a kennel at the far end of the shelter. Two beady eyes peered back at them from the darkness of the doghouse inside, unblinking. “This is Spartacus. I think the two of you are going to get along just fine.”
Lance puffed out his chest and nodded, despite the innate worry that had begun to gnaw at his insides. A name like Spartacus belonged to a fearsome beast. Surely, he hadn’t oversold his skills with the animal kingdom. Maybe he needed a muzzle along with a stronger leash to handle this dog.
“Don’t worry, dude,” Ricardo said, his voice softening. He padded him on the back, coming close enough to whisper. “The ladies will be impressed. You know, Gemma loves a dog guy.”
He shrugged. Why should he care what kind of guy Gemma liked? All he wanted to do was to get this day over with and dive back into the mounds of paperwork waiting for him back at the office.
“Bring on the beast,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster.
Ricardo nodded his approval and opened the pen. Kneeling on the ground, he whistled and patted his knee. “Come here, Spartacus. Time for your walk, buddy boy.”
It took a bit more sweet talk and convincing before Spartacus would make his appearance. But when he finally stepped into the harsh fluorescent light of the shelter, Lance felt like the butt of a joke. Spartacus was nothing but a seven-pound blond miniature poodle with a pink nose and bad breath. He could have punted the thing across the room, had he wanted to. It looked up at him pathetically, as if reading his train of thought.
Ricardo chuckled as he clipped the rhinestone leash onto the dog and handed it back to Lance. “Here you go. A match made in heaven. Let him stretch his legs and then we’ll get him in a bath. A turn around the block should do it.”
Lance gently pulled the leash forward, unsure what to do. Spartacus looked about as strong as a glass unicorn. One wrong move, and he might shatter a leg. He wasn’t sure whether he should pull him along or carry him.
“Just give him time to get used to you,” Gemma said, coming up from behind. “He’s from an abusive home. He doesn’t trust easily.”
Lance turned to watch her get a beautiful old golden retriever from the neighboring kennel. Despite his strong dislike for her, he liked the way she bent down to pet the dog, as if they were old friends. Her graceful hands worked their way behind the dog’s ears, finding the perfect spot to scratch. Lance imagined those hands encircling his own neck, her body close to his. He imagined she tasted like peppermints and sweet wine.
Shaking his head, he put a halt to the thought. No one in this room wanted that. He needed to keep his mind on the job and away from career ending sirens. No good would come of him getting distracted from his uncle’s mission.
“My girlfriend and I actually broke up around the holidays, too.” Lance wanted to pinch himself. Why had he told her that? It was an absurd story to tell.
“Okay….?” She looked up at him, suspicion in her large brown eyes.
“I just mean to say that, you do get through it,” he said. It was too late to back out of the topic of choice. “Even with everyone being all lovey dovey and shoving Christmas down your throat, the holidays do end. And then you get over them. You move on.”
Her eyes narrowed, and Lance couldn’t tell if she was unhappy with him or merely calculating the hours until he left. Still, she didn’t seem enraged, and that was a big step up from their meeting in the coffee shop yesterday.
“I think it’s broken,” Lance said lamely, blindly reaching for a different topic, and nodded at the dog. It’d huddled into a ball on the floor, looking up at him with meek whimpers. “Do you accept returns?”
Gemma smiled unexpectedly and let out a light laughter that gave him thrills. “Afraid not. No returns, exchanges, or refunds.”
“Shoot.” He was stuck with the rat then. “Come on, Spartacus.”
It took a few minutes to coax him to the door. A few more minutes to get him to actually step over the threshold and into the brisk December air. All along, Gemma and her pals were laughing it up and having a good time at the bathing station.
Lance tried to hold back his embarrassment, but a hot flush had worked its way up his neck. They were probably mocking his dog walking skills, wondering how a guy who couldn’t even get a toy poodle to walk could ever lead a million dollar corporation. The pain of failure stung deep. Even Gemma’s distracting smile couldn’t pull him out of his misery.
“Maybe, I’m going to enjoy firing them,” he said to Spartacus as they finally got out the door. “Maybe they deserve it.”
He wasn’t sure about that, but one thing was certain: he needed to get Gemma Rink out of his head.
Chapter Six
Gemma found herself heading to work that Friday morning at an especially early hour. Her melatonin tablet had failed to produce a decent night’s sleep. Maybe it was stress about the holiday season that had her tossing at all hours of the night. Either way, she was awake bright and early and ready to put some of the worries to rest.
It surprised her to find the office lights already on and someone inside. Stepping cautiously through the doorway, she gripped the can of pepper spray in her purse her mom had given her four years ago before she’d taken a trip to Aspen. Not that anyone needed pepper spray in Aspen.
Still, it brought her a little sense of security as she crept into the old building, wondering who could be rifling through their drawers. The foundation didn’t keep any cash on sight. That was all tucked away safely in the New Hope bank.
Yanking the can from her purse, she jumped into her office with the nozzle pointed the wrong way. Lance looked up from the temporary desk he’d had his assistant relocate into her office with surprise. It took him two seconds to give her that maddeningly cocky grin and then lean on his elbow.
“I think you’d better point that the other way,” he said. “Or it might have the opposite effect you intended.”
Gemma looked at the can in her hand for a moment and then shoved it back into her purse, her cheeks burning bright. So much for those self-defense classes she’d taken with the ladies down at the gym last summer. She would’ve blinded herself, had he been a real intruder.
“What are you doing here so early?” she demanded, suddenly irritated. She’d been counting on an hour or two of alone time this morning to get things done.
“Work.”
It wasn’t a sarcastic answer, but it irritated her even more, nonetheless. “Well, let me through. I need to get some work done, too.”
He scooted in his chair to let her pass. As she did, she caught the scent of his aftershave. It was a spicy scent that pleased her nose and made her want to buy a candle with it. Hurrying to her chair, she splayed her things across the desk and yanked a file out of a drawer.
“I don’t suppose Chloe gave you last year’s tax return
s?” she asked, not finding them in the file.
“Yep.”
He handed them over, their hands touching for the briefest moment. She thanked him and pulled away, grateful for the space between them.
Lance had already been here for five days, but still, she couldn’t get used to his presence. Something about him unsettled her. He’d played along at the shelter, walking dogs until his legs practically gave out. It was hilarious seeing such a strong man walk the itty bitty dogs. He’d even played along in the office this week, acting as pleasant as could be.
Still, something kept drawing her eyes to the side of his face as he poured through the paperwork in front of him. It couldn’t be his good looks, although he certainly didn’t lack those. She’d never been that shallow. But she just couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Is there something that you want?” He’d caught her staring at him.
Gemma jumped in her seat, suddenly embarrassed. “No, nothing.”
“Okay…” He turned back to his paperwork, thumbing through a tax return.
“Well, actually.” She could feel the questions bubbling up in her gut. There was so much about this man that she didn’t know, yet they shared an office. Surely, she was allowed to ask one or two. “Why are you here?”
A small smile played on his lips. “Is that more of an existential question or are you wanting something a bit more grounded in reality?”
“No, really, why are you here?” She bit her bottom lip, ready to spill. “From what I hear, you’re loaded. You’ve got tons of money from your parents. Why would you let your uncle send you here? What do you get out of it?”
He leaned back in his seat and let out a large breath of air. “Those are personal questions.”
She ducked her head a bit, thinking about what her mother would say if she were here. Manners had always been important to her mom. As a single mother, they were often all they had. Even when they only had ten dollars to their name, they always had their manners.
Mistletoe in the Snow: A New Hope Sweet Christmas Romance - Book 1 Page 3
