Baby, Let It Snow: I'll Be Home for ChristmasSecond Chance Christmas

by Beverly Jenkins

  Robert sat the box on one of the chairs in front of her desk. “I was told I would find you here. How are you this morning?”

  “Okay. How are you?”

  “Good.” He flashed his perfect smile and clapped his hands together. “And ready to get to work. I was wondering where I could set up office.”

  She shot up from her seat. “Set up office!”

  “Well…yes, I need a place to work.”

  “Why?”

  “Why, what?” He frowned. “Why do I need a place to work? Or why do I work?”

  “Why do you need to set up here? I just assumed you would not be staying.”

  “Why wouldn’t I stay?”

  “I thought— I mean…” Breathe, Breathe. Stay calm. “Well, last night, I just got the impression that La Bohemia was more of an investment for you. Not really a hands-on endeavor.”

  He smiled again, but this time there was something suggestive about it. “Diana, if we’re going to be business partners there is something you should know about me. I’m always hands-on.”

  Those hands. Those hands. Her eyes involuntarily flashed to his large hands. “So, what are you saying? You’re moving back to Traverse City permanently?”

  “You know, if I were a sensitive man I might be offended by that little high-pitch screech. It almost sounds as if you do not want me to move back.”

  Her eyes narrowed on his face. “What are you trying to pull here, Robert?”

  His eyes widened in exaggerated innocence. “Why, Diana, whatever do you mean?”

  “You know quite well what I mean!”

  He shook his head slowly, those honey-brown eyes watching her like a predator in the underbrush. “Afraid not. I was just looking for some work space.”

  Unable to stop herself, her eyes flashed over his perfectly kissable lips and back to those eyes that seemed to be reading her mind. It was so unfair. How after all this time, and everything that had happened, the thought of being touched by him could still send a thrill racing up her spine. Was she just sex-starved? Would close contact with any attractive man have this effect on her now?

  “When you left you said you would never return.”

  He shrugged one broad shoulder. “People change their minds.”

  “You said you never wanted to see La Bohemia again.”

  “Rash words spoken by a boy too young to know his own mind.”

  “You said you never wanted to see me again!”

  “I was hurt.” He made a waving gesture. “People say things when they’re hurt.”

  “You’re right, Robert. You were hurt. Too hurt to come back here ten years later and buy up the place you never wanted to see again. Why are you doing this?”

  “I’m sure your brother told you—”

  “I want the truth!”

  “I don’t know what you expect me to say, I mean—”

  “Never mind.” She glared at him. “It’s obvious you’re never going to tell me.” As she braced her hands on the desk and leaned forward looking him directly in the eyes, her eyes closed briefly as she caught a whiff of something sweet. Maybe he’d eaten a cinnamon roll from the dining room for breakfast. Maybe there is still a trace of it on those soft-looking lips. Realizing her train of thought was straying again, she glanced back at his knowing eyes and she knew instantly. Working in these close quarters is never going to work!

  “You were about to say something?” He smirked.

  That smirk was enough to pull her out of her daydream. She narrowed her eyes on his face and focused on what she needed to say. “Mark my words, Robert. I will find out. I will have that contract you tricked my brother into signing dissected into tiny little pieces, and then I’m going to have those pieces dissected into tiny little pieces and if there is anything even the slightest bit out of order I will have the thing destroyed and you tossed out on your ass so fast it’ll make your head spin! Are we clear?”

  “One hundred percent.” He glanced around the office. “But until that happens, where can I work?”

  She simply stared at him, not willing to give an inch.

  “I was thinking maybe that space over the winery, if no one is using it.”

  “Daddy’s old work space?”

  He shrugged. “If no one is using it I could go there.”

  Diana was just about to tell him exactly where to go when another thought occurred to her. This may be just the opportunity she was looking for. Despite her aversion to the idea of sharing an office with him, what better way to find out what he was up to than to have him sitting at the desk directly across from hers? She could hear his phone calls, see his faxes and maybe even get a look at his laptop.

  She forced a smile. “Why don’t you take that desk.” She gestured to the desk behind him.

  Robert glanced over his shoulder and back at her, a small frown creasing his brow. “Your mother’s desk?” He shook his head. “No, I couldn’t do that.”

  She felt the fake smile beginning to crumble, but fought to hold it in place. “Why not? It’s a lot more comfortable working in here as opposed to that dusty old winery.” She tried to laugh playfully, but it came out as more of a strangled sound.

  His frown increased and he tilted his head, considering. “Seriously, Diana, I couldn’t take Ms. Ella’s desk. I was thinking about the space over the winery.”

  “No, no.” She crossed to the other desk and began moving her mother’s pictures and small trinkets. Each item removed felt like a pin stick, but she refused to let Robert see how it bothered her to do this. “If we are going to be partners we might as well get off to a good start.”

  “I thought it was too late for that.” He spoke quietly, but she realized his voice was closer. He had walked up behind her. “Diana, this is not necessary. I’ll just take the space in the win—”

  She turned and found her face within an inch of his. Standing this close she could even smell his aftershave. Aftershave, she thought ironically. When she’d loved him he didn’t even have anything worth shaving. Unable to stop herself she inhaled deeply. Lord, he smells good!

  She glanced at his face, noting all the subtle changes of time, and wondered what had become of the boy she remembered, was he still in there? How had life changed him? The random thought reminded her of how very much a stranger Robert had become to her. She had to keep saying that, keep reminding herself that no matter how wonderfully familiar he seemed she really didn’t know this man and therefore she could not trust him.

  “Excuse me,” she whispered and pushed by him, carrying the armful of pictures and knickknacks and dropping them on her own desk. “There.” She gestured back to the other desk. “See how easy that was?”

  He stood staring at her for several seconds, before saying, “I really would prefer the space over the winery.”

  “Why? It gets pretty cold out there this time of the year. And you’re so isolated out there…. Unless…” Her eyes narrowed on his face. “Isolated is what you’re looking for.”

  He sighed in resignation. “No, this will work just fine.” He picked up his brown box and placed it on his new desk. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” Diana answered, watching as he unpacked his brown box. It contained a few binders, a desktop calendar, a laptop and a few other miscellaneous items. But Diana’s thoughts were not on the brown box and its contents, her thoughts were on his insistence over the use of the winery office. Why did he want that office so badly?

  It was just a small cramped space over the winery that her father had loosely referred to as his office, but since her mother primarily ran the business it was really more of a work space for his model-train hobby.

  Robert, of course, knew of the space because they’d played there often as children. A room full of model trains was almost irresistible to a young boy. But no one had really used the space for anything but storage since her father died.

  But it was now obvious to her that as much as he tried to make it sound like the idea of using that o
ffice had been some random idea, it wasn’t. He’d chosen the space specifically. But why?

  What are you up to? She returned to her seat and watched as Robert settled into his new home. He looked up and smiled at her before opening his laptop.

  Diana realized that by insisting he remain in the office with her, she’d inadvertently thwarted part of his plan without even realizing it. She smiled to herself as she returned to the payroll spreadsheet she’d been working on all morning. Score one for the home team, she thought.

  But by noon that small victory had begun to wane. Diana had spent the past two hours pretending to work while she covertly listened to and watched everything Robert did, every call he made, every piece of paper he tossed in the garbage. He had given nothing away regarding his plans for La Bohemia but she did learn some other surprising things.

  The man really did know the hotel business. Apparently, he’d spent years running various hotels and inns around the country. Listening to him discuss everything from marketing campaigns to supplier contracts, Diana had become curious and closing her payroll spreadsheet, she began looking him up on Google instead.

  And now she was having a hard time keeping her facial expression neutral as she read story after story about the brilliant hotelier Robert Fenton. How could she not have heard about him in all these years? And why hadn’t he told her any of this himself?

  “So, you’re something of a wonder boy, huh?” she asked as he completed his latest call with the linen supplier to a luxury resort in Dallas.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “When Shwan said you had experience in the hotel business, I had no idea.”

  He sat back in the chair. “No idea of what?”

  “That you were some kind of fix-it-man, from what I can tell you seem to spend most of your time flying around the world pulling hotels back from the edge of bankruptcy. You’ve developed quite a reputation.”

  He nodded toward her computer. “What are you reading over there?”

  “Just some interesting articles about you. Why didn’t you mention any of this?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I don’t know, I think maybe it does. I can better understand your interest in La Bohemia. It definitely fits the criteria of hotel on the edge of bankruptcy. But what doesn’t make any sense is that most of the time these hotels hire you to come in to help them, and they pay you a ridiculous amount of money to do it.” Her eyes came up to meet his. “I never asked for anything.”

  He flashed his dazzling smile. “You didn’t have to. Like I said to you last night, when I heard La Bohemia was in trouble, I felt it my duty to help. After all, this was my home for many years.”

  “Right, right. Fond memories, yada yada.”

  He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the desk. “Diana, I know all this has been a shock to your system. And I blame myself for that. I should’ve let Shawn tell you sooner. But, I hope that now that it is done, we can find a way to work together. I really want nothing but to help.”

  She gave a very unladylike snort. “Whatever. Your little sincerity act may’ve fooled my brother, but I’m not Shawn. You forget Robert, I know what you really are.”

  “Oh? What is that exactly?”

  “A liar and a cheat.” She stood and headed for the door. “And like I said earlier.” She paused in the doorway. “This is far from over.”

  As Robert watched Diana storm out of the office, he released a heavy sigh. Robert Fenton was a man who prided himself on his meticulous planning. He was known for it. He planned for every contingency. His extremely analytical brain was what made him such a hot commodity among the corporate boards of hotel franchises around the world. His strategic style was the key to his success, and it was a skill that had made him a very rich man over the past five years as he accumulated a veritable treasure trove of hotels and inns, all collected and managed under the umbrella of his parent company, Tribute, Inc. Hotels he’d picked up for pennies on the dollar were now worth millions all because of his exceptional planning.

  And yet…this project which he’d spent years planning, this venture which was supposed to yield him the crown jewel of his collection, La Bohemia Winery and B&B, this acquisition which was supposed to be the physical embodiment of his greatest revenge…well, it was turning into the equivalent of a speeding race car on the autobahn to hell.

  And it was all because nothing was going according to plan! From the moment his car had rolled onto the property nothing was as he had thought it would be.

  He’d spent most of his adult life hating this place, plotting and planning how to destroy it, and yet when he’d walked through that door yesterday he had felt an instant and undeniable sense of homecoming.

  Seeing everyone gathered around the big dining-room table took him instantly back to all the Thanksgiving meals he’d taken at that very table. And surprisingly, they were good memories. Memories of laughter and happiness, good food and interesting people. And it wasn’t just the dinner that brought back memories, it was everything about the place. The pictures on the walls, the furniture, even the smells and sounds. It was as if nothing had changed. As if he had simply stepped back in time.

  Nothing brought it home faster than seeing Diana. His heart had automatically reacted to her, just an overwhelming surge of joy. The kind of happiness he hadn’t felt in years. He wanted to run to her, take her in his arms and just hold her. But of course he did none of those things because he was not here for Diana, he was here for justice.

  She was so beautiful. How could any sane man have forgotten how lovely she was? Actually, he knew how. By trying.

  He’d spent years trying to wipe away the image of Diana Rogers and apparently it had worked. Because seeing her had been a punch to his gut, and he felt as if he were once again that pathetic, fawning, seventeen-year-old boy in love for the first time.

  But where was the anger, the rage he’d expected to feel? Where was the feeling of satisfaction when he told her he was her new partner? He had planned it for days, no…for years.

  How he would shove the ironclad contract in her face and lay down the law. Let her know there was a new sheriff in town and he wanted her out by sunset! Instead, he’d plopped down at the table, unbuttoned his pants and begun stuffing his face with turkey. What the hell?

  This morning while he was showering, he’d managed to convince himself that the day before was just an anomaly. That today he could get his plan back on track. That was until he’d walked into the office and found her sitting behind her desk looking like the girl straight out of his fantasies. Even at twenty-six there was a fresh-faced innocence about her, a sweetness that he had never encountered in another woman. His traitorous heart had once again begun its happy dance just at the sight of her.

  How after ten years could she still affect him so? And more importantly, how was he supposed to carry out his plan of ruthless revenge if he couldn’t even control his own unruly emotions?

  Chapter 4

  Oscar was filling the salt machine when he noticed someone walking down the road toward the winery. Shielding his eyes against the bright autumn sunlight, he was able to make out the figure of a man.

  Recognizing who it was, he smiled and started up the road to meet him. “I thought you’d find your way out here eventually. You never could stay away from this place.”

  Robert returned the smile and offered his hand but Oscar pulled him into a bear hug instead. The old man hugged him close before stepping back to look up at Robert’s imposing height. The wide smile on the crinkled brown face conveyed nothing but sincere pleasure.

  “Boy, when you came through that door up at the house yesterday it was like I was looking at a ghost. You look so much like your daddy did at your age.”

  Not knowing how to respond to that Robert simply smiled and tucked his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “How have you been, Oscar?”

  “All things considered, not too bad.” He gestured to a work bench sitting up
against the side of the building. “Here, let’s sit down. My ole legs ain’t what they used to be.” He gently lowered to the bench and turned on the seat to face Robert. “So, whatcha been up to all this time? Where’d you go?”

  Robert chuckled. “Everywhere. Let’s just say I’ve kept busy.”

  Despite his age, Oscar’s eyes were as sharp as ever as he took in Robert’s appearance, everything from the tailored clothes to the expensive leather jacket. “Apparently busy pays well. Look atcha, all decked out like the Prince of Egypt. You’re a far cry from the scruffy little boy who used to follow me and your daddy around the place from sunup to sundown.”

  “Well, we’ve all come a long way from then.” He glanced out over the snow-covered land. In the summer the fields would be overflowing with lush, abundant fruit and emerald-green leaves. But now the harvest had passed. The grapes had been picked, sorted, crushed and bottled for sale and for the most part the winery would remain dormant until the spring.

  A part of Robert was sorry he’d waited so late in the year to come back. As a child the harvest had been his favorite part of the year. He’d loved the activity, the organized chaos that went into getting everything done. Harvest time was a demanding process and with the small staff of La Bohemia it required everyone to pitch in and do their part, including the children.

  He could see himself, Diana and Shawn carrying the heavy buckets of grapes into the winery. More than once, he’d tried to take Diana’s bucket after watching her struggle to carry something as large as her own body. But she’d always refused to hand it over; always insisted on carrying it herself. And despite his doubt, she’d made it every time. Looking back, that experience should’ve warned him of her stubbornness and pride. It was equal to his own.

  The faint smell of tobacco drifted toward him and he realized that while he was lost in memory, Oscar had fired up a cigar. Robert glanced at the older man and smiled. “Oscar, after all this time, you’re still too cheap to toss out a used cigar?”

  Oscar frowned. “Why should I?” He looked at the stubby, half-smoked cigar about the length of a thumb. “It’s still good. Besides, I don’t believe in waste.”