Love, Lies & Mistletoe

by Jennifer Snow

  “Care to reevaluate our compatibility?” he asked, sounding more than a little annoyed at the outcome of his test.

  She was in trouble. The stars could say what they wanted, but Jake’s compatibility test said so much more.

  * * *

  “HOW CAN THEY close a Starbucks?” Heather stared wide-eyed at the sign on the door three hours later. “I assumed Starbucks were like churches—always open and there when you need them.”

  Jacob leaned over and read the notice. “Says they’re closed due to flooding,” he said, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them for heat. The forecasted snow had started, and the temperature seemed to have dropped ten degrees since they’d left Brookhollow. Even the Sixth Avenue skyscrapers looked frosty, and rather than block the violent wind ripping through his jacket, the buildings seemed to channel it.

  They climbed back into the car, and Heather sighed. “Great.”

  “Can’t you change in the bathroom at the Highstone Acquisitions office?” he asked, cranking the heat.

  “No. How lame would that be? I’ll walk in dressed like this, announce I’m there to see Mike Ainsley, and then ask if they have a bathroom I can use to prepare?”

  He wasn’t seeing the problem, but he shrugged. “You’re right. Crazy idea.” He shook his head. His sister was correct; he’d never understand women.

  “I’m just going to have to change in the backseat,” she said, climbing out and quickly getting in the back.

  Was she serious?

  “Promise me you won’t look,” she said, already reaching for the hem of her tank top.

  “Oh, no. Definitely not,” he mumbled, opening the door. “I’ll wait out here, try to block a window for you or something.” He was only a man. There was no way he could sit in the car while she changed her clothes without sneaking a peek.

  Shivering, he leaned against the back door, using his body to block the view of Heather getting changed from people walking past.

  Standing on the busy streets, he felt more relaxed than he had in months. He missed the city, craved it even, and he prayed he could get back here soon. Months away from everything familiar, the place he’d grown up in and barely ever left, was far too long. It was worse than when he’d been undercover, because at least then he’d been able to stay in New York. He might have been pretending to be someone he wasn’t, but the city, his surroundings, had all remained the same.

  Down the street, a family stopped among the dense crowds gathered in front of the Macy’s holiday window display—a winter wonderland theme with mannequins posed inside large inflatable snow globes, and he sighed. He took Kyle shopping there every year to buy a present for his mom. It was already December, and so far, he’d heard nothing about the court case and still no word from Emilio. He didn’t think their annual shopping trip would be happening this year.

  Nor would the skating at Rockefeller Center or the horse-drawn carriage rides through Central Park. He wondered if Heather would partake in those holiday activities again, once she was back here...and with whom?

  “Okay, I’m ready,” she said, opening the door he was leaning against, pushing him out of the way to clamber out.

  “I think you only showed your butt to about—” He stopped as he took her in. In skinny jeans and boots, Heather was a knockout; in yoga pants and tank top, she was nearly irresistible. But dressed in a gray pencil skirt and jacket, the lace of a red camisole revealed at the top, she knocked him on his butt.

  “You were saying?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.

  He did a quick scan down to the six-inch black heels she wore, then he quickly averted his gaze. Who knew what he was saying? He could barely remember his own name right now. And that was not good. Not good at all. He had to pull it together. “You look...fine.”

  “Would you hire me?”

  He’d do more than just hire her. He nodded. “Without a doubt. You got this.”

  She licked her lips and let out a deep breath. “Thanks, Jake. I really appreciate it. I need this job.”

  Right. This job. The one that would take her away from Brookhollow, away from him...and right before Christmas, a holiday he’d been dreading. Spending it by himself now seemed even more lonely and depressing. “You’ll get it.” He checked his watch. “But you said this guy is a clock-watcher, right?”

  Her eyes widened. “What time is it?”

  “Three minutes to ten. Hope you can run in...” He moved away and gestured to her heels, but she was already sprinting down Sixth Avenue. “Impressive.” He was in trouble.

  * * *

  HEATHER STOPPED FOR a breath outside of the office two and a half minutes later. If Ainsley’s clock was fast, she was doomed. She hadn’t exactly factored in being hauled over by police, or a make-out session, or having to change into an impossibly tight pencil skirt in the cramped backseat of a car. But she doubted she should mention any of those things to her potential new boss.

  She walked into the reception area, where two young women sat behind a desk, headsets on, taking incoming calls. Heather waited for one of them to end her call and glance at her.

  “Hi, I’m Heather Corbett. I have an interview with Mike Ainsley Sr. at ten o’clock.”

  The blonde swiveled in her chair to check the large wooden clock on the wall behind her beneath the Highstone Acquisitions sign.

  “I’m on time,” Heather insisted quickly. Gone were the days at Clarke and Johnston when she could stroll in whenever she felt like it. Dating the boss had really enabled her non-morning-person habits, if nothing else. Oh, well, she could be a morning person. She just had to try harder. This new position—this new start—would be worth it. Besides, Mr. Ainsley had mentioned a lot of travel, so at least she wouldn’t be in the office much... No, that wasn’t the right way to go into this position. Attitude-check time. Unlike at Clarke and Johnston, where she’d relied on her relationship with her boss to keep her employed, this time she was going to work hard and get the better cases on her own merit.

  “Please, fill this out and I’ll let him know you’re here,” the receptionist said, typing a mile a minute.

  “I, uh...submitted a résumé already,” she said, scanning the three-page application. Mr. Ainsley had all of this info already. Couldn’t she just write See Résumé across the front?

  “Yeah, he probably hasn’t read that. And HR will need all of this filled out if you do get the job.” She didn’t sound confident that Heather would. “So, just fill this one out,” she said, answering another call.

  Heather smiled politely as she carried the clipboard over to a dark leather couch. But a second later, the woman stood and said, “Heather, he says he’s ready for you now. You can just head down the hall—his office is the last one on the right. Oh, and be careful when you open the office door,” she said.

  Heather frowned as she stood. “Be careful opening the door?” she asked, but the woman had answered the phone again and had gone back to ignoring her. “Okay, then,” she mumbled, walking toward Mr. Ainsley’s room.

  The offices on either side were composed of glass walls, and each side had a different yet fantastic view of the city. Each had a large mahogany desk and leather chairs, bookshelves built into the walls, small sofas near the window and wall-mounted fireplaces. Cozy and inviting, but professional. Her excitement rose. She’d missed this: the high-powered career, the beautiful offices in a high-rise in the most exciting city in the world, the sea of yellow taxis on the streets below and the crowds of people rushing from one place to another, lattes in hand.

  She’d been missing the city, but she hadn’t realized just how much until she was here, remembering everything it had to offer—success, fulfillment and excitement. And takeout at any hour.

  When she reached Mr. Ainsley’s office, she glanced in through the glass but didn’t see the man at his de
sk. She knocked.

  “Come in,” he called.

  Slowly, carefully, she opened the door.

  Mike Ainsley Sr. stood on a step stool on the other side, hanging bright red garland on the wall above the door. He struggled to reach the far corner.

  “Hi, I’m Heather Corbett,” she said.

  He glanced at her and nodded. “Perfect. You’re tall.”

  Huh?

  He climbed down from the step stool, letting the piece of garland dangle. “Would you mind hanging this? Just secure it in that far corner.”

  Was he for real? He wanted her help decorating his office? They hadn’t even shaken hands yet.

  Well, whatever it took to get the job... Within reason this time, of course. “Sure.” She handed him the clipboard. “Sorry, I just got here, so this isn’t filled out yet.”

  “That’s why you should always plan to arrive at least ten minutes early,” he said, setting it aside.

  She carefully climbed onto the top rung of the ladder, reaching for the end of the garland. Ten minutes early? She’d driven all the way from New Jersey...give her a break. Maybe she should have driven out earlier...but she’d wanted to throw the party for Jake. “Yes...you’re right,” she said politely, remembering her commitment to changing her outlook on her career. She easily reached the corner and fastened the garland in place, noticing the rest of it lying on his sofa, along with Christmas tree decorations and window hangings. Please, don’t let him ask me to decorate his entire office, she thought as she climbed back down. “There you are.”

  “Great, thank you,” he said, and to her relief he went around his desk and sat, gesturing at the chair across from him. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you. Beautiful offices.”

  “We like to make our staff comfortable, since they work long hours when they aren’t traveling.”

  She sat. “Thank you again for seeing me.”

  “Your brother-in-law gave you a high recommendation,” he said, reaching for a file folder of résumés on his desk.

  “He really enjoys working here. He’s told me nothing but good things about the company.” Of course, she’d always countered that Clarke and Johnston was better...but her opinion may have been clouded at the time.

  “He’s one of our best agents.” Mr. Ainsley scanned her résumé. “So your last position was with Clarke and Johnston Acquisitions almost two years ago—is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what have you been doing since you left there?”

  “Actually, I took a little break from the city for a while. I’ve been helping to run a B and B and a local pool hall in Brookhollow, New Jersey.” She hoped her work ethic showed, if nothing else. She wished the gap after the job at Clarke and Johnston hadn’t been so long; she could have fudged the dates a little.

  “A B and B and a pool hall...” He said the words as if something didn’t add up.

  Probably because they didn’t. She couldn’t believe how her life had been going for the past year and a half; how could she expect this man to? She swallowed hard. “Well, opportunities in the small town are limited, but I’m a hard worker and dedicated—”

  The office door opened, and she almost sighed in relief to have her desperate explanation cut short. She turned to see a younger man walk in.

  “Hi. Sorry to interrupt. Dad, Amy said you were looking for me,” he said, his gaze locked on Heather.

  Dad. Mike Ainsley Jr. The complete opposite of his father: tall, muscular and handsome. And judging by his confident smile, Armani shoes and faux hawk—which was almost inappropriate for an office, yet somehow seemed as professional as his designer suit—he knew it.

  “Yes, I was. I needed you to hang something, but Heather was kind enough to do it,” Mike Sr. said. “But since you’re here, why don’t you join us? This is Heather Corbett, Rob Ashley’s sister-in-law. She’s interviewing for the acquisitions position opening in the new year.”

  “Oh, great. Rob mentioned you would be stopping by. Nice to meet you,” Mike Jr. said, coming closer and extending a hand.

  “You, too,” she said, feeling her nervousness grow. An interview was intimidating enough; being interviewed by two men, one of whom looked like a GQ model, was deeply unnerving.

  The younger executive pushed the holiday decorations to one side of the sofa and sat.

  Mike Sr. glanced at her résumé once more. “Where were we?”

  Heather remained silent. No sense reminding him of her current irrelevant employment status.

  “Right, your work experience. What were your reasons for leaving Clarke and Johnston?”

  Oh, no. She’d known that one was coming. She also knew there was no point in lying. Mr. Ainsley had probably already heard the answer. Staff changeover was high in this industry, and agents moved around—they talked. “I was fired,” she said, slowly.

  He frowned. “Rob said you took a leave of absence.”

  Crap. “Oh...well, that’s probably what I told him...” Her cheeks flamed. “I mean, who wants to admit to their family they were fired, right?”

  He frowned and scratched his forehead.

  Mike Jr. coughed behind her.

  “I mean, especially given the circumstances...” Oh, this was not going well. Stupid Rob. He should have told her he’d lied on her behalf. Now they both looked like morons.

  “Why were you let go?” Mike Jr. asked behind her.

  This kept getting better and better. She should just thank them for their time and leave now. Her palms were sweaty as she clutched them together on her lap and willed her knees to stop shaking.

  No. She wanted this job. She hesitated before answering. Honesty was always the best policy, right? She’d soon find out. She turned in her chair so she could see both men. “Well... Mel Clarke, my former boss, said it was due to numbers not being as high...”

  Mike Sr. sat back in his chair, and his expression changed to one of disinterest.

  “B-but that wasn’t the real reason, I assure you. My numbers were just as high as anyone else’s. He fired me because he’d dumped me the same week, and it was awkward working together,” she said quickly. There, the truth was out.

  Mike Sr. sat forward again, his expression now unreadable. He folded his hands and studied her. She refused to even glance at Mike Jr.

  In the brief, awkward silence that followed, her heart echoed in her ears. This was a disaster. How was she ever going to secure a new position in acquisitions with her previous history? The two-year break was bad enough, and the fact that she’d been fired from her most recent relevant position didn’t bode well, especially when she had to decide whether to tell the truth or let them assume she wasn’t capable of the job. A no-win situation that she had no one to blame for but herself.

  “You were in a relationship with your boss?” Mike Sr. asked finally.

  “Yes.” Her shoulders slumped.

  “And he fired you and dumped you in the same week?”

  “Yes.”

  “What a jerk,” the older man said.

  Heather’s head shot up in surprise, but Mike, Sr. was already scanning her résumé again.

  “So, how much travel did you do before?” he asked.

  She sat straighter. They were moving on? The interview wasn’t over? “Oh...um...about fifty percent,” she said, her confidence returning. If her dismissal and relationship with her boss weren’t deal-breakers, maybe she would get this position after all.

  “And you’re willing to do that again? No family obligations in the way?”

  An image of Jake flashed briefly in her mind before she punched it in the face. “No, sir. None.”

  * * *

  JACOB JUMPED AT the sound of the passenger-door handle snapping what felt like only seconds after he’d cl
osed his eyes. Heart pounding, he straightened quickly and reached across to unlock the door. A shivering Heather climbed into the car.

  “I swear it’s even colder out there now than it was when we got here. Brrrrr!”

  Reaching into the backseat, he grabbed her jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “So, how did it go?” A quick glance at the time on the dash revealed she’d actually been at Highstone Acquisitions for more than an hour. Hopefully that meant it had gone well.

  Hopefully? Of course hopefully.

  While she’d been inside, he’d come to the conclusion that Heather moving back to the city was ultimately a good thing, and the sooner, the better. He couldn’t afford any distractions or unwanted complications. When Emilio called, Jacob was moving in. And there was no predicting how that bust would go. He and Heather would both be much better off once she was gone.

  “Good, I think,” she said, sliding her arms inside the coat. “I can never tell... I mean it started off awkward, but then it got better... I think.” She bit her lip. “I don’t know.”

  “I’m sure you did great.”

  Her forehead wrinkled, and she looked about to say something, but for once her lips remained shut.

  For all of nine seconds.

  “You’re not bothered by this? Me getting a job in the city...leaving Brookhollow?” she blurted out.

  Jacob sighed. He was making a mess of things. His actions must seem crazy to her. His flirting, his kissing and then his support and encouragement about the job. How could he explain it when he really didn’t fully understand it himself? “The thing is, even if you were staying, you said it yourself—I’m not a relationship guy. My job makes it...hard to get close to people.”

  “Maybe when you were in New York, but in Brookhollow? It should be a little easier now, right?”

  He hesitated. “Maybe... I don’t know. But either way—you’re leaving, right?”

  She nodded.

  He checked his watch. “We should get on the road...we could stop for food if you want, or coffee...” He was hungry, and he knew he should probably eat before starting the drive back. He pulled the car back out into the sea of traffic.