Once Upon a Holiday

by Beverly Jenkins

  Suddenly, Mia’s mouth stretched into a wide smile.

  Candace stopped pacing. “What?”

  Mia started fanning herself with her notebook. “I think I’m about to earn a big bonus,” she sing-songed.

  “Oh?” Candace’s brows leapt upward. “I’ll be the judge of that. Whatcha got?”

  “The address for Walter Anderson’s company Christmas party. Word is that he’ll be in attendance. I figured that you might be up for crashing a party.”

  Candace’s heart raced, but she kept it cool for a few more seconds. “You’re kidding me.”

  Mia shook her head. “Let’s just say I pulled a lot of strings and agreed to a couple of dates I’m going to regret.”

  Candace squealed and raced over and embraced her assistant. Together they bounced up and down as if they’d just won the lottery. Then Candace got a hold of herself and stepped back. “You’re right. You absolutely are going to get that big bonus. Book me on a flight to Paris A-S-A-P.”

  “I’m on it.” Mia pivoted and rushed back to the door but then gasped when she jerked it open and nearly crashed into the massive chest on the other side. “Mr. Starks!”

  “Mia, what have I told you about mentioning that man’s—” Candace glanced up “—name.”

  “Ouch,” Montel said, pressing a hand to his chest. “I think I might be offended.” He glanced off in the distance as if thinking about it. “Yes…I’m pretty sure I’m offended.”

  “Then sadly, you’ve mistaken this as the office of Who-Gives-a-Damn,” said Candace.

  Montel’s head flew back with a hearty laugh. “Careful. I just might fall in love with that wonderful sense of humor of yours.”

  Candace rolled her eyes. “Mia, could you please take care of that thing for me?”

  “Right away.” Mia tried to squeeze past Montel. “Excuse me.”

  He finally stepped aside and allowed her to pass. “Do you have a few minutes?” he asked Candace.

  “No,” Candace said, returning to her desk.

  “No matter. This will just take a few minutes.” He invited himself into the office and shut the door. “I just wanted to apologize about that bit you heard just before the meeting this morning.”

  She rolled her eyes again. What on earth had she done in a previous life to deserve this man torturing her so much? “Forget about it. I know you guys like to get together and gossip.”

  “That’s just it,” he said. “I know it looks bad, but I don’t agree with what some of the men were saying.”

  “Yeah. My favorite part was when you stood up for me,” she said sarcastically. “Such chivalry nearly swept me off my feet.” She turned toward her computer. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to get back to work.”

  “I really didn’t get a chance to say anything to Gerald. You spoke up, remember?” He strolled closer to her desk. When she didn’t respond, he added. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I don’t think that you’re a bitch, Candy.”

  Her gaze jumped up at him. “It’s Candace. And frankly, I don’t care whether you or your playground friends think I’m a bitch.” She cocked her head. “Now—are we through here?” Montel laughed.

  Candace leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “What’s so funny?”

  “You. You’re really a piece of work,” he said, unbuttoning his jacket and taking a seat.

  “Don’t get comfortable,’ she said testily.

  “See?” He gestured toward her. “That’s what I mean. You’ve been cold toward me for a while. I’m not quite sure that I deserve it.”

  “We can either start with you being born or when you invited yourself into my office. You pick.” Candace leveled her gaze with his. It was a dangerous thing to do, given that his dark, sensual eyes had a way of drawing in his prey. Not to mention that every other minute, he habitually ran his tongue across his full lips—making them glisten and call out her name.

  “Can’t we all just get along?” Montel suggested. “After all, one of us is going to be the other’s boss pretty soon. It only seems logical that we clear whatever…misunderstanding there is between us.”

  “Misunderstanding?” Candace cocked her head. “I thought I was making it very clear that I don’t like you.”

  “Liar.” Montel’s brows stretched upward while his smile stretched wider. “In fact, I’m willing to bet that you’re still in love with me.”

  Candace’s mouth clamped down tight as she shivered in her seat.

  “Ah. Cat got your tongue?” he inquired, standing. “Have I finally hit on the truth of the matter?” Montel started walking around the desk.

  Alarm bells rang in her head. “What are you doing?” She eyed him suspiciously.

  “I’m just curious,” he said, propping a hip on her desk, and then he leaned so close she was sure he could smell the spearmint gum tucked in the back of her cheek. “How much longer are you going to keep this act up?”

  Candace’s eyes drifted close as her breath seemed to stall in her chest.

  “You still like how I do this?”

  She turned her head but didn’t pull away, which allowed for Montel’s hand to cup and caress the side of her face.

  Taking full advantage of her collapsing defenses, Montel leaned forward and pressed his full lips against her perfectly glossed lips. Her soft moan made him hard and ready for whatever.

  Candace’s mind hit the mute button on those alarm bells that were trying to ruin the moment. Right now she just wanted to bask in the feel of Montel’s soft lips. One thing that was as true now as it was the night they had met was that this fine devil could kiss like nobody’s business.

  Montel’s confidence kicked up a notch when he saw the raw desire flickering in her cinnamon-brown eyes. For the past year, he had loved giving the sexy no-nonsense businesswoman a run for her money. Their occasional verbal sparring was fun and, at times like these, it turned him on. He’d sensed that it was the same for her, and now he had proof. He also knew that Candy would rather die than admit it.

  He pulled her up from her chair and directed her to stand in between his legs. That was an even bigger mistake because it left him free to roam his hands over her thick curves and settle them on each ass cheek. “Damn. You still feel so good,” he murmured against her lips.

  “I bet you still feel good in other places, too.”

  Before she could even process what he was saying, Candace found herself turned around and her breasts pressed against the cold floor-to-ceiling window, with her skirt up over her waist and Montel easing in between her legs from the back. She gasped aloud, her warm breath steaming up the window.

  “Shh,” he warned. “Unless you want Mia coming in here and seeing who this pussy still belongs to.”

  Candace bit her lower lip and kept her voice down to soft moans and whispers.

  Montel dove his head into her curtain of vanilla-and-coconut scented hair and stretched a hand down in between the soft V of curls between her legs so that he could drum his fingertips against her throbbing clit.

  “Tell me how much you hate me now,” he dared. “Tell me how much you hate what I’m doing to you right now.”

  Candace gulped, swallowed and gasped. No way could she manage to get such a huge lie through her lips when she was seconds away from coating his dick with a gallon of honey.

  Montel’s mocking laughter was a bit humiliating but the tiny waves of pleasure that rippled up from the walls of her pussy to the tips of her nipples made it all worthwhile.

  “Ah. Ah.”

  “What, baby? You want to say something?” His hips and drumming fingers picked up speed.

  From the corner of Candace’s droopy eyes, she locked gazes with a stunned window washer. He was just one office over, but was taking in the scene as if he’d just been given an early Christmas gift.

  “Ah. Ah.”

  Montel covered her mouth with his free hand and whispered. “That’s it. You better come before Mia waltzes in here. She’s only going
to leave us alone for five minutes.”

  Candace slammed her eyes shut and rammed her ass back on Montel’s dick with as much zeal and gusto as she could muster. “C’mon, baby. C’mon.”

  Four strokes, two drums later and Montel was swallowing her cry of release in a soul-stirring kiss that reflected the true passion that still existed between the two of them. Montel pulled his lips away from hers and smiled. “If this is how you hate me, then I’m curious to see how you act when you finally realize that you still love me.”

  Chapter 3

  Mia kept casting nervous glances toward the closed door as she printed out Candace’s Delta airline tickets and itinerary. One didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that it wasn’t a good idea to leave those two alone for long. A few other office girls waltzed by, mouthing, “Is he still in there?” to which she would just nod and fret.

  As office pools went, there was growing speculation that there was something more to the top two ad executives’ visceral dislike for one another. “Something” meaning sexual. Mia had done her damnedest to convince everyone that nothing could be further from the truth, but the more she denied it, the more people believed the opposite.

  Then it came time for her to put her money where her mouth was. The bet was simply whether Candace and Montel would sleep together by the end of the year. One hundred bucks. It seemed like an easy bet at the time, but lately she wasn’t too sure. And now that every assistant and receptionist had jumped into the pool, she stood to lose or win a small fortune. Now that they were cruising into the final month—the homestretch—she was as nervous as cat on a hot tin roof.

  Mia snatched the itinerary from the printer’s tray and bolted toward Candace’s door to conduct an immediate emergency intervention. “Ms. Lahane, I have…” She froze at seeing Candace and Montel leaning so close that either they were about to kiss or had just finished kissing—or something.

  Montel sprung away from Candace’s desk as if the sucker had just caught fire. “I guess that’s my cue to leave,” he said.

  Candace simply leaned back in her chair and slowly crossed her legs. “Guess so, since English seems to be a challenge for you.”

  “Cute.” Casually, he strolled from around her desk and headed for the door. “We’ll continue this conversation at another time.” He smiled and winked at Mia. “She’s all yours.”

  Candace rolled her eyes, but her heart didn’t stop racing until he’d finally walked out of her office. “Smug bastard,” she mumbled under her breath as she withdrew a small mirror from her purse and checked her appearance. “Thanks for coming in—though next time don’t leave him in here longer than two minutes.”

  Slowly, Mia started to relax. “Sooo…nothing happened?”

  Candace’s face twisted. “What do you mean?”

  Mia realized that it was an inappropriate question, but she drove ahead anyway. “I mean, it just looked like, um—”

  “Oh, please! Never in a million years.” Candace waved her off, but then looked around. “What’s with the heater? It’s burning up in here.”

  Uh-oh. “I’ll, um, get maintenance to check on it.” Mia approached her desk. “I’ve booked you on a six-fifteen flight out of JFK Airport. I called your housekeeper and asked for her to pack a bag for you. When your driver picks you up this afternoon, he’ll have your bag.”

  “Walter Anderson,” Candace said, smiling again. “I’m definitely going to have to bring my A game for this one.” The president of Anderson Vytex, Anderson, had long been considered a flamboyant and eccentric billionaire who owned everything from casinos to clothing lines. For six months every advertising agency in New York had been dying to land his lucrative account ever since he’d split with Elige.

  Everyone.

  “You’ll do great. I have faith in you,” she said encouragingly and quickly made her way out of the office. Back at her desk, everyone in her line of vision gave her an inquiring look, to which she just gave them a small shake of her head. There were looks of both relief and disappointment directed her way, but she kept it moving and headed toward the bathroom.

  When she came out of the stall to wash her hands, her best friend, Vicki, was leaning against the sink. “What? Did they send you in here to get the 4-1-1?” Mia pumped soap into her hands and turned on the water.

  Vicki smiled and pushed a lock of her blond hair behind her ear. “You know the drill, so spill it.”

  “There’s nothing to tell. When I walked in, they weren’t doing anything lurid, if that’s what you want to know.”

  “Lurid?” Vicki rolled the word around. “That might be a little strong. How about something a little more subtle?”

  “No,” she said shaking her. “No. Nothing at all. They weren’t doing anything, really.”

  Ever the detective, Vicki cocked her head. “Now why do I get the feeling that you’re not telling me something?”

  “Because you’re paranoid.” Mia shut off the water and then reached for the paper towels. “Candace was relieved that I interrupted them and now she’s preparing for an important meeting in Paris tomorrow.”

  “Paris? She’s spending the holidays there?”

  “Better.” Mia lit up and glanced around to make sure that they were alone. “I found him.”

  Vicki inched closer. “Found who?”

  “Walter Anderson.”

  “Anderson Vytex’s Walter Anderson?” Vicki asked in awe. “How in the hell did you find him? The man is like a ghost.”

  “I know. I really caught a lucky break. She’s heading out on a six-fifteen flight this afternoon. She lands this account and that promotion belongs to us.”

  “Damn. That sounds like a reason to celebrate. You want to hit Olivia for happy hour?”

  “Hell, yeah. I’m going to need it.” They laughed and headed out of the bathroom.

  After the door clicked closed, Georgine lowered her feet back down onto the tiled floor in the last stall in the bathroom and tried to process everything that she’d just heard. Candace Lahane was flying to Paris to meet with Walter Anderson. She and Montel had been trying for months to locate that man.

  She quickly rushed out of the stall, washed her hands and then sprinted across the office to find her boss. “Montel, thank God you’re in here.”

  “There you are, Georgine.” Montel glanced up from his stack of papers on his desk. “I need you to get Jessie Glover on the line. It’s time to get him off the fence and sign his restaurant chain. That’s a ten million dollar account right there. And then we’ll see about tracking down Richard Leakes. Every dollar is going to count in the next two weeks.”

  “Forget Glover and Leakes,” Georgine said. “You’re going to Paris.”

  Montel frowned. “I am?”

  “Yes.” She turned around and closed the door.

  “And why am I going to Paris?” He leaned back and watched as she approached his desk almost like a giddy teenager.

  “You’re going to meet Walter Anderson.”

  Montel’s eyebrows jumped. “You found him?” He sprung up from his chair and unceremoniously swung her around. “You’re a lifesaver! Do you know what this means? That promotion is as good as ours!”

  “Wait. Wait. Put me down,” she said, feeling a bit breathless.

  “What? What’s the problem?” He picked up a strange vibe and braced himself for the bad news that always accompanied good news.

  “I haven’t tracked down Walter Anderson. Candace has.”

  The wind definitely went out of Montel’s sails. Candace landing the lucrative account meant the death knell. If Candace landed the VP position, no doubt her first order of business would be to kick him out of the door.

  “Hear me out,” Georgine said. “You’ve always said that nothing matters until the client signs on the bottom line.” She held up her hands. “Well, Candace hasn’t signed him yet.”

  Slowly, Montel’s smile returned. “Shrewd thinking.”

  “Thank you.” She folded her a
rms, rather proud of herself.

  His lips quirked up into a smile. “What time is my flight?”

  “Six-fifteen.”

  Usually traffic from Manhattan to the JFK Airport was long and tortuous. Add to the mix Christmas travelers and tourists and you have chaos. Candace also wrestled with the issue that she didn’t really have an official meeting with Walter Anderson but would have to do a sort of ambush presentation in the middle of his company’s Christmas party and hope for the best. It was something she hadn’t done since she’d first entered into advertising, and frankly, it really had her adrenaline pumping. Of course, the cherry on top would be seeing Montel Starks’s face when he learned that she had landed the eccentric billionaire’s account.

  The image made her laugh in the back of the luxury car. When the driver glanced back at her through the rearview mirror, she collected herself and slid on her Gucci shades. Outside her window she watched snow flurries descend and cover her beloved New York. Christmas wasn’t Christmas without the white fluffy stuff. And the white fluffy stuff always reminded her of Christmases long past. Year after year, her single mother had managed to pull off miracles and there would always be gifts under a lopsided plastic tree for her three children.

  Christmas was the only time there had been any peace in their cramped apartment in Brooklyn. The rest of the year they had fought like cats and dogs over everything—whose turn it was to do what chore; whose fault it was that their father had left to start a new family in the neighboring borough of Queens. Nevertheless, her mother had soldiered on through it all. Candace had never seen her cry or get emotional about her dad leaving. She just got up every day and did what she had to do to put food on the table. She was a strong woman—but had never showed any interest in finding love again.

  Candace drew in a deep breath while her brain abruptly shifted gears to her own love life—her own single-minded focus on her career. Sure, there were times loneliness would creep up on her, but for the most part she viewed men as a complication that she couldn’t afford. Besides, what was the point? Men and women didn’t stay together anyway. Her parents were a testimony to that. And if that wasn’t enough, every single one of her girlfriends was either divorced, playing wifey or pretending to be single and satisfied.