by Lyn Gardner
Laughing at the sight of the woman’s blush, Jamie asked, “You always stare like that?”
“Actually, I don’t, but I was trying to figure out how a person like you could ever work with Ted Phelan.”
“A person like me?”
“Well, it’s obvious that Phelan considers himself a ladies’ man and looking the way you do—”
The words died in Diana’s throat when a devastating smile instantly appeared on Jamie’s face, and as if that wasn’t enough, when Jamie added a raised eyebrow and a slight tilt of her head, Diana’s entire body tingled. The look was playful, but it was also sexy. It was beyond sexy.
Praying that her cheeks weren’t the color of the wine in her glass, Diana decided the only course of action was nonchalance…and more wine. After taking a healthy swallow of the Syrah, she simply said, “What I mean is, I would think that you’d be fighting him off every day. That’s all.”
“Thanks for the compliment, but you’ve got a few things wrong,” Jamie said, softening her smile.
“Such as?”
“Well, first, I don’t work with Phelan. He handles criminal law, and I handle corporate.”
“Aren’t they the same thing?”
With a grin, Jamie replied, “I suppose at times they can be, but my specialty is contracts and his is… well, his is keeping criminals out of jail.”
“Why would he want to do that?”
“Because there are a lot of people who will pay a lot of money not to go to prison, and even though Phelan can be an ass at times, he knows the law like the back of hand. He knows where all the loopholes are, and he’s a master at knowing precedents and setting them.
And he can cast such a large shadow of doubt over evidence presented, that even the criminal starts believing that they didn’t commit the crime.”
“You sound like you respect him.”
Pausing for a moment, Jamie said, “I respect the man’s knowledge, but not the man, if that makes sense.”
“Does he respect you?”
“No,” Jamie said with a snort.
“Why not?”
“Because Phelan’s work takes him down into the trenches, and mine takes me to elevators leading to the fortieth floor.”
“Oh, I see,” Diana said, taking a sip of wine. “But Gwen said you do a lot of pro bono work.”
Hearing the familiar name, Jamie blanched. “Oh, Christ, please tell me you’re not one of Phelan’s clients.”
“What? Why would you think that?”
“You just mentioned Gwen, and I’m assuming you mean Gwen Fowler.”
“I do.”
“She works in Ted’s division.”
“And she’s also my best friend. Her husband is out of town, so she asked me to be her escort tonight.”
“Oh, thank God,” Jamie said, emptying what was left in her glass in one swallow. “That’s why I hate coming to these things. You never know who you’re talking to, and you can easily wind up putting your foot in your mouth.”
“Is that something you do often?”
“What’s that?”
“Put your foot in your mouth?”
“No, it only seems to happen when I find myself in the company of a beautiful woman.”
While she was in no way offended by the words Jamie had spoken, Diana found herself struggling to respond.
Having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that she took pleasure knowing Jamie found her attractive, Diana’s confusion showed in her expression.
Misreading the look on Diana’s face, Jamie quickly said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
A strange feeling washed over Diana, and although she was confused by it, the wine had warmed her blood enough to lower her inhibitions just a tad. Raising her eyes to meet Jamie’s, in the sexiest voice she could produce, Diana asked, “Why, don’t you think I’m beautiful?”
It was all Jamie could do not grunt out loud at the feeling of her libido coming to life between her legs.
Her attendance had been mandatory.
Arriving on time, she had been met by Phelan at the door and then allowed herself to be led around the room, shaking the hands of men she loathed. It was an act, and both Phelan and she knew it, but it was required, and in a few weeks, he would return the favor.
Such was their relationship. It was a co-existence necessary in order to keep their firm on the top ten list, and while there was no love lost between them, neither would allow their disdain for each other to damage the company their families had started decades before.
Deciding that three hours would be enough time to fulfill her obligation to Phelan, Willoughby and Nash, Jamie staked her claim at the end of the bar and waited patiently for the clock to strike ten. Rarely looking up from her wine glass, she didn’t notice Diana Clarke until she walked outside for a smoke.
Somewhat surprised to see a woman in attendance wearing a simple black knit dress, rather than something glitzy and two sizes too small, when she noticed Diana shivering in the cold night air, Jamie didn’t think twice before lending the woman her jacket. She had no ulterior motive, and no strings were attached to the comfort that she offered.
It was a simple gesture of friendship to a faceless stranger in need. It was, in fact, the essence of Jamie Nash, but when Diana turned around and Jamie found herself looking at the most beautiful woman she had ever seen in her life, her plan to leave the party precisely at ten went straight out the window.
Taking a sip of wine, Jamie mentally scolded her lower half for not behaving itself. Up until that moment, the mood had been playful and friendly, and Jamie didn’t want it to change. Sensing just a hint of whimsy in Diana’s provocative tone, Jamie lowered her eyes and allowed them to travel slowly up Diana’s body. When her eyes met Diana’s, Jamie said, “You’ll do, I suppose.”
Tossing back her head, Diana burst out laughing, and the sound of her mirth brought yet another smile to Jamie’s face.
“Well, it sounds like you’re having fun,” Gwen said as she emerged from the crowd. “Good evening, Miss Nash.”
Shaking her head, Jamie said, “Gwen, I’ve told you a dozen times to call me Jamie. Now please, drop the formalities.”
Offering an apologetic smile in Jamie’s direction, Gwen touched Diana on the sleeve. “Phelan is on his way to one hell of a hangover, so we can leave now. He won’t miss me, and even if he does, he won’t remember it in the morning.”
“Oh,” Diana said. “Um…okay.”
“I’m just going to use the bathroom. Meet you out front, all right?”
“Yeah, yeah…I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Good night, Miss…erm…Jamie.”
“Good night, Gwen, and please drive safe,” Jamie said. Watching as Gwen headed for the door, Jamie turned her attention back to Diana. “Well, it seems I need to wish you a good night also.”
“I’m sorry,” Diana said. “I was hoping we’d have more time to talk.”
“So was I,” Jamie said softly.
“Um…well, I best go find Gwen,” Diana said, finishing the wine in her glass. “Thank you for the wine and the use of your jacket.”
Although tempted to offer Diana a ride home, Jamie didn’t want to assume anything. A lighthearted chat was one thing, but presuming that the woman wanted anything more than just friendly conversation, was quite another. Not allowing her disappointment to creep into the tone of her voice, Jamie said lightly, “It was my pleasure.”
Flashing Jamie a toothy grin, Diana turned to walk away, but when she felt Jamie’s hand on her arm, she stopped dead in her tracks. Swallowing hard at the feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach, Diana turned back around.
“I was wondering, if…if you might be escorting Gwen to Lillian’s party next week?” Jamie asked.
“To tell you the truth, I wasn’t planning on it, but I think I’ve changed my mind.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Do you really need to?” Diana said.
Not waiting for Jamie to answer, Diana flashed another quick smile before making her way through the crowd.
When she finally reached the large archway which led back to the entrance hall, Diana was greeted by a very smug and a very drunk Theodore Phelan.
“Not so fast,” he said with a sneer, holding out his arm to block her escape.
“You’re not going anywhere, yet.”
Forced to come to an abrupt halt, Diana said, “Pardon me?”
“You owe me a kiss,” Phelan said, looking down his nose at her.
Taking a step back, Diana stiffened.
“Excuse me?”
Pointing above her head, he said, “I don’t know who put it there, but since they did, I intend to take full advantage of it.”
Looking up, when Diana saw the sprig of mistletoe, she blanched. Trying to think of something to say, she paused for a second, and then a familiar voice rang out.
“In your dreams, Phelan,” Jamie said, striding to the doorway. “Now let her pass.”
Keeping his voice low so that others wouldn’t hear, Phelan leaned in and said, “This is my house, Nash, not yours.
And since this is my Christmas party and that goddamn weed is hanging over my doorway, tradition dictates that this lovely lady doesn’t leave until she gets kissed.”
Jamie watched as Phelan looked back at Diana, hungrily licking his lips in anticipation, but before he could make his move, Jamie made hers.
Reaching over, she slipped her hand behind Diana’s neck and pulled her close. Jamie’s intention was only to satisfy tradition with a mere brush of her lips, but once they touched Diana’s, tradition was quickly forgotten.
It happened so fast that by the time Diana realized that Jamie was about to kiss her, their lips were already touching. The scent of the cologne which Diana had admired from afar now filled her nostrils, and spellbound, Diana closed her eyes and allowed the kiss to continue.
Jamie was in trouble. There was no doubt about it. The kiss should have only lasted for a second, or maybe two, but they were well past five and rapidly heading toward ten or twenty. Jamie knew that she should pull away. She was stepping way over the line with a woman she had just met, but oh, what a woman. Diana’s lips were the softest that Jamie had ever touched, and her flavor was more intoxicating than the finest of wines. For a few seconds more, Jamie allowed herself to get lost in the heady rush of their first kiss.
With a heavy heart, Jamie finally pulled away, and as Diana opened her eyes, Jamie looked over at Phelan.
“Consider her kissed. Now, let her pass.”
Slack-jawed, Phelan backed away from the door, and without saying a word, Diana walked out.
~~~
As a fire danced in the hearth, Santa sat behind his desk, sipping hot chocolate. Taking another letter from the pile stacked to his right, he smiled as he read what was written. Checking the list displayed on his computer, he made yet another notation in the Nice column and then entered the child’s wish. Placing the note aside, he picked up the next, but stopped when he heard the tinkling of bells. Looking up, he grinned when he saw Percy Giggly-Legs appear in the doorway.
“There you are. It was getting a bit late. I was starting to worry,” Santa said.
“It took longer than expected, sir,” Percy said, shuffling over to the desk.
Catching a whiff of his lead elf, Santa’s eyes flew open. “Percy! You smell like you spent the night in a distillery.”
“Oh, yes, sir…I mean…I mean, no sir. Mr. Phelan’s house was filled with people drinking and smoking. I couldn’t get away from it and still do my job.”
“I see,” Santa said, eyeing the elf.
“And did you?”
“No, sir. Not a drop…well, maybe a splash, but it wasn’t my fault. Honest.”
Shaking his head, Santa looked over the top of his reading glasses. “Percy, I was talking about the mistletoe.”
“Oh,” Percy replied as a slight blush crossed his cheeks.
“So, tell me, how did it go?”
Hanging his head, Percy said, “I don’t think it worked, sir.”
“What do you mean? What happened?”
“Well, I did as you told me, and hung the mistletoe where Miss Diana would be sure to walk under it, but when Mr. Phelan tried to kiss her, she refused.”
“Mr. Phelan?”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Theodore Phelan. He was the host of the party tonight.”
Turning to his computer, Santa tapped away at the keys. Running a search in his Naughty and Nice database, his brow furrowed when he saw the amount of times that little Teddy Phelan had appeared on the Naughty side of the list. Looking over at the elf, Santa said, “Percy, I’m not sure Mr. Phelan was supposed to be the one who kissed Miss Diana tonight.”
“No?”
“Definitely not,” Santa said, shaking his head.
“I’m glad, sir.”
“You are?”
“Yes, sir. I didn’t like Mr. Phelan very much.”
“By the sounds of it, neither did Miss Diana.”
“No, sir. She was actually quite determined about not being kissed by him, sir.”
“So, are you saying that no one kissed Miss Diana under our mistletoe?”
“Um…no, sir,” Percy said quietly.
Pulling a piece of paper from his pocket, he handed it to Santa. “The lady’s name is Jamison Nash. I wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget it.”
“A lady?”
Blushing slightly, Percy nodded his head. “Yes, sir.”
Placing his finger to the side of his nose, Santa thought for a moment before he said with a smile, “I see.”
“Santa?”
Looking up from the paper in his hand, Santa said, “Yes, Percy.”
“Does this mean that Miss Diana is like Humphrey Sweet-Cheeks and Egbert Jelly-Belly?”
With a chuckle, Santa nodded his head. “I think so, yes.”
“I like Humphrey and Egbert, sir,” Percy said, his entire face spreading into a smile.
“So do I.”
Chapter Three
Linda Burke flicked on the lights in the outer office as she strolled into the room. Noticing that light was streaming from under the door leading to Jamie’s office, she glanced at the coffee pot and smiled. Setting down her handbag and coat, she turned on her computer, looked at the papers stacked on her desk, and then walked over to fill two mugs with coffee. Tapping lightly on Jamie’s door, she opened it and walked inside.
Theirs was a unique relationship. It had begun with an impromptu game of hide-and-seek when a very impatient six-year-old was waiting for her father to get off the phone, and over the years, their friendship continued to grow.
Having worked as Sebastian Nash’s secretary for almost thirty years, Linda had been able to watch Jamie grow from a small knobby-kneed child into a woman, confident and beautiful. Linda had attended Jamie’s birthday parties and her graduations, and the pride that filled Linda’s chest when Jamie graduated from law school at the top of her class, equaled that of a parent.
When Sebastian decided to take an early retirement, and Jamie assumed his role as acting partner, her first priority was to offer Linda the role of her assistant, and Linda leapt at the chance.
With years of history to draw upon, and a friendship that was strong and sound, they were two acting as one, and the envy of many who worked at Phelan, Willoughby and Nash.
“Good morning. How was your trip?” Linda chirped.
Looking up from her desk, Jamie smiled back. “It was long, but lucrative,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. “I put the contracts on your desk. You just need to make the corrections I noted in the margins, and then I’ll initial them, and we can send them along.”
“I already saw them, and you’ll have them back within the hour,” Linda said as she handed Jamie one of the mugs of coffee. Noticing that she was studying her appointment calendar for the month, Linda leaned over to take a look.
&nb
sp; Accustomed to seeing every day filled up with meetings, conference calls and the like, when she saw that the next few weeks had almost nothing etched in stone, Linda said, “A bit sparse, isn’t it?”
“It’s that time of the year,” Jamie said, leaning back in her chair. “And since I’m still trying to finalize some things for the party, a few lackluster weeks is just what this party planner needs.”
“Why do I think you’re looking forward to this?”
“Because I am,” Jamie said with a wide smile. “I’m just hoping that Santa Claus is on my side.”
“Don’t you mean, Mother Nature?”
“Yeah, her, too.”
Walking back toward her office, Linda turned and asked, “Oh, by the way, how was Phelan’s party?”
“Let’s see,” Jamie said, pondering her wording. “It was filled with presumably innocent criminals and their not-so-presumably intelligent silicone-breasted floozies. Food was horrid, and Phelan got drunk.”
“Oh dear, he didn’t cause a scene, did he?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Jamie replied. As soon as the words left her mouth, Jamie’s thoughts returned to a woman who had spent the better part of the last four days taking up residence in Jamie’s dreams. A woman with brown eyes and hair the color of espresso, who, when she smiled, displayed the most adorable dimples Jamie had ever seen.
A woman who Jamie did want to handle in ways that made her blush, but unfortunately, she was also a woman who probably never wanted to talk to Jamie again.
Diana had left Phelan’s house without so much as a glance in Jamie’s direction, and a few minutes later, Jamie followed suit. Driving home, she replayed the events of the evening in her mind, and acting as her own judge and jury, Jamie found herself guilty of utter stupidity. She acted without thinking.
She kissed a woman she had only known for a few minutes. She royally fucked up.
Guilty as charged.
Rubbing her neck to relieve the tension that was building, Jamie let out a sigh. All she wanted to do was go back in time and start again. She wanted to return to the friendly banter. She wanted the ease of casual without the weight of something more…but most of all, she wanted Diana Clarke.
