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Trading Christmas

Page 21

by Debbie Macomber


  “Only that he didn’t say much about you.”

  Joe was taunting her, dangling bits and pieces of information, waiting for her reaction. She should have known better than to trust him, but she was so anxious to find out what Paul had said that she ignored her pride. “Tell me everything he said,” she demanded, “word for word.”

  Joe had a mouthful of pizza and Cait was left to wait several moments until he swallowed. “I seem to recall he said you explained that the two of us go a long way back.”

  Cait straightened, too curious to hide her interest. “Did he look concerned? Jealous?”

  “Paul? No, if anything, he looked bored.”

  “Bored,” Cait repeated. Her shoulders sagged with defeat. “I swear that man wouldn’t notice me if I pranced around his office naked.”

  “That’s a clever idea, and one that just might work. Maybe you should practice around the house first, get the hang of it. I’d be willing to help you out if you’re serious about this.” He sounded utterly nonchalant, as though she’d suggested subscribing to cable television. “This is what friends are for. Do you need help undressing?”

  Cait took a sip of her wine to hide a smile. Joe hadn’t changed in twenty years. He was still witty and fun-loving and a terrible tease. “Very funny.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t kidding. I’ll pretend I’m Paul and—”

  “You promised you were going to be good.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I will be. Just you wait.”

  Cait could feel the tide of color flow into her cheeks. She quickly lowered her eyes to her plate. “Joe, cut it out. You’re making me blush and I hate to blush. It makes my face look like a ripe tomato.” She lifted her slice of pizza and bit into it, chewing thoughtfully. “I don’t understand you. Every time I think I have you figured out you do something to surprise me.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like yesterday. You invited me to dinner, but I never dreamed you’d take me someplace as elegant as Henry’s. You were the perfect gentleman all evening and then today, you were so…”

  “Low and disgusting.”

  “Exactly.” She nodded righteously. “One minute you’re the picture of charm and culture and the next you’re badgering me with your wisecracks.”

  “I’m a tease, remember?”

  “The problem is I can’t deal with you when I don’t know what to expect.”

  “That’s my charm.” He reached for a second piece of pizza. “Women are said to adore the unexpected in a man.”

  “Not this woman,” she informed him promptly. “I need to know where I stand with you.”

  “A little to the left.”

  “Joe, please, I’m not joking. I can’t have you pulling stunts like you did today. I’ve lived a good, clean life for the past twenty-eight years. Two days with you has ruined my reputation with the company. I can’t walk into the office and hold my head up any longer. I hear people whispering and I know they’re talking about me.”

  “Us,” he corrected. “They’re talking about us.”

  “That’s even worse. If they want to talk about me and a man, I’d rather it was Paul. Just how much longer is this remodeling project going to take, anyway?” As far as Cait was concerned, the sooner Joe and his renegade crew were out of her office, the sooner her life would return to normal.

  “Not too much longer.”

  “At the rate you’re progressing, Webster, Rodale and Missen will have offices on the moon.”

  “Before the end of the year, I promise.”

  “Yes, but just how reliable are your promises?”

  “I’m being good, aren’t I?”

  “I suppose,” she conceded ungraciously, jerking a stack of mail away from Joe as he started to sort through it.

  “What’s this?” Joe asked, rescuing a single piece of paper before it fluttered to the floor.

  “A Christmas list. I’m going shopping tomorrow.”

  “I should’ve known you’d be organized about that, too.” He sounded vaguely insulting.

  “I’ve been organized all my life. It isn’t likely to change now.”

  “That’s why I want you to lighten up a little.” He continued studying her list. “What time are you going?”

  “The stores open at eight and I plan to be there then.”

  “I suppose you’ve written down everything you need to buy so you won’t forget anything.”

  “Of course.”

  “Sounds sensible.” His remark surprised her. He scanned her list, then yelped, “Hey, I’m not on here!” He withdrew a pen from his shirt pocket and added his own name. “Do you want me to give you a few suggestions about what I’d like?”

  “I already know what I’m getting you.”

  Joe arched his brows. “You do? And please don’t say ‘nothing.’”

  “No, but it’ll be something appropriate—like a muzzle.”

  “Oh, Caitlin, darling, you injure me.” He gave her one of his devilish smiles, and Cait could feel herself weakening. Just what she didn’t want! She had every right to be angry with Joe. If he hadn’t brought that pizza, she’d have slammed the door in his face. Wouldn’t she? Sure, she would! But she’d always been susceptible to Italian food. Her only other fault was Paul. She did love him. No one seemed to believe that, but she’d known almost from the moment they’d met that she was destined to spend the rest of her life loving Paul Jamison. Only she’d rather do it as his wife than his employee….

  “Have you finished your shopping?” she asked idly, making small talk with Joe since he seemed determined to hang around.

  “I haven’t started. I have good intentions every year, you know, like I’ll get a head start on finding the perfect gifts for my nieces and nephews, but they never work out. Usually panic sets in Christmas Eve and I tear around the stores like mad and buy everything in sight. Last year I forgot wrapping paper. My mother saved the day.”

  “I doubt it’d do any good to suggest you get organized.”

  “I haven’t got the time.”

  “What are you doing right now? Write out your list, stick to it and make the time to go shopping.”

  “My darling Cait, is this an invitation for me to join you tomorrow?”

  “Uh…” Cait hadn’t intended it to be, but she supposed she couldn’t object as long as he behaved himself. “You’re welcome on one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “No jokes, no stunts like you pulled today and absolutely no teasing. If you announce to even one person that we’re married, I’m walking away from you and that’s a promise.”

  “You’ve got it.” He raised his hand, then ceremoniously crossed his heart.

  “Lick your fingertips first,” Cait demanded. The instant the words were out of her mouth, she realized how ridiculous she sounded, as if they were eight and ten all over again. “Forget I said that.”

  His eyes were twinkling as he stood to bring his plate to the sink. “I swear it’s a shame you’re so in love with Paul,” he told her. “If I’m not careful, I could fall for you myself.” With that, he kissed her on the cheek and let himself out the door.

  Pressing her fingers to her cheek, Cait drew in a deep, shuddering breath and held it until she heard the door close. Then and only then did it seep out in ragged bursts, as if she’d forgotten how to breathe normally.

  “Oh, Joe,” she whispered. The last thing she wanted was for Joe to fall in love with her. Not that he wasn’t handsome and sweet and wonderful. He was. He always had been. He just wasn’t for her. Their personalities were poles apart. Joe was unpredictable, always doing the unexpected, whereas Cait’s life ran like clockwork.

  She liked Joe. She almost wished she didn’t, but she couldn’t help herself. However, a steady diet of his pranks would soon drive her into the nearest asylum.

  Standing, Cait closed the pizza box and tucked the uneaten portion onto the top shelf of her refrigerator. She was putting the dirty plates in her dish
washer when the phone rang. She quickly washed her hands and reached for it.

  “Hello.”

  “Cait, it’s Paul.”

  Cait was so startled that the receiver slipped out of her hand. Grabbing for it, she nearly stumbled over the open dishwasher door, knocking her shin against the sharp edge. She yelped and swallowed a cry as she jerked the dangling phone cord toward her.

  “Sorry, sorry,” she cried, once she’d rescued the telephone receiver. “Paul? Are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m here. Is this a bad time? I could call back later if this is inconvenient. You don’t have company, do you? I wouldn’t want to interrupt a party or anything.”

  “Oh, no, now is perfect. I didn’t realize you had my home number…but obviously you do. After all, we’ve been working together for nearly a year now.” Eleven months and four days, not that she was counting or anything. “Naturally my number would be in the Human Resources file.”

  He hesitated and Cait bent over to rub her shin where it had collided with the dishwasher door. She was sure to have an ugly bruise, but a bruised leg was a small price to pay. Paul had phoned her!

  “The reason I’m calling…”

  “Yes, Paul,” she prompted when he didn’t immediately continue.

  The silence lengthened before he blurted out, “I just wanted to thank you for passing on that article on the tax advantages of limited partnerships. It was thoughtful of you and I appreciate it.”

  “I’ve read quite a lot in that area, you know. There are several recent articles on the same subject. If you’d like, I could bring them in next week.”

  “Sure. That would be fine. Thanks again, Cait. Goodbye.”

  The line was disconnected before Cait could say anything else and she was left holding the receiver. A smile came, slow and confident, and with a small cry of triumph, she tossed the telephone receiver into the air, caught it behind her back and replaced it with a flourish.

  Cait was dressed and waiting for Joe early the next morning. “Joe,” she cried, throwing open her apartment door, “I could just kiss you.”

  He was dressed in faded jeans and a hip-length bronze-colored leather jacket. “Hey, I’m not stopping you,” he said, opening his arms.

  Cait ignored the invitation. “Paul phoned me last night.” She didn’t even try to contain her excitement; she felt like leaping and skipping and singing out loud.

  “Paul did?” Joe sounded surprised.

  “Yes. It was shortly after you left. He thanked me for giving him an interesting article I found in one of the business journals and—this is the good part—he asked if I was alone…as if it really mattered to him.”

  “If you were alone?” Joe repeated, and frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Don’t you understand?” For all his intelligence Joe could be pretty obtuse sometimes. “He wanted to know if you were here with me. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Paul’s jealous, only he doesn’t realize it yet. Oh, Joe, I can’t remember ever being this happy. Not in years and years and years.”

  “Because Paul Jamison phoned?”

  “Don’t sound so skeptical. It’s exactly the break I’ve been waiting for all these months. Paul’s finally noticed me, and it’s thanks to you.”

  “At least you’re willing to give credit where credit is due.” But he still didn’t seem particularly thrilled.

  “It’s just so incredible,” she continued. “I don’t think I slept a wink last night. There was something in his voice that I’ve never heard before. Something…deep and personal. I don’t know how to explain it. For the first time in a whole year, Paul knows I’m alive!”

  “Are we going Christmas shopping or not?” Joe demanded brusquely. “Damn it all, Cait, I never expected you to go soft over a stupid phone call.”

  “But this wasn’t just any call,” she reminded him. She reached for her purse and her coat in one sweeping motion. “It was was from Paul.”

  “You sound like a silly schoolgirl.” Joe frowned, but Cait wasn’t about to let his short temper destroy her mood. Paul had phoned her at home and she was sure that this was the beginning of a real relationship. Next he’d ask her out for lunch, and then…

  They left her apartment and walked down the hall, Cait grinning all the way. Standing just outside the front doors was a huge truck with gigantic wheels. Just the type of vehicle she’d expected him to drive the night he’d taken her to Henry’s.

  “This is your truck?” she asked when they were outside. She couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice.

  “Something wrong with it?”

  “Not a single thing, but Joe, honestly, you are so predictable.”

  “That’s not what you said yesterday.”

  She grinned again as he opened the truck door, set down a stool for her and helped her climb into the cab. The seat was cluttered, but so wide she was able to shove everything to one side. When she’d made room for herself, she fastened the seat belt, snapping it jauntily in place. She was so happy, the whole world seemed delightful this morning.

  “Will you quit smiling before someone suggests you’ve been overdosing on vitamins?” Joe grumbled.

  “My, aren’t we testy this morning.”

  “Where to?” he asked, starting the engine.

  “Any of the big malls will do. You decide. Do you have your list all made out?”

  Joe patted his heart. “It’s in my shirt pocket.”

  “Good.”

  “Have you decided what you’re going to buy for whom?”

  His smile was slightly off-kilter. “Not exactly. I thought I’d follow you around and buy whatever you did. Do you know what you’re getting your mother? Mine’s damn difficult to buy for. Last year I ended up getting her a dozen bags of cat food. She’s got five cats of her own and God only knows how many strays she’s feeding.”

  “At least your idea was practical.”

  “Well, there’s that, and the fact that by the time I started my Christmas shopping the only store open was a supermarket.”

  Cait laughed. “Honestly, Joe!”

  “Hey, I was desperate and before you get all righteous on me, Mom thought the cat food and the two rib roasts were great gifts.”

  “I’m sure she did,” Cait returned, grinning. She found herself doing a lot of that when she was with Joe. Imagine buying his mother rib roasts for Christmas!

  “Give me some ideas, would you? Mom’s a hard case.”

  “To be honest, I’m not all that imaginative myself. I buy my mother the same thing every year.”

  “What is it?”

  “Long-distance phone cards. That way she can phone her sister in Dubuque and her high-school friend in Kansas. Of course she calls me every now and then, too.”

  “Okay, that takes care of Mom. What about Martin? What are you buying him?”

  “A bronze eagle.” She’d decided on that gift last summer when she’d attended Sunday services at Martin’s church. In the opening part of his sermon, Martin had used eagles to illustrate a point of faith.

  “An eagle,” Joe repeated. “Any special reason?”

  “Y-yes,” she said, not wanting to explain. “It’s a long story, but I happen to be partial to eagles myself.”

  “Any other hints you’d care to pass on?”

  “Buy wrapping paper in the after-Christmas sales. It’s about half the price and it stores easily under the bed.”

  “Great idea. I’ll have to remember that for next year.”

  Joe chose Northgate, the shopping mall closest to Cait’s apartment. The parking lot was already beginning to fill up and it was only a few minutes after eight.

  Joe managed to park fairly close to the entrance and came around to help Cait out of the truck. This time he didn’t bother with the step stool, but clasped her around the waist to lift her down. “What did you mean when you said I was so predictable?” he asked, giving her a reproachful look.

  With her hands resting on his sh
oulders and her feet dangling in midair, she felt vulnerable and small. “Nothing. It was just that I assumed you drove one of these Sherman-tank trucks, and I was right. I just hadn’t seen it before.”

  “The kind of truck I drive bothers you?” His brow furrowed in a scowl.

  “Not at all. What’s the matter with you today, Joe? You’re so touchy.”

  “I am not touchy,” he snapped.

  “Fine. Would you mind putting me down then?” His large hands were squeezing her waist almost painfully, though she doubted he was aware of it. She couldn’t imagine what had angered him. Unless it was the fact that Paul had called her—which didn’t make sense. Maybe, like most men, he just hated shopping.

  He lowered her slowly to the asphalt and released her with seeming reluctance. “I need a coffee break,” he announced grimly.

  “But we just arrived.”

  Joe forcefully expelled his breath. “It doesn’t matter. I need something to calm my nerves.”

  If he needed a caffeine fix so early in the day, Cait wondered how he’d manage during the next few hours. The stores quickly became crowded this time of year, especially on a Saturday. By ten it would be nearly impossible to get from one aisle to the next.

  By twelve, she knew: Joe disliked Christmas shopping every bit as much as she’d expected.

  “I’ve had it,” Joe complained after making three separate trips back to the truck to deposit their spoils.

  “Me, too,” Cait agreed laughingly. “This place is turning into a madhouse.”

  “How about some lunch?” Joe suggested. “Someplace faraway from here. Like Tibet.”

  Cait laughed again and tucked her arm in his. “That sounds like a great idea.”

  Outside, they noticed several cars circling the lot looking for a parking space and three of them rushed to fill the one Joe vacated. Two cars nearly collided in their eagerness. One man leapt out of his and shook an angry fist at the other driver.

  “So much for peace and goodwill,” Joe commented. “I swear Christmas brings out the worst in everyone.”

  “And the best,” Cait reminded him.

  “To be honest, I don’t know what crammed shopping malls and fighting the crowds and all this commercialism have to do with Christmas in the first place,” he grumbled. A car cut in front of him, and Joe blared his horn.

 

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