Bad Boys for Hire_Nick_Christmas Holiday

by Rachelle Ayala

  Twenty-Six

  “Knock, knock!” Jolie’s voice chirped through Carol’s bedroom door. “Are you getting ready in there? Need me to do your makeup?”

  Carol hastily blew her nose and dabbed her tears. She said to Nikki, “I don’t want to ruin everyone’s day. Don’t mention what I just told you. Pity party’s over, and I’m good to go.”

  “They’re your friends. They love you, too,” Nikki said. “You shouldn’t have to put up a front with any of us.”

  Leanna opened the door a crack. “Hey, Carol. You got a text message from someone who says you’re supposed to meet at the gym.”

  “It’s Nick. I was going to work out with him, but got up too late.” Carol put her hand out for the phone. She hadn’t added him to her contacts yet, which was why her friends didn’t know who was texting her.

  “Is this the Nick who played Santa?” Leanna slid to her side and looked over her shoulder at the message.

  “Wait, you’re talking to Nick?” Nikki’s usually slanted eyes widened. “The one you said was stalking you?”

  “Isn’t Nick the guy Ken said was bothering you?” Jolie chimed in.

  “Wait a sec. I have to text him back.” Carol glanced at the text message. She fingered in her message.

  Sorry. Got up late. Are you done working out? I can still meet you for a short one, but I have somewhere to go after lunch.

  “He enjoyed last night?” Leanna’s breath was hot over her shoulder. “You’re holding out on us, girl.”

  “We watched movies together, nothing more,” Carol said.

  “Oh, we know all about movie night and chilling.” Leanna wiggled her shoulders. “Comfy couch, a hot guy, and pay-per-view porn. Do tell.”

  “We didn’t watch porn.” By now, all her nosy friends were breathing down her neck. “Do A Christmas Kiss, A Boyfriend for Christmas, and Single Santa Seeks Mrs. Claus sound like porn to you?”

  “Sounds like a coded message to me.” Nikki slapped her hands on the bed and laughed. “First comes the kiss, then the boyfriend, and voila, you’re Mrs. Claus.”

  “Oh my!” Jolie squealed. “You do know what that means, don’t you?”

  “Another wedding!” Leanna danced around the bed. “What flavor cake? Red velvet with a Santa’s hat trim?”

  “Wait, wait, girls. This is serious.” By now, Nikki had jumped onto the bed as if it were her soapbox. “Nick watched romantic comedies with her. It has to be love! Has to be.”

  “Then we have the perfect couple for the Gala,” Jolie said. “Nick can be Santa and Carol can be the elf.”

  “Or Carol can be Santa Girl,” Leanna countered. “And Nick can be the big green elf.”

  “I vote for Mr. and Mrs. Claus,” Nikki said. She jumped off the bed and put her hand up for a high-five.

  Carol obligingly slapped it and then went for a group hug, or group huddle where the Bumblebees wiggled their behinds and buzzed.

  “Wait, wait, let me in,” Marisa said. She displaced Jolie on Carol’s left side and squeezed her way into the circle. “I’m so proud of you, Carol. Now you have your date to the Christmas Gala. I knew you could do it.”

  “Only one problem,” Carol, always the voice of reason, cut in on their glee. “I haven’t asked him.”

  “He won’t say no to you.”

  “He loves you. Only a man who loves you would sit through not one, not two, but three Christmas love stories.”

  “Now that you have a date, let’s get you the most dazzling gown ever.”

  “Poor Jason,” Marisa sighed. “Guess I’ll have to go with him to the party.”

  It was almost noon by the time Nick got away from Brianna. She’d made him drive her to the free clinic, and he’d had to endure the waiting room full of single mothers staring at him with disgust as Brianna sniffled and wailed about him giving her HIV.

  He’d seriously thought about ditching her when they both went into separate examination rooms, but Brianna was so overcome with emotion, she had been in no shape to drive. She made a huge scene at the clinic, convinced that she was dying of HIV, and the entire way to her apartment, she made lists of men she would have to inform while nagging Nick to be upfront to any potential women he might have infected.

  Fortunately, the quick HIV test came back negative for both of them, but Brianna was hysterical, saying that she could be in the early stages of infection, and the doctor had recommended they both return in three months for another test.

  He did, however, escape her invitation to go up to her penthouse, and he wasn’t going to help her fetch her car, which she’d left at the gym.

  There were limits to how much service he’d render to a woman who was blackmailing him.

  Nick checked his text messages as soon as he left Brianna’s place. He was too late. Carol’s message said she was going somewhere after lunch. He hastily texted her a message wishing her a good day, then drove by her parking spot. Sure enough, her van was missing. Was it bad timing, or had she decided she wanted to spend the day with Jason?

  Sam was home when Nick entered the apartment.

  “How’s Heather doing?” Nick dropped his gym bag and hung his keys on the hook.

  Heather had been put on bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy.

  “She’s arguing with me. Says she doesn’t have to stay in bed, that the doctors are overreacting. Why don’t you talk to her?”

  “Two months on bed rest is a killer,” Nick said. “You know how your wife is. Busy, busy, busy.”

  “Yeah, but the baby’s more important, and if I have to chain her to the bed, I will.” Sam huffed as he walked back to the kitchen. “Looks like I’ll be doing all the cooking.”

  “I can help,” Nick said.

  “Thought you were going to be out all day with that new girl of yours.” Sam winked and went back to stirring a pot.

  “We got our wires crossed. She’s dating another guy, a quadriplegic, and I get the feeling she’s with him.”

  “Uh oh. Looks like you have stiff competition then. I’m surprised she even agreed to a date with you after that scene at Cooper’s Hangout. That guy seemed like a good guy. I liked him.”

  “What’s not to like? Former fireman, now a dispatcher. Strong silent type. He was probably a boy scout.”

  “Plus, he has the sympathy play. She’d feel guilty if she hurts him.” Sam patted his back in a consoling manner.

  “Gee, good to know my own brother thinks I’ll lose.” Nick grabbed a bottle of beer and wandered to the master bedroom. “Heather, you want anything from the fridge?”

  “Nothing,” she replied. “I’m good.”

  There was a rustle of movement as Nick opened the door. But as soon as he focused on the bed, Heather was already there sitting under the covers with her hands folded primly.

  “You need to take this seriously,” Nick said, perching himself on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m allowed to go to the bathroom on my own,” Heather said.

  “Right, but if you have any contractions, you need to lie down. I want to be an uncle, but only at the right time.” He leaned over and kissed Heather on the cheek.

  “You were great last night. The wheelchair saved me from going into labor. Is there anything I can do to thank Carol?”

  “Help me think of a present for her. I want it to be perfect for her.” Nick set his beer on the nightstand. “This is her first Christmas after the accident. She told me she used to climb mountains. In fact, that’s how she got hurt. She fell off an icy cliff.”

  “Ouch.” Heather winced. “She’s a brave woman, and she’s lucky to have you.”

  Nick could totally see why Sam fell in love with Heather. “I’m not sure if she’s decided to have me or the other guy, a quadriplegic former fireman.”

  Heather took his hand and rubbed it. “That’s not for you to worry about. You concentrate on being the best Nick Wolff you can be. I’m sure she’ll make the right decision.”

  Right. If his sweet sis
ter-in-law only knew how sleazy he was, and how he had a crazy lawyer after him …

  When Nick didn’t say anything, Heather continued, “You’ve come a long way from being a bad boy stripper. I’m so proud of you doing the children’s gigs. I’m also proud of you for applying for the job with Wheelympics.”

  “I haven’t gotten it yet, and I’m not sure if they’ll pay enough for me to get a place of my own.”

  “What about the night caregiver job?”

  “I heard Jason doesn’t want me. No surprise, since we’re fighting over the same woman.” Nick reached for the beer and took a swig.

  “It’ll all work out. Worst case, you learned a lot about spinal cord injury.”

  “I hope so. Knock on wood. The whole topic of spinal cord injury scares me. It could happen to any one of us. Car accident. Fall. Hit by a car. Life changes in an instant.”

  “That’s why we have to be thankful for every moment we have. I came close to losing my baby last night.”

  “I thought Sam says you’re raring to get up from bed and move around.”

  Heather shook her head. “I am allowed to walk to the bathroom and take a shower.”

  “Then we should get a shower seat,” Nick said. “Carol has one. She also has a detachable shower head.”

  “You’re not going to raid her apartment again, are you?” Heather chuckled. “I’m sure my knight-in-shining armor husband will put one in for me if I needed it. What I want to know is how you feel about Carol. Do you think you’re in love?”

  The L-word. That was serious. Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “No. No way. I don’t do love.”

  “You seem to think about her all the time. You’re even applying for a job at the charity she volunteers with.”

  “Doesn’t mean a thing.” Nick got scared even thinking about it. “She’s just an interesting person, that’s all.”

  “Yep, it always starts like that.” Heather gave him a knowing smile. “Pretty soon, you two will be picking china patterns.”

  Nick shook his head and rubbed his face with both palms. “She’ll never go for me. I’ve a bad reputation. No steady job. Not her type.”

  “Then why the full court press? I know you spent the entire day and evening with her—only interrupted by my little emergency.”

  He couldn’t help the warm feelings bubbling up from the memory. “Yeah, she’s pretty special. I can’t believe I watched three romantic comedies with her.”

  “Bingo.” Heather snapped her fingers. “It’s love. You can’t deny it. I knew it with Sam when he went with me to a romance convention. He even carried all the bags of books I bought.”

  Sam was whipped. Entirely.

  “Yeah, it was a one-time slip. They were the stupidest movies. I fell asleep on the last one. Some stupid Santa looking for a wife.”

  “I can see you doing just that.” Heather tapped his shoulder. “You should go for it. Let her know how you feel. Give her something to consider.”

  “Consider what?” Panic filled Nick’s chest, and he found it hard to breathe. Was he truly in love with Carol? Already?

  “Consider your case instead of that other guy she’s dating—the handsome fireman.”

  “He really is a nice guy, unlike me.” Nick buried his head in his hands.

  “True, but if you don’t tell her your feelings and the other guy does, she might start developing feelings for him and you’ll be left out in the cold. I hate to see you care about someone so much and be left out.”

  Ugh. Heather was right. He couldn’t leave the field open to Jason, yet competing against a man who was paralyzed seemed unethical.

  “He’s a hero. Probably got paralyzed saving someone’s life.”

  “So? All’s fair in love and war. Don’t patronize him, even in your thoughts. He’s a man and he can take it. You worry about your pitch.”

  “What if I get shot down? Or she finds out something bad about me?” Nick’s stomach clenched like a cold fist.

  Heather tilted her head and studied him. “What are you worried about? I’m sure she doesn’t expect you to be a virgin, and as far as I know, you haven’t killed anyone.”

  “I haven’t, but there are people who’d lie about me.”

  “If they’re lies, you have nothing to worry about.”

  Nick closed his eyes and wrung his hands. There was no way Carol would understand about Brianna. No way she’d believe Nick’s side of the story. The money he’d been paid as a personal trainer went way over the normal rates. Even though he had the signed waivers stating that he did not trade sex for money, the only reason his clients paid his outrageous fees was because he’d put out.

  He was a whore.

  “Nick? Is there something you’re not telling me?” Heather rubbed his arm.

  “No. I’m fine. Just worried about Carol.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

  “You don’t have to convince me,” Heather said. “But if you love her, you’ll tell her the truth. If she can’t take it, then it was never meant to be.”

  “What if it’s something that’s been blown out of proportion?”

  “You still have to tell her your side of the story before she hears from someone else. Besides, even if you end up married, especially if you end up married to her, then you need to tell her the truth daily and keep no secrets between you. You have to trust her.”

  “I don’t know how she feels about me right now,” Nick admitted. “How can I trust her when she might not feel the same way?”

  “Better to know now than to sink your heart further,” Heather said. “Promise me, you’ll tell her. Whatever it is that has you worried.”

  “I can’t do that. Not yet. Not until I fix a few things.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Hart in SF Design Studios was located in a historic high-rise building near Union Square. The designer, Jenna Hart, was known for her chic and fun designs, both edgy and contemporary, but with a California vibe: hints of tie-dye, beach wear, and ethnic flavors. She’d also won awards for her plus-size collection, inspired by togas splashed with bright and saucy colors.

  Marisa held the frosted glass door while Carol, Jolie, Leanna, and Nikki entered the lobby lined with headless mannequins. Each one was on a gleaming chrome pedestal and draped with an exquisite gown, sparkling jewelry, and other accessories.

  Her friends, of course, all had their opinions.

  “You should get something to show off those awesome shoulders and arms,” Jolie said.

  As if she were modeling for a body building magazine.

  “Very nice boobs.” Leanna nodded appreciatively. “If you have the cleavage, you gotta show it.”

  Right, being seated meant men could look straight down at her and get more than an eyeful if she wasn’t careful.

  “It’s the legs,” Nikki insisted. “Carol has those nice long legs. So classic.”

  So sticklike and storky, Carol thought as she maneuvered her chair to a pedestal with a mannequin sitting in a wheelchair.

  The black gown was asymmetrical, baring one arm and shoulder. The other side started with a long sleeve of a sheer material dripping with silver tube beads. The see-through look extended from the single sleeve, up the single shoulder, around the back and flowed like a river down the side with the slit which partially exposed one leg. The tubular beads were sprinkled at random intervals and made for an interesting texture and illusion of privacy, breaking up the sheerness of the fabric.

  Simple, elegant, and very, very chic.

  “Waaarooh!” A set of scrabbling clicks scampered around the corner, and the floppiest hound dog scooted himself to a stop in front of Carol.

  “Please excuse Harley,” a tall blonde with a pleasant smile said. “I’m Jenna Hart, and you must be Carol Cassidy.”

  Carol held out her hand and shook firmly. “So honored to meet you. I still can’t believe my friends arranged this for me. You must be a very busy woman.”

  “I’m never too busy for friends. Jolie does m
akeup for some of my shows, and Nikki shoots look-books for me.” Jenna gave Jolie and Nikki hugs.

  “Leanna Rivera,” Leanna greeted the designer. “I’d bake cakes for your models, but somehow I don’t think it would go over too well.”

  “Maybe not for my models, but I live in a house full of firefighters,” Jenna said. “So nice to meet you, too.”

  “My sister, Marisa, joined us, too,” Carol said. “She’s a big fan of yours.”

  “I sure am,” Marisa gushed. “I saw your show in New York when you were still working for Moonique Designs.”

  “Then you’ll appreciate how much I’ve branched out on my own. Follow me.” Jenna waved them through a set of double doors.

  The basset hound trailed happily, padding after her. He was her signature piece. At the end of each runway show, the designer herself would follow the last of the models, and she always had the dog with her.

  “Wow. Look at all the beautiful gowns,” Marisa exclaimed, clapping her hands.

  Carol’s eyes, too, were dazzled by the array of brilliant colors. Glittery sequins, beads, and bling draping each mannequin, along with the miles of exquisite material hanging on the racks.

  “Some of these are unfinished, because I like to tailor them to your size,” Jenna explained. “Do you have a particular color or style you like?”

  “I, uh, hadn’t thought of dressing up since …” Carol trailed off. “Can you choose some for me? I’m a software nerd so I really don’t know what’s stylish.”

  “It’s not about what’s in style as much as what works for you, or even more importantly, what makes you feel like an exuberant and joyful woman.” Jenna picked up a sapphire-blue semi-transparent, drop-shoulder dress with a peekaboo see-through waistline. “Do you like this one?”

  “Sure, but I’m not sure about how much you can see through it.” The waist area of the dress was sheer and no one’s stomach was flat when in a sitting position. “Since my friends are here, maybe I’ll let them pick for me.”