Romancing the Holiday

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Romancing the Holiday Page 15

by HelenKay Dimon


  Chapter Four

  The crowd swelled around the gift wrap booth like the eddies of an ocean. Ten shopping days until Christmas meant Caitlin had been besieged since the moment she’d walked in the doors of Water Tower Place. A true lover of all things snow-covered, tinseled and festively trimmed, she’d lost her holly-jolly spirit about an hour ago. Shoppers swarmed like sharks in a feeding frenzy. None of them wanted to wait in line, or come back in an hour to pick up their wrapped presents. She’d been snapped at, insulted, called various names relating to both Scrooge and Grinch, and had a toddler throw up on her shoe. Caitlin wanted to make a nametag that said I’m a volunteer—be nice to me!

  For what had to be the nine-thousandth time, she cinched a fake sprig of holly into the middle of a large red bow. Pushing the box down the assembly line, Caitlin reached over for the next one.

  “Oh, no you don’t. You haven’t taken a break all morning, and it’s almost two.” The shift leader shooed her away from the pile of boxes. “Go grab lunch at Foodlife. They do an amazing Pad Thai. In fact, will you bring me one when you come back?”

  She’d never been so happy at the thought of a food court, albeit a super-upscale version, as befitted the toniest shopping center in Chicago. And she really, really wished they served beer. After surviving what promised to be the afternoon’s madness, a couple or three tall, cold beers would be the only solution to her throbbing headache. “No problem. And I promise to be quick.”

  Before anyone could thrust another package in her face, Caitlin grabbed her purse and slipped away from the booth. The urge to stretch her back, roll her shoulders and goggle at the giant golden reindeer suspended six stories up was strong. But her empty stomach overruled it. Cold Pop-Tarts at dawn didn’t exactly keep a body going all day long. But she only made it two steps toward the escalator before someone grabbed her bicep.

  “Hello, Caitlin.” Monica Selford smiled coolly, as white and fluffy as a flocked Christmas tree. White leather pants tucked into white snow boots. A cowl-necked angora sweater dipped low, showcasing cleavage too ample and perfect to be anything but fake. Or was that just hunger-induced cattiness? Maybe feminine jealousy of the enormous diamond studs dragging down Monica’s earlobes?

  Whatever the cause, Caitlin needed to get over it. In a few weeks, Monica would be engaged to Kyle. That would make her...well, nothing official sprang to mind. A best-friend-in-law? Definitely an integral part of Kyle’s life. For his sake, Caitlin needed to make an effort. After all, the marriage might last. What woman in her right mind wouldn’t want to spend the rest of her life with Kyle Lockhart? No doubt the more time Monica spent with him, the more she’d realized the man’s amazing wonderfulness. Especially after they progressed from pecks on the cheek to sliding between the sheets. Kyle had all those rippling muscles. He probably had amazing moves in bed. The kind of talent that made a woman fall in love with him after just one night of passion.

  “Caitlin? Are you alright?” Monica’s grip on her arm tightened into real support. Enough to pull Caitlin out of her very wrong, very sexual reverie about her off-limits best friend.

  “No. Yes. I mean, I haven’t eaten all day. I’m sorry. Hello, Monica.” She stabbed out the words with all the eloquence of a crow banging on a typewriter with its beak.

  “You’ve got to take care of yourself, being a single woman. Nobody else is going to look after you.”

  Was that a dig? Had Kyle breached all normal codes of friendship and told her that Caitlin hadn’t been on a date in two months? Now Caitlin’s hunger-induced cattiness was spreading to others, like the flu. But in order to truly make a fresh start with Monica, she had to start right now. No excuses. Caitlin plastered on a what-a-delightful-surprise-to-see-you smile. Even kicked it up a notch by encircling Monica’s shoulders in a quick hug. Okay, the fastest hug ever. More like a twitch.

  “You are absolutely right. In fact, I’m on my way to grab a bite right now.” She and Monica had only met twice before today, and both times Kyle had been their buffer. This was the perfect opportunity to have some one-on-one time. Get to find out what made Monica tick. “Would you like to join me? Or you in the middle of scratching things off your Christmas list?”

  Monica bared her teeth in a smile so bright men all around them stared. And kept staring. All that focused attention made Caitlin uncomfortable. “I’ll sit with you.” Monica raised one finger. “Oh, and I’ll have a Pellegrino.”

  Was she placing her order? Or was it just that every single word out of her mouth rubbed Caitlin the wrong way? Fresh start. For Kyle. “Not a problem. Why don’t you find a table for us, and I’ll be back in a jiff?”

  The whole time Caitlin stood in line for her food, she watched Monica from across the vast open space. Not one, but two men offered up their tables for her. An older man walking by pulled out the chair for her. And in the eight minutes before Caitlin rejoined her, three men hit on Monica. She attracted young and old, all different types. The woman was a man magnet. How would Kyle deal with his wife receiving that sort of attention? The thought troubled Caitlin.

  Or, yet again, it could just be plain old jealousy. Under the stress of her final semester, her dating life had ground to a halt. She’d spent the last two months doing nothing but school and work. Well, and hanging out with Kyle in what little spare time could be carved out. Plus, she’d never had men kick chairs out of the way just to talk to her, like Monica’s current tablemate.

  She slammed down the tray a bit harder than was truly necessary. “Sorry I took so long. I didn’t expect you to start auditioning replacement lunch partners, though.”

  The slightly paunchy man shook his head from side to side. “Oh, no. I don’t waste a lady’s time with lunch.” He winked at Monica, and slid his business card across the table. “I’d like to take you to dinner at Blackbird.”

  “That is a very tempting offer, John. But I’m only in town for a few days, and my schedule is jam-packed. Will the offer still be good after the holidays?”

  “The offer’s always good. But I can’t promise that I’ll be,” he said, with a slower, meaningful wink.

  Ewww. Caitlin gave him a little shove with her hip as she slid into the chair. He continued to completely ignore her presence.

  “Well, I’ll keep that in mind. Next time I’m in Chicago, I just might give you a ring.” Monica gave him a three-finger wave. It looked flirty, and yet it also clearly gave him the signal to go away. Sure enough, he ambled off.

  Caitlin wrinkled her nose. “You wouldn’t really call that guy, would you? He’s such a player.”

  “He offered to take me to Blackbird. It’s one of the best restaurants in the country. Why would I pass that up?”

  “Umm, because you’re dating Kyle?”

  “We’re not exclusive. He knows it. Kyle certainly doesn’t sit home alone when I’m out of town.”

  Well, that was true. He’d racked up his fair share of hookups. Caitlin mentally pinched herself. Why did she judge Monica with a double standard? Why’d she keep thinking the worst of her? If Caitlin kept this up attitude, she’d deserve nothing but coal in her stocking.

  Monica grabbed her Pellegrino and uncapped it. “Besides, if this John can afford to take a total stranger to Blackbird, then he’s swimming in money. That’s the kind of client we need at the Selford Chambers. It would be more of a networking and/or advertising opportunity than a date.”

  So this was how the high-powered public relations people did it. Every new face was a chance to woo a client, or schmooze an advertiser. Yet another reason why curating art appealed to Caitlin. It wasn’t phony. Fresh start. For Kyle. “I’m just saying that you’re a beautiful woman, Monica. You could do a lot better than someone so sleazy. Come on—he tried to pick you up in a food court."

  "Good point." She still tucked the card inside her Louis Vuitton bag. "Yet again, the offer of dinner at Blackbird is an excellent counter to the whole food court thing. Look at me. I'm certainly not one to hang out with th
e masses. I prefer to do my shopping online. From the well-appointed confines of my private office. Ten minutes nets me as many gift certificates, and I'm done."

  "You can't see the festive holiday decorations from your office. Hear the carols, or see the people filled with seasonal cheer," Caitlin pointed out.

  "I also won't see the people spreading their seasonal cold germs near me. But it is Christmas. People who never go shopping are out today. The poor man might be tracking down something nice for his secretary." Leaning forward, Monica tilted her water bottle toward Caitlin for emphasis. "More important, there's every chance John might travel for business and stay in our hotels a dozen times next year. If I don't meet with him and impress upon him how luxurious and restful Selford Chambers are, then that is potential business lost."

  "Wow. You are always thinking about work, aren't you?" No matter how many things she didn't like about Monica, Caitlin had to admire her work ethic. The woman lived and breathed the Selford Chambers brand.

  "Of course. That's the hallmark of a true professional. You don't just hit your goals. You've always got to be looking ahead and setting new ones."

  As excited as she was by her two job prospects, Caitlin didn't want them to define her life. While she loved art, talking about it all day and all night would bore her silly. With school behind her now, she could create a whole new life—maybe in a new city, maybe not. But it had to be balanced. Friends, relationships, hobbies. She wanted to take a wine tasting class. Right now the vast extent of her wine knowledge was comprised of ordering by color. Or, more often, being overwhelmed by her ignorance, giving up and ordering a beer instead.

  Monica's 24/7 devotion to her job didn't appeal to Caitlin. Or seem like anything but a guaranteed recipe for an ulcer five years down the road. Nevertheless, her suggestion about goal setting did resonate. As soon as Caitlin landed one of these jobs, her to-do list would be blank for the first time in decades. Terrifyingly so. Except for the wine tasting class idea, which hardly seemed big enough to put on a ten-year plan. Or even a five. Approaching Monica with an open mind had already netted Caitlin an interesting tidbit. This whole fresh start plan would work.

  "That's really good advice. Thank you." She wolfed down a couple of bites of pad thai. Oddly enough, Monica didn't say a word while Caitlin ate. She sat there, watching her with a flat, squirm-inducing gaze. Might as well break the silence with a little digging about her job prospect. "I wanted to thank you again for getting me that interview. The Selford Chambers must have received an enormous stack of resumes for the curator position. It's such a wonderful and unusual opportunity."

  "You were qualified. Otherwise I wouldn't have brought you to Jack's attention." Monica leaned forward. She pushed her water out of the way and crossed her arms on the table. "I can do it again."

  "Do what?"

  "Tell him that you're the best candidate. I hear all three of you in the final round did an impressive job. Jack's having a difficult time making a choice. One word from me, and the job is yours."

  An unexpected offer. Kind of like a comet-crashing-into-the-Christmas-tree-behind-them unexpected. They weren't friends. They were barely acquaintances. Why would Monica do this? "Wow. Thank you, but no."

  The other woman's perfectly arched eyebrow shot straight up. "Don't be an idiot. Take the job."

  "Oh, don't get me wrong. I want the job." Probably. The whole leaving-Chicago angle of it worried her a bit. After living here her whole life, the city was like a well-worn-in sneaker. Comfortable, easy. On the other hand, she didn’t want to stay here and watch Kyle go through the motions in his loveless marriage. Or worse, fall in love right in front of her eyes. “I just don’t want it unless I earn it. But I appreciate your belief in me.”

  “Perhaps I wasn’t clear. I can make your life easy. A signing bonus, seven percent higher salary than what Jack offered you in the interview. Take the job, Caitlin. If you don’t,” Monica leaned back, and her eyes narrowed, “I can make your life very, very difficult.”

  “What?” Clearly she hadn’t eaten enough yet. Because there was no way her best friend’s almost fiancée who she barely knew would have just threatened her. Was there? It made no sense. Low blood sugar leading to lack of comprehension—now, that made sense. Caitlin took a large, purposeful bite. “I don’t understand.”

  “I suppose you know already that Kyle’s going to propose to me. He tells you everything, right?”

  This conversation was turning more surreal by the minute. How did Monica know? It wasn’t as if she and Kyle spent every minute together like a normal couple and had discussed an inevitable marriage. It should be the farthest thing from her mind, what with the whole not-sleeping-together-yet angle. “Yes. I mean, what makes you think he’s about to pop the question?”

  “Brian’s been dropping significant hints.”

  It took a minute for Caitlin’s brain to pull the random name into the correct context. “Do you mean Brian Lockhart? Kyle’s dad?”

  “Of course.”

  “He blew the surprise?” The jig was up. Caitlin saw no point in pretending otherwise. She couldn’t believe Mr. Lockhart went behind Kyle’s back. “Wait a minute. Why are you having conversations with Kyle’s dad in the first place?”

  “The merger, of course. Kyle must have mentioned LTS Industries is one of the companies courting us for a merger. He’s made up ridiculous excuses to skip every conference call and meeting on the subject so far, but I know he’s aware there’s a plan in the works.”

  “Oh, he’s aware, all right,” Caitlin murmured.

  “Kyle’s a typical computer geek. Brilliant, but with all the imagination and romance of a turnip. Since Brian intimated he won’t wait for Valentine’s Day, I anticipate he’ll ask me on New Year’s Eve. I’ve already rearranged my calendar to be back here.”

  “How very accommodating of you. Does this mean you plan to say yes?” Caitlin wasn’t sure what compelled her to ask such an obvious question. Kyle had smarts, charm, looks, wit—the total package. Who wouldn’t say yes to spending the rest of her life with him?

  “I do.” Monica smiled at her accidental turn of phrase. “LTS will make a strong partner for the Selford Chambers brand. This is a smart merger.”

  So not what she’d asked. “I don’t mean the merger. Do you plan to say yes to Kyle?”

  “You’ve got to start thinking with a brain for business. Kyle is the merger I was talking about. He’s an integral piece of LTS.” She ticked off points on her French-tipped fingers. “His wealth profile matches mine, and he accepts my independent streak. The marriage will seal the merger between Selford Chambers and LTS. Our board of directors will be pleased to see us align with another tight, family-based company. Last but not least, he’s an incredibly attractive piece of arm candy. I’d say I hit the jackpot.”

  Oh, it sounded like nothing more than a business deal. Monica’s voice held the same amount of warmth she’d use to discuss trading mutual funds. Maybe less. It was fine for her to tally up Kyle’s assets, but he was so much more than those superficial items. More than a walking balance sheet with an overabundance of brains. Kyle was a fiend about hockey. It brought out a wicked competitive streak he had to play down at work. He loved to sail, loved the absolute relaxation of pitting himself against nature. And he had such a kind heart he volunteered in a Big Brother program twice a month. Shouldn’t the woman about to become his wife know—and value—those things about him?

  Caitlin couldn’t help herself. The fateful words that could seal Kyle’s future came out in a desperate rush. “Do you love him at all?”

  “Aren’t you a naïve little thing.” Monica gave her an appraising look. The faint crease that appeared between her eyebrows said she found Caitlin to be less than expected. “I thought we were the same age. How can you still cling to such childish notions of romance?”

  “Believing in love, valuing it, doesn’t make me naïve,” she shot back. “I could just as easily say that your not striving fo
r it makes you pessimistic and unambitious.”

  Monica toyed with the large pearl ring on her right hand. Its creamy luster was only a shade off from her sweater. “Have you seen the divorce rate recently? A marriage based on love or passion might burn hot for a while, but then it fizzles out, with all the staying power of a firecracker. Whereas a marriage based on mutual respect, for each other, for our work, has a solid foundation. I believe this marriage will be mutually beneficial.” She looked right at Caitlin with the barest hint of a smile. “As an added bonus, I genuinely like Kyle. Your head might be too muddled with hearts and flowers to believe me, but I want this marriage to work. There’s only one thing standing in the way.”

  “You live in two different cities? You barely know each other?”

  “None of that is relevant. No, the only real problem, the only thing that could prevent this marriage from getting off the ground, is you, Caitlin.”

  Talk about ridiculous. She was orchestrating the entire proposal. That’s about as far as you could get from standing in the way. “You’re mistaken. Kyle’s made it clear this is what he wants, and I support him.” Well, she supported his choice that led to the proposal. Caitlin wanted Mr. Lockhart to give Kyle the love and respect his dad had withheld for as long as Kyle could remember. This was the only way for him to get it, especially with his dad staring down death in a matter of months. In theory, at least.

  “If you honestly care about him, don’t you want to do everything possible to make this marriage work? I certainly do.” Once more, Monica leaned forward, with the grace of a cobra about to strike. “I’m not blind. I’ve seen the way you look at him. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you, without either of you realizing it. Every time we’re together, or on the phone, your name comes up. Constantly. No matter what the damn topic. You’re always there, in his head.”

  If only that were the case. “You’ve got the wrong idea. It’s true, we spend quite a bit of time together. We’re best friends, and have been for a long time. But we’re just friends, I assure you.”

 

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