Romancing the Holiday

by HelenKay Dimon

  “I’m sure you each believe that to be true. But can you sit here and tell me you’ve never wished for anything more? That you wouldn’t go running to him the moment he so much as crooked a finger?” Monica’s voice dropped to a hiss. “I dare you to deny that you wouldn’t leap into his bed with a rose between your teeth given half a chance.”

  Caitlin ground her back teeth together. How did Monica know? They’d met only twice before today. How on earth had she picked up on Caitlin’s secret longing? Especially when Kyle and Caitlin had spent thousands of hours together without him suspecting a thing. For Kyle’s sake, to salvage his relationship with his father, she had to nip this notion in the bud. “Monica, he’s going to propose to you. All you have to do is say yes. I’m not going to be in the way.”

  “Exactly. You won’t be in the way because you’ll be too busy whisking your way around the country choosing art for the Selford Chambers. Like I said, the job is yours. All you have to do is say yes.” She mimicked Caitlin, making air quotes with her fingers. “Oh, and stay the hell away from Kyle. It’s the only way we’ll have the chance to be a real couple. The only way I’ll capture enough of his attention to turn this from a mere marriage of convenience to a marriage that lasts. Someone with your fixation on love should understand that desire. So once we’re married, I want you out of the picture for good.”

  No. Not a snowball’s chance in hell. “I don’t want you to give me the job for the wrong reasons. And I certainly won’t turn my back on my best friend.”

  “I think you will. Because I’m not giving you a choice in the matter.”

  Caitlin shoved away her barely eaten lunch. There was still a chance, although growing slimmer by the second, that she’d end up working for the Selford Chambers. Although she kind of wanted to upend her plate over Monica’s head, it wouldn’t be prudent. Spine as straight as steel, she rose to her feet. “I need to get back. Please don’t do me any so-called favors. I promise you I won’t accept a handout.”

  Pushing up into a half crouch with one hand on the table, Monica whipped out the other to encircle Caitlin’s wrist. “Listen carefully. You will take the job, you will leave Chicago, and you will cut Kyle out of your life.”

  Even the idea of it was so absurd as to be laughable. Except that nothing about the hard-edged stare facing Caitlin across the table allowed her to laugh. Now she knew the reason for the alarm bells that rang every time she thought about this woman. Somehow she must’ve sensed Monica’s cruel streak. “You can’t make me do that. You don’t have the power to decide another person’s entire—”

  Monica cut her off. “Wrong again. If you don’t do as I say, then I will blackball you in the art world. Museums, galleries, schools, even media outlets won’t touch you with a twenty-foot pole. By the time I’m finished, you won’t be able to get a job manning the cash register at a poster shop. You know my family, you know our connections in the business and society world. I have enough clout to ruin you in a day. So you should be fully aware this isn’t an idle threat.”

  The two-ton boulder of fear suddenly lodged in the pit of her stomach told Caitlin this was all-too-real a threat. Monica Selford was a mover and a shaker. Constantly in the newspapers, in magazines, tweeted about. The fact she had the power to make good on her threat was undeniable. But Caitlin did have one weapon in her arsenal. “Kyle won’t stand for this. He won’t let you bully me.”

  “Don’t you dare breathe a word of this to Kyle. If you do, and he decides not to go through with the proposal, I’ll still bury you. If you ever want to work as anything more than a burger flipper, you’ll keep your mouth shut. I told you, I want this marriage to work. In addition to a fancy wedding, and the press release about the merger. Those are nice trophies, but the gilt on them is a successful marriage to Kyle. And when I want something, I do whatever it takes to get it and keep it.” Monica released her grip and needlessly smoothed her impeccable hair. “Our HR department will call you next week with the offer details. I promise you’ll get a lovely signing bonus just in time to finish your shopping. Merry Christmas.”

  Caitlin watched her walk away. Without Monica saying a word, the crowd of bag-laden, irritable shoppers magically parted to let the beautiful woman pass by. Was it her striking looks, her poise? Or was it simply a fact of life that she really did get whatever she wanted? With her stomach, heart and mind all equally unsettled, Caitlin dumped the rest of her lunch in the trash. Apparently she’d have to make even more of a fresh start than she’d planned. For Kyle.

  Chapter Five

  Kyle paced the sidewalk, watching his black patent dress shoes smoosh into the flurries of snow. It had been exactly seven minutes since he’d ducked out of the LTS Industries Christmas party, and he was positive his father had noticed his absence by now. Another tick in the minus column against his least-favorite son. He clamped the phone tighter to his ear to better hear over the howling wind.

  “Caitlin, what the hell is taking you so long?”

  The phone line practically crackled with her exasperation, practically as high as his. “In case you haven’t noticed, the snow’s kicked up to practically blizzard conditions. Chicago traffic sucks under the best conditions. You really think my taxi is going any more than a rocking five miles an hour right now?”

  Kyle didn’t care how unreasonable it might be. He needed Caitlin on his arm, and back up at the party as of, oh, twenty minutes ago. About to bark out another plea to hurry, he slid the phone into his pocket as a taxi double honked its arrival. Kyle thrust a handful of bills at the driver and yanked open the door. “The whole point of tonight is for me to have a date. Did you have to take so long getting ready? The party started half an hour...” his voice trailed off as Caitlin got out. Or had he actually swallowed his tongue? He’d looked at her so often over the years. Half the time he barely noticed what she looked like. Caitlin was always just there, like his three computers, iPod and Xbox. But then a night like this came along, and she blindsided him with her beauty.

  She’d done something fancy with her hair that clustered red curls on one side and left the other side of her neck bare. Bare and inviting. The deep green of a holly sprig, her dress pushed her breasts up onto a ruffled display shelf. Look, but don’t touch, he told himself. The strapless top was cinched in by a black velvet ribbon around her tiny waist, then poofed out into a wide skirt. Happily, it stopped at her knees. Caitlin’s legs looked a million miles long, ending in super-high black heels. Deep red nails peeped out of a cut out at the toe. Kyle would happily give up his iPad for an entire week just to glimpse the rest of her toes.

  He scrambled to find words that would do her justice. “You look amazing.” Yeah, he wasn’t any good with words. Now, if he could craft an equation that transformed her beauty into the simplicity of numbers, then he’d be eloquent. Except she wouldn’t understand it. And he’d win the prize for biggest nerd ever.

  “Good. Then stop sniping at me. You’re lucky I’m here at all.”

  “I know. I owe you big. I owe you...whatever you want. Sky’s the limit.” Truly. He’d freaking buy her a car for coming out tonight and saving his ass, if she asked for it.

  Caitlin gave him a veiled look. Weird. He could always tell what she was thinking. But right now, as she peered up at him from beneath thick black lashes, all he could sense was that for once, she didn’t want him to know anything. That didn’t sit well with him. Like the time his brother made him do five tequila shots in a row and then eat a plate of nachos bigger than a hubcap.

  “You don’t need to bribe me, Kyle,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’m your best friend. I’ll always have your back, whether we’re two or two thousand miles apart.”

  “Okay. Wait, is this a hint? Do you know which job you’re taking?”

  “No. No, I really don’t.”

  With a hand at the small of her back, Kyle pushed them through into the refined gray-and-black elegance of the Cavendish Grand hotel lobby. A soaring atrium rose three stories,
with one entire wall of windows overlooking the hustle and bustle of Michigan Avenue. The walls were covered in dove-gray satin echoed in the chairs and sofas grouped around a cascade of water streaming from the ceiling into a mound of shiny black river stones. Sheets of glass formed the check-in desk, supported by columns of dark granite. He hustled them past, straight into the elevator.

  “I’m really glad you were free,” Kyle said.

  “Oh, me too. Single and dateless on a Saturday night.” She fist pumped the air as the doors swooshed shut. “I was just about to toast to my good fortune when I got your frantic text.”

  Huh. His normally sunny Caitlin was as bitter as the noxious cough syrup he’d gagged down during his bout with bronchitis last month. “What’s with the attitude?”

  She closed her eyes long enough for him to notice the sparkly green shadow on her lids. “Nothing. I’m sorry. Just harried from rushing around doing my Cinderella transformation.” With a deep breath, she opened her eyes and gave him a weak smile. “Now, do you want to tell me why you begged me to be your date with half an hour’s notice? I thought tonight was supposed to be Monica’s big reveal as your main squeeze.”

  “That was the plan. Or rather, my dad’s plan. Here, let me help you out of your coat.” The backs of his fingers brushed against her bare shoulders. All it took was that one soft touch to catapult his lust from everyday, ignorable levels to red hot and ready. Why tonight? He’d managed to keep thoughts of sex and Caitlin from intermingling for years. The same way as in the classic movie Ghostbusters, they couldn’t cross their proton streams, or all life could end. She was his best friend. No way would he muddy those waters with sex. He couldn’t begin to contemplate what his life would be like if she wasn’t in it anymore.

  The doors opened and a waiting attendant took their overcoats. The familiar clench in his gut told him dear old dad was nearby. “Okay, I worked the room when I got here. You shouldn’t have to sit through too much business talk. Lots of spouses here tonight, so the conversation’s staying pretty light. Just stick close and—”

  “Be your arm candy?”

  Kyle knew a trap when he heard one. He stopped right on the threshold of the ballroom. “Is it degrading and sexist if I say yes?”

  She pinched her thumb and first finger together until only a sliver of light shone through. “Little bit. But I get it.”

  “We’re a family company. We have an image to uphold. As Dad said to me a few hours ago, I’d project a pathetic, never-been-screwed, geek boy image by not having a beautiful woman on my arm.”

  “Doesn’t he know geeks are the hot commodity this decade? Did you tell him about that Bears cheerleader you hooked up with after they tanked their last game? What about the packs of women chasing after you, hoping you’ll be the next dot com zillionaire?”

  Kyle clapped a hand to his forehead. “Totally forgot. Guess once I’m engaged, I’ll have to take out a full-page ad in the Chicago Tribune, apologizing for disappointing all of them.”

  “That would be novel. Seeing how you’ve never apologized for disappointing me.”

  Brian Lockhart stepped in front of them. For Kyle, especially in their identical tuxes, it was like looking in a funhouse mirror that aged him by twenty years. “Good evening, Caitlin. You look quite lovely.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Lockhart.” She tucked her hands around Kyle’s elbow.

  “It was kind of you to take pity on Kyle and help him out tonight. People would’ve talked if he’d shown up without a date.”

  Caitlin pursed her lips to one side and nodded. “You’re right. The whole room probably would’ve placed bets on which lucky girl would bag him for the night.” Ah, there she was. His girl always came out swinging in his defense. It drove Dad crazy.

  His father pressed his lips together into a thin line. “Please keep in mind you’re representing LTS Industries tonight. You’re not here to be Kyle’s personal cheering section.”

  “I can do both. Grad school taught me to multitask.” Big eyes, open smile, she was the picture of innocence. But Kyle knew that with every double-edged word she gave his dad the finger.

  “Congratulations on your degree. Enjoy the evening,” he thrust a warning index finger in Kyle’s face, “but not too much.” He stalked away with the same furrow that always settled between his eyes after dealing with Caitlin and Kyle.

  Caitlin jabbed her elbow into his side. She’d done it so often over the years that he probably had a callous on his rib. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time. What’s the big idea of siccing your dad on me before I chug a couple of glasses of champagne?”

  “It was a stealth attack. Neither one of us saw him coming.” But at least now the worst part of the evening was over. “You definitely earned your champagne, though. I got the bartender to put aside a bottle of the really good stuff. As thanks for you showing up tonight.” Although a single bottle of Dom Perignon wouldn’t be enough to thank her for the staunch defense she’d mustered. And a case of the stuff wouldn’t come close to thanking her for the way she looked in that dress. He steered her toward the bar, and signaled the bartender.

  Caitlin tucked her tiny black purse under her arm. “Before the Lockhart family grinch interrupted us, you were going to tell me why I’m here. What happened to Monica?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Actually, he did. Kyle wanted to yell and curse and throw things. But that didn’t really fit the festive holiday theme the Cavendish had going with their decorations. Every big round table had crystal bowls full of ornaments as centerpieces, surrounded by holly wreaths. Suspended from the ceiling every ten feet were kissing balls of mistletoe. Each of the four corners of the room held an enormous Christmas tree, decorated in the Cavendish signature gray and silver.

  Most of the women wore black dresses, and faded into the color scheme. But Caitlin stood out like a shimmering angel, with her green dress and bright red hair. She might not have the obvious, sex-kitten appeal of Monica, but Kyle knew every man in the room would notice his date tonight. And toast him as one lucky bastard. He grabbed the flutes and handed one to Caitlin. “Let’s just enjoy the party. Here’s to my best friend for saving my ass, once again.” They clinked glasses.

  “Do you have to schmooze with anyone?” Caitlin asked.

  Just about everyone in the room. But he’d already made one round, and talking to his dad had ratcheted up his irritability. Better to wait a half hour and calm down. “No.”

  “Do you want to dance?”

  God, yes. “No.” The thought of holding Caitlin tight in his arms, feeling her breasts brush against his chest, that cluster of red curls feathered against his cheek—no way would he be able to hide his reaction. Every man had his limits, and tonight Caitlin’s beauty pushed him to the breaking point. For the sake of their friendship, he had to touch her as little as possible. Kyle scrambled for an excuse. “Nobody else is on the dance floor yet.”

  “Do you want to hang out by the door to the kitchen and pounce on all the good appetizers?”

  “If Dad caught me doing that, there’d be hell to pay.”

  Caitlin drained her glass and handed it back to the bartender for a refill. “Damn it, Kyle, this is your party. You’re in a foul mood. What do you want to do? Go sulk in a corner?”

  As usual, his best friend knew exactly what he needed. He grabbed the champagne bottle and nodded. “Great idea. Come with me.” Hoping she’d follow, he made a beeline for the Christmas tree farthest from the door. In a shadowy corner lit only by the strings of tree lights, it was as close as he could come to leaving the party entirely.

  “Okay, when you distance us from the appetizers, I know something is wrong. We won’t have any fun until you get it off your chest.” She patted the starched pleats of his tux shirt. Kyle jerked back from her touch. To cover his reaction, he took a swig directly from the bottle. “Talk to me. Are you upset about Monica? Is she sick?”

  “No.” When her eyes narrowed, he realized he’d be
tter stop the monosyllabic answers before she got fed up and stormed off. “Monica’s not sick. That would be the best case scenario. That would be an excuse I could live with. Monica is at the Exelon company party tonight. The mayor’s supposed to be there, along with the head of the Board of Trade. It’s a better party, according to her.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Yeah. Those same three words had been flashing like neon beer signs in his head since Monica’s call. “Neither do I. Every time she comes into town, I clear my calendar for her. She’s always got some big gala or function, and needs an escort. I go, no questions asked. This is the one time I’ve asked her to be my date. To do me a favor.”

  “Did you tell her about your dad? How this is a command performance, how important it was that she be here?”

  “Over and over again. I even played the aren’t you supposed to be my girlfriend card.” Kyle was pretty sure his balls had shriveled to the size of his iPod earbuds when he used that phrase. Desperation made a man say crazy things. “She apologized, but said she’s the best promotional tool the Selford Chambers has, and it needed her to go where the prospective clients would be.”

  Caitlin crouched to slam her glass onto the floor so hard that bubbles sloshed over the side. Then she rose and fisted her hands on her hips. “The hotel needed her? It’s a hotel. Concrete floors, rebar, windows. It doesn’t have fucking needs. You needed her.”

  Once in a blue moon, Caitlin let slip the reins on her fierce redhead’s temper. It was an awesome thing to behold. As long as she didn’t direct it at him. The righteous wrath she let fly pumped his own outrage even hotter. “I’m trying to be reasonable. I’m not going into this marriage to make googly-eyes and quote poetry. Monica and her precious hotel chain get perks if we marry, and I get my dad’s respect. I can live without love, but holy hell—it’s not asking too much to expect a date to our family’s most important event of the year, is it?”