by Lynn Carmer
Charm School Christmas Karma
A Steamy Holiday Romance
By Lynn Carmer
Charm School Christmas Karma: A Steamy Holiday Romance
Lynn Carmer
eBook ISBN: 978-0-9982237-5-9
Copyright ©2019 by Lynn Carmer
Kindle Edition
Editor: Eliza March
www.ElizaMarch.com
Formatter: BB eBooks
www.bbebooksthailand.com
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Charm School Christmas Karma: A Steamy Holiday Romance
There’s not enough mistletoe in the world, to fix her Christmas Karma.
Ai Zhao, a fiercely independent artist, is suckered into attending a Christmas Auction. An event filled with hunky heroes: firemen, MMA fighters, and boxers auctioning themselves off as dates. The eye-candy is tempting, but she only has eyes for one rugged cop. Even if she agrees to see him, she’d never get to keep him. She made one bad decision, years ago, and fate has made her pay ever since.
Sebastian Jacobs, a dedicated police officer, never believed in destiny until he met Ai. She’s talented and guarded, with a soft streak a mile wide. He plans to wear down her defenses, with wicked words and a little holiday magic. If she agrees to a date, his plans go beyond one night—his plans last a lifetime.
Other Books by Lynn Carmer
Charm School Series
Charm School After Dark: Lesson 1
Charm School Quickie: Lesson 1.5
Charm School All-Nighter: Lesson 2
Charm School Night Play: Lesson 3
Charm School Billionaire Bad Boy: Lesson 4
Victoria Bay Series
Just For Tonight Book 1
Just Don’t Go Book 2
Paranormal/Sci-Fi Romance (Written under Veva Sol)
Fervor (The Fervor Chronicles)
The Lasting (Gargoyle Legend)
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Book
Other Books by Lynn Carmer
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Note from the Author
Contact Me
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Chapter 1
‡
“You’re messing with some dark forces here.” Ai Zhao warned as she stepped through the wide Mahogany doors of the California Craftsman.
“You’re fine.” Dacey Calvo linked arms with Ai and pulled her down the hall. Ms. Belle’s house had served as Sierra Madre, California’s, only charm school for the past fifty years.
Dacey refused to release her, insisting she attend this stupid Christmas Charity Auction. Ai sighed, as dramatically and well…dramatically as possible. Nothing worked.
I give up on humanity. When the good ones turn against you, where’s the hope?
“You’re going to die when you see this.” Dacey’s insistently sunny attitude, especially now that she was getting it on the daily from her snobby boyfriend, was on full display. She had used her irresistible dimples to manipulate childhood friends into attending this over-the-top charity event to keep the bankrupt school open.
Not that Ai minded donating, she loved the old place, had spent many a summer learning manners and etiquette, in order to be a proper young lady. Too bad none of it stuck. But to attend a massive event like this? No. Hell, she’d dole out serious cash right now, if she didn’t have to put her butt in a seat.
“Look.” Dacey stopped and swept her hands toward the large room. “After you.”
“I can’t believe you made me—” Ai’s breath caught in her throat. She looked around the ballroom in awe, not quite able to maintain her ire. It looked like Christmas had gone on a bender and vomited inside every nook and cranny. Mistletoe, holly, elves, snowmen, little baby Jesus’s, ornaments, no less than eight Christmas trees, and Franklin Mint holiday plates were scattered around the room. It was a spectacle and…she loved every inch of it.
“Admit it.” Dacey nudged her in the ribs. “You can’t fool me. You love the holidays. Always have, always will.”
“This?” Her gaze snagged on an ornament that read: The tree isn’t the only one getting lit tonight. “It’s just so many layers of…everything.”
“I know,” Dacey squealed. “Isn’t it perfect? Come on, the event is out back. I picked your seat myself. Second row. I want to be able to see your face if I freak out and forget what to say.”
They made their way to the back of the house. Ai oohed and aahed over miniature menorahs, holly wreaths, and mistletoe the size of her head.
In comparison, the oversized cul-de-sac, surrounded by giant California Oaks, and twinkling fairy lights, looked like a winter wonderland. Like a twisted Candyland—Christmas edition.
“See. You’re happy to be here.”
For a few blissful minutes, Ai had allowed herself to forget what the holidays meant to her. “Dacey, you know how I feel. Christmas Karma is a bitch—and she’s coming for me.”
“She will not.”
“She will. You’ll see.” Ai followed reluctantly. “You’re so lucky, I love you.”
“I am. You love me with every part of your dark heart.”
The massive backyard was overrun, infested really, with giggling women wearing all kinds of slutty holiday gear.
“I need you here for moral support.” Dacey pushed her the last few feet, putting her in full view of the auction stage.
Ai’s stomach dropped. Second row. Absolute worst place for easy escape. Dacey better-the-hell have seated her on the aisle, or she may leave. Taking a deep breath, Ai reminded herself this was about Dacey’s nerves, not her own. “You’re going to kick ass and take names. Don’t sweat it. And if anyone says differently, you tell me and I’ll beat them to a pulp.”
“I believe you.” Dacey, her “bestie for the restie,” hugged her tight. A good fifty or sixty people milled around, most talking, some sitting on the edge of their seats.
Ai shuddered and eyed the exit longingly.
The school’s very first Christmas Charity Auction. It had been hyped as the event of the season. All of the cozy town’s finest would be strutting their stuff. Horny available women would spend their hard earned duckets for services or dates with Sierra Madre’s finest.
Unbelievable.
“I hope you’re flush with cash because these boys look hot. I tried to get Willem to volunteer to be eye-candy, but he said he’d rather, ‘Commit hari-kari than strut around like a peacock.’”
“Your man is nothing if not dramatic.” Ai shook her head and eyed an adorable snowman ornament, wearing a tiny knit cap.
Must have them. Now
.
“Speaking of my Handsome Devil. There he is.” Dacey pointed at Willem, a visually stunning man, dressed in the most expensive suit Ai had ever seen. Dacey’s boyfriend looked like a dream. The symmetry of his face, the perfect blend of raven hair and porcelain skin, drew her artist’s eye. The permanent sneer on his face didn’t ruin his beauty, it only made it more intriguing.
He and Ai had gotten off to a rough start, but she had mad respect for the dismissiveness in which he dealt with most people. Because she felt the same exact way. She didn’t want anything to do with the rowdy crowd.
It wasn’t until Dacey approached Willem that his scowl lifted, replaced by a look of such adoration, Ai took a step back. Dacey ran forward, and Willem tunneled his hands in her hair, holding onto her like a lifeline. Dacey wasn’t just his girlfriend. She appeared to be his reason for breathing.
Ai shuddered, thinking, “What does a girl have to do to make sure no man is ever that dependent on me?”
But her gaze returned to her beautiful friend’s face. Sheer contentment and love burned in Dacey’s turquoise eyes. No one deserved love more. She was the rare example of a stellar human being.
The rest sucked ass.
Ai lifted a hand in greeting. Willem winced and nodded a hello. A few months back, she may have held a rake pointed straight at his dangly parts. Looked like he still hadn’t quite gotten over the trauma.
“Which one is my seat, Dacey?”
Dacey removed her lips from Willem’s neck with a pop and blinked a few times to regain her bearings. “What?”
“Seat. Mine. Where?”
“Right this way.” She escorted her to her chair. “Best seats in the house. You’re next to Ren. We only have about ten minutes until the show begins. Wish me luck.”
Ai blew Dacey a kiss and sat. She’d met Ren a few times, and in each encounter, Ren had worn a different wig. Today, she’d donned a simple blond bob, topped by a Santa hat, which was dangerously cute. She might be able to tolerate sitting next to her, if…
She didn’t talk too much.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
As time ticked by, more and more people streamed in. The noise level was almost unbearable. No matter how much she loved Christmas, and adored Dacey, she couldn’t believe her best friend was making her attend this nightmare scenario. What the hell did Ai know about auctions? She worked hard for her money. She’d never spend it on a man.
Pay for a date? Puh-lease. Never.
The crush of people overwhelmed her. Everyone knew she was a strict introvert. The sheer number of bodies drained her, made her feel itchy in her own skin, as if they all drank straight from her mojo tap, leaving her disoriented and anxious.
“Can you believe this turnout? The Quads know how to throw a party.” Ren chuckled.
Dacey was one of four quadruplets, known around town as the Quads. They had inherited the school from their mentor, Ms. Belle, who’d passed almost a year ago.
Ms. Belle had declared Ai her greatest failure because she’d been unable and unwilling to bend to societal rules, even back then. But the matriarch’s rebuke never stung. On the last day of summer classes, she’d hugged her and whispered, “Never change, love.”
She may have taken that advice way too seriously—to the consternation of her parents and extended family.
“I can’t wait.” Ren bopped in her seat. “I’ve got my cash ready.” The girl pulled out a wad of one-dollar bills, enough to seriously make it rain.
“Are you planning on visiting the Champagne Room?” Ai lifted a brow.
“If they were real strippers, I totally would. Look! They have a catalog.” Ren ran her finger down the bios of each of the male participants. “These guys are so gorgeous. We can peruse and bid. Like we’re ordering them online. There are firefighters, MMA fighters, and look, this one’s a cop. He’s hot.”
Ai closed her eyes. No need to look. She had his face memorized. Sergeant Sebastian Jacobs, six plus feet of solid, manly muscle. Wide shoulders, smart blue eyes, and an easy smile he only showed his closest friends. That he’d shown her. Others saw the commanding cop with blond hair and a rugged chin. He had been semi-stalking her when Dacey and Willem were first dating. He’d returned multiple times to ask her out but eventually gave up when she refused.
She’d thought of him every day, since.
“Isn’t he perfection?” Ren asked.
“No.”
“I don’t believe you.” Ren sing-songed.
Ren clearly sucked at body language. What else did Ai need to say to get her to stop with the chit chat. Especially about Sebastian.
“No harm in looking. Dear Lord, look at him, and him.” Ren exclaimed over the men but couldn’t manage to peel her eyes off the brochure long enough to show Ai who she was talking about.
“I’m currently off men.”
“What?” Ren blinked and reemerged from behind the pages. “Why?”
“Because I am a crusher of men. A she-beast who sucks the souls of unsuspecting males.” Ai fought back a grin as she watched the slow-motion drop of Ren’s mouth. “And I promised Dacey I wouldn’t make a mess.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I’m just not in the mood.”
That should keep any potential friendly, good feelings, at bay. Her life currently had far too many people in it. For the thousandth time, she contemplated hiking a trail in the San Gabriel Mountains, stocking a cave full of raw materials for her work, and never returning.
Ren dropped the pamphlet, threw her head back, and laughed. A great honking chortle that startled the women sitting next to her. More than a few side-eyed her merriment.
Ai narrowed her gaze to see how Ren would react to their censure, but she kept on gurgling, slapping her thigh until one lone tear leaked out of the side of her eye.
Damn it. Ai sighed and accepted the inevitable. She couldn’t help herself. Strong women who didn’t give two fucks about what others thought, melted her heart. That fast, Ren became one of Ai’s people. It always happened that way. She was either all in or out. Mostly the later, but she didn’t bother to fight this one. She liked Ren’s vibe too much. Which meant if she wanted to show her pictures of hunky dudes, she’d allow it.
“You’re hysterical.” Ren scooped up her booklet and dove right back into the photos. “Okay, it looks like they’re auctioning off all kinds of things. Tickets to future charm classes, free boxing, martial arts lessons from the hot guys, and…yes.” Ren squinted, “These last guys down here, at the end, are auctioning off dates. Look!”
Ren shoved the book in her face, and Ai’s gaze jumped to Sebastian. Her stomach clenched. His handsome face made her weak. If they hadn’t met before, in person—and she hadn’t wallowed in his masculine scent—maybe she would have felt differently. All American poster boys usually made her shrug.
Except she’d glimpsed the kindness behind his reserved picture in uniform. The patience that had dimmed each time she refused to go out with him. It had killed her, but that boy dealt in absolutes. Ai had no time for forever, or promised commitment that, no matter how well intentioned, would fade over time. Or crash and burn.
Not today. “He’s okay, I guess.” She adjusted her messy bun and shrugged.
“Do you know him?” Ren’s avid gaze was too discerning.
“Barely. He’s close friends with Dacey.” Determined to change the subject, Ai latched onto the Ren’s tendency to avoid one particular contestant. “How come you didn’t mention him?” Ai pointed to the center of the page.
“Him?” Ren slammed the booklet shut. “Why would I mention him?”
“Because you’re practically drooling over the page.” The swell of the crowd pressed in. Ai’s gaze crept around the space, searching for the nearest exit, trying to find a way to ground herself or else she’d be swept away by the crazy energy. No luck. “I normally wouldn’t care, but I’ve decided I might like you. So, spill. Although, please don’t take it as an invitation to share other information about y
ourself. I’m limiting the convo to what I can handle right now. Okay?”
“You think we’re going to be friends?” Ren’s panicked gaze softened. She reached over and placed her hand over Ai’s. “That makes me so happy.”
“Lower your expectations. I don’t have time to talk to my friends, anyway.”
Ren ignored her and continued, “I also know you’re a little overwhelmed by what’s going on here. Feel free to give my hand a little squeeze whenever you need to.”
Ai blinked in surprise. Yup. She liked her. She gripped her hand in answer. And didn’t let go. “You going to answer my question?”
Ren scowled but didn’t pull back. “If you mean that guy,” she pointed down at the page, “his nickname is the Cuban. And well…how could a girl not look at him? He’s dreamy.”
Ai picked up the book, her eyes running over the fierce MMA fighter. “If you say so. He looks kind of mean to me.”
“I know. Isn’t he amazing? She sighed. “I guess if I’m honest, I’m currently off men, too. Don’t ask.”
“Happily.” Ai flinched when the heart-thumping electronica blared. Hundreds of horny ladies, and a few men, were seated around her. But it felt more like on top of her. The lights dimmed and the crowd fell silent.
“Feliz Navidad and Happy Holidays. Let the auction begin!”
Chapter 2
‡
Ai watched Dacey Calvo glide across the makeshift stage. She owned it. The outdoor lighting made her off-the-shoulder, sequined sweater twinkle under the Christmas lights.
Ai’s low-level worry faded infinitesimally. With silence came the perception of the cool night breeze ruffling her hair and cooling the back of her neck. The crowd had settled, and if her panic flared and she needed to exit for a few minutes, no one would notice. It relaxed her enough to ease her hand out of Ren’s.
She and Ren were a study in contrast. Ai usually wore black. Tonight, was no different with her black sweater and jeans. While Ren wore red and green, looking like a walking Christmas tree. It was a small miracle Ai had bothered to change out of her paint-splattered PJ’s.
