David entered and stared across the room at Hannah. “It went well, yes.”
No one said anything more for a few moments.
“Well,” Sarah said, “I think I hear my television calling me. It’s upstairs, if anyone’s interested. Where I’ll be. With the door closed. And the TV on at high volume so I won’t be able to hear anything but the stupid program I’m watching. In case anyone cares. Which I doubt.” She left her roommate and their visitor standing on opposite sides of the room, silent and staring.
Hannah finally spoke. “Shouldn’t you be cleaning up after the party? Or something?”
“My staff said they’d take care of it. I told them we had a conversation to finish.”
She groaned. “Oh, God, is there anyone who doesn’t know about this?”
“I’m not sure I know about this. Whatever it is. But if you’ll tell me, maybe I can try and make it right.”
She looked at the floor, her eyes shut, and muttered, “I heard what you said on the phone.”
He came closer. “You’re whispering. Say again.”
She raised her head and her voice. “I heard what you said on the phone.”
“What I said? When?”
“Tuesday. Around lunchtime. When I brought some Christmas cookies to your office for you. I heard you say—”
“You brought me Christmas cookies? I never got them.” He was close enough to put his hands on her shoulders, but she shook them off when he tried.
“That’s not the point.”
“Then tell me what the point is.”
“I heard you say I was cute like a puppy dog, but I was high maintenance and you could hardly wait to get rid of me so you could get your life back.”
“Puppy dog? You thought I called you a puppy dog?” He struggled to suppress a smile and failed. In fact, the smile progressed rapidly to a grin and then a laugh.
“You think it’s funny I heard you call me that? Heard what you really think of me? I thought you were talking to Mr. Austin, but he denied it. I don’t know who you were talking to, but it hurt.”
David fumbled in his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. He touched the screen, then swiped it a couple times without saying anything.
Hannah’s embarrassment was quickly being replaced with anger. “You’re not even denying it? You’re just laughing at me and playing with your phone?”
He turned the phone around so she could see the screen.
She glanced at the image—of a dog. “What’s that got to do with it?”
“Everything. Remember how on Sunday I had to go meet my sister about a present for my niece? Well, here’s the present—a Jack Russell puppy. My sister picked her up from the breeder on Sunday, but needed someplace to stash her until the birthday party. The puppy has been my roommate since then. Jack Russells are notorious for needing a lot of attention, it turns out. You overheard me complaining to my sister that if I’d known that, I might have said no, even though she plays on my sympathy all the time.”
“But you said you could hardly wait until Christmas was over. How can you love Christmas but want it over with?”
“This year, it’s easy. In a wonderful ironic twist, my nice, observant Jewish sister produced her daughter on Christmas Day ten years ago.”
“Oh.”
“Oh is all you have to say?”
“Well, maybe, I’m sorry.”
“Maybe you’re sorry? Oh, sweetheart, you can do better than that.” By this time, he had Hannah in his arms and was kissing her forehead, cheeks, and nose between words. She didn’t resist.
“Okay, I’m definitely sorry. I was sure what I heard was about me. And so disappointed because you said you wanted Christmas over with. Just when I’d—”
“Just when you’d begun to think you could enjoy the season?” This time the kiss landed on her mouth, with all the tenderness and affection she could have wanted.
Then he abruptly pulled his head back. “Wait. Let’s get back to the cookies. I didn’t know Scrooge could bake. And where are they?”
“I gave them to a homeless woman and her son.”
“You did a good deed in the spirit of the season even when you were pissed off! Wow. I’m better at this Christmas Carol stuff than I thought. But you owe me cookies.” He touched his thumb to her lower lip. “And an admission that you had a good time making doll clothes for Hannah ... ”
She nibbled on his thumb. “And I owe you a thank-you for being the elf who told Mr. Austin about my clothing designs. He’s going to introduce me to one of our manufacturers to see if he’d be interested in producing my line for the stores.”
“So, let me see—you got to relive some Christmas happiness from your childhood on Peacock Lane, you gave a little girl the best Christmas of her life, you baked Christmas cookies and cleaned up at dreidel, and Santa Austin is making your dreams come true. Does that mean ... ?”
“It means I give up. I can’t fight anymore. I loved Christmas this year. I didn’t even mind the last-minute Christmas rush at the store. You’ve won the bet.”
“Yeah, I know I have. I knew I’d win the first time I saw you with Hannah, too. But you realize I have no intention of waiting ’til New Year’s for the kiss I won, don’t you?”
“I was hoping you’d collect tonight.”
“I think I can make that wish come true, too.”
Winter Fairy
Lola Karns
Avon, Massachusetts
This edition published by
Crimson Romance
an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
10151 Carver Road, Suite 200
Blue Ash, Ohio 45242
www.crimsonromance.com
Copyright © 2012 by Lyra Totten-Naylor
ISBN 10: 1-4405-5474-9
ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5474-2
eISBN 10: 1-4405-5475-7
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5475-9
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
Cover art © istockphoto.com/kali9, 123rf.com
To my husband, Tom. Thanks for all you’ve done to help me chase my dreams.
Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
The author may develop the idea, but it takes a lot of people to make a book. Thank you Jennifer Lawler and the excellent team at Crimson Romance. It’s a privilege to be included in the terrific group of Crimson Romance authors.
Thank you Legos, for keeping my children occupied while I did edits.
I’m grateful to the dancers I’ve met who shared their dreams and realities with me. Our conversations shaped Penelope’s motivations.
Last, but not least, thank you Mom, for driving me to and from countless dance classes until I was old enough to drive myself, and Dad for the homemade place to practice my tap dancing, no matter how much it hurt your ears.
Chapter 1
August
Change, change now. Cursing the red light, Carson Langley drummed his hands on the steering wheel. As much as he disliked taking work home, he hated being late even more, especially when he was seeing Eloise. Today, he carried home a stack of papers and hoped he would make it for at least the last half of her show. Otherwise, she would be mad — and rightfully so.
He parked a block away a
nd ran up the stairs two at a time, hoping he didn’t sweat so much that he smelled bad in the sweltering summer sun. He rolled up his long sleeves. Several ladies scowled as he entered the warm room with rows of folding chairs. At last, one friendly face greeted him. His neighbor, Jen, waved him to an empty seat beside her in the first row.
“Thanks, Jen.”
“No problem. I was beginning to worry about you. They just finished the warm-up. Eloise has been looking for you.” Of course she had. He made a promise.
“I’d say she’s found me.” He grinned. Before him stood Eloise, a vision in pink and purple. She wore a blush leotard, ballerina pink tights, a pale lavender skirt and glittery fairy wings in mottled rose and violet. Most importantly, she wore a huge ear-to-ear gap-toothed smile that grew impossibly wide when their eyes met.
“Daddy!” Eloise looked ready to break rank and run to him in her clumsy but enthusiastic gait. He breathed a sigh of relief. He made it.
A sudden burst of music stopped her in her place. A giggle rang forth, so light it reminded him of a wind chime, so beautiful that he eagerly awaited the next gust of wind. The giggler stood, pressing her fingertips to her mouth and shrugging her shoulders. She was taller than the other fairies. He guessed she stood closer to 5’7" than 3’6". The woman wore shimmery blue-green wings that reminded him of the water off the small island where he honeymooned years ago. She had a blond pixie cut and large blue eyes that gave her the look of an overgrown Tinkerbell. When she moved, light reflected off her body like tiny fireworks. This must Eloise’s infamous Miss Penny.
She pressed a button on the stereo. Classical music filled the air. He’d heard it before, perhaps on a commercial or maybe in an elevator. A sharp clap interrupted his thoughts and drew the attention of all the whispering wiggly five- and six-year-old girls.
“Fairies of Woodland Falls, let’s show your mommies and daddies all the different ways fairies move through the forest.” She elongated the word “all,” practically singing it.
The little fairy princesses walked across the makeshift stage of their usual dance studio. The giggly fairy queen, as Carson thought of her, entreated her fairy trainees to perform. The girls demonstrated a range of moves. They tiptoed past a sleeping bear and hid behind a tree. In this case, half the class pretended to be trees and the fairies skipped sideways to move from tree to tree before the two groups switched. When Eloise peeked over the shoulder of a shorter girl and waved at him, he stifled a laugh, but it soon erupted from him and the other adults as the girls walked like fairies pretending to be elephants. The fairy queen unabashedly stomped around, tickling the girls with her pink feather duster trunk and inspiring giggles all around.
He thought the fairy class sounded dopey when the dance school added it partway through the summer. Since then, he’d almost grown tired of hearing Eloise talk about the class, especially since he lacked the vocabulary to understand her. He wouldn’t know the difference between a chassé and a plié if they bit him in the ass. Only Eloise’s enthusiasm made the conversations bearable. But watching her perform today made him glad Jen had talked him in to it by offering to drive his daughter along with her own. The Millers were great neighbors. Thanks to Jen, Eloise glowed.
The mini-show ended with each girl getting a chance to “fly.” The fairy queen lifted each girl in turn to show off her flying pose. One girl wanted to twirl around with her arms and legs wrapped tightly around the fairy queen’s torso. Another girl looked like she did a big jumping jack. Some girls stretched out their arms, aping a superhero in flight.
His daughter waited by the side. She looked nervous and stubborn. He hoped she would try this and not suddenly veer into a tantrum. Some parents had begun whispering and gathering their belongings in anticipation of the end. The distraction might be enough to set off her temper, which always seemed to simmer under the surface, even when she appeared to be in a good mood.
He worried needlessly this time. Her starting position halfway across the room drew people’s attention. His heart skipped a beat. His normally reticent little girl took a running leap into the fairy queen’s arms and ended with her arms and legs wide open above the fairy queen’s head to the sound of gasping parents. The fairy queen held her there briefly before gently returning her back to the earth as they spun around. The crowd applauded enthusiastically. Eloise wore the biggest grin he’d seen on her face in three years. Finally.
Mothers in the crowd rushed to escort their little girls to the communal changing room. Carson stood apart from the crowd, uncomfortable as one of the few men there. He wanted to remove Eloise’s wings at least, but she refused. She talked a mile a minute.
“Daddy, did you see me twirl? I got glitter in my hair and I get to bring my wand home and … ”
Carson saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye an instant before her melodious voice reached his ears.
“Doctor Langley! It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. Eloise talks about you all the time. My name is Penelope Glazier. I’ve been Eloise’s instructor for the fairy class.”
The woman had glitter on her darkened eyelashes. The effect was a bit startling up close and seemed more appropriate to a nightclub — but when the class performed, her eyes had sparkled, sucking him in. Her rose petal pink lips stretched into a smile as she extended a hand. Her slender hand, still warm from exertion, fit pleasantly inside his. Up close, he became even more aware that her skin tight leotard left little to the imagination. He glanced away from her gaze long enough to notice a dewy sheen on her cleavage.
“Thank you. Eloise enjoyed the class.” He wondered how a handshake could seem both too short and yet long enough for his surroundings to slip away. He explained it away as a mere biological response to the touch of a living, breathing, sweaty woman. It happened sometimes. Now and then he noticed an attractive woman at the gym or poolside. But Eloise came first.
“Miss Penny, Miss Penny, I have a present for you!” A red haired moppet dashed up to the teacher holding a small wrapped box. She then threw her little arms around the tall fairy before dropping the box on the floor and picking it back up again. “It’s a fairy necklace!”
Ms. Glazier indicated he should wait, raising a blue opalescent fingernail. She knelt to the little girl’s level and opened the box. “It’s beautiful.”
He recognized the Abby Cadabby necklace designed for children. He bought a similar one for Eloise last year at the peak of her Sesame Street obsession.
“Did you pick this out yourself, Alissa?”
Alissa nodded enthusiastically.
“Thank you.” She hugged the girl as her mother approached, half apologizing for the present.
“Ms. Price, I’m touched by your daughter’s kindness. She is a delight to have in class. I look forward to seeing you next term.”
He followed her gaze and saw several more children headed their way. Shifting uncomfortably, he wondered how much longer he would have to wait, especially since he saw the divorcee whose clinginess at their last meeting inspired fear. The teacher hadn’t singled out any other parent. Was this because he was a single dad? A quick glance at her hand revealed the absence of jewelry on her ring finger. Women who hit on him in front of Eloise really pissed him off. He hoped she wasn’t that sort. She seemed more intriguing than that. Or maybe he’d been suckered in by her eyes.
With an apologetic glance she said, “It’s a little crazy right now. I had no idea what to expect. Perhaps I could telephone you at home?”
Still skeptical of her motives, he hesitated, challenging her to fill the silence with an explanation.
“I wanted to speak with you about Eloise and her progress.”
Even through the distracting glitter, her blue eyes flashed sincerity. Generally, he didn’t like talking to strangers on the phone outside of work, although he hoped to hear her laugh again. Then again, she presented t
his as a professional call, not unlike dozens of other conversations with teachers over the past few years. He pulled out a business card and scribbled a number on the back. “Sometime between eight-thirty and ten would be best.” He noticed the divorcee trying to catch a glimpse of the card. “It’s unlisted.”
Palming the card, Ms. Glazier peeked at the woman in question, as if understanding his hesitancy. “I’ll be discrete.”
She quickly twirled and kneeled at the same time to look eye to eye with Eloise. His little girl beamed with delight. “Bye, my lovely assistant fairy. Take good care of your wings.”
Eloise giggled and threw her arms around her teacher with such enthusiasm that the two wobbled a bit before regaining their balance. “I will. And until I turn into a fairy for real, I’ll make sure to feed the other ones so they’ll like me.”
Carson wondered if this explained why he found potato chips underneath the hedges when he mowed the lawn last weekend.
Hugging Eloise again, the dance instructor rubbed a hand gently on her shoulder. “Fairy thee well!”
His daughter laughed as Carson pulled her from the crowd, still enthusiastically talking about the class.
• • •
Wrapping herself in a fluffy blue bathrobe, Penelope felt renewed after scrubbing the glitter from her hair and face. She loved the feeling of taking off her make-up and coming clean after a long day or evening at work. The speed at which soap and water dissolved what could take hours to apply proved magic existed every day. Her skin was a blank palette, full of potential and ready for anything. Tonight, her skin screamed for a non-greasy lotion.
She stretched, walked to the kitchenette and opened the refrigerator. A quick inspection revealed she desperately needed to go to the farmer’s market and the grocery store. She sighed and debated whether she could throw something together quickly or if she would be forced to get dressed and go across the yard to her parents’ suburban Chicago kitchen. She opened the solitary kitchen cabinet and discovered she was out of rice, tuna and pasta. Her parents had been right. Years of living in hotels and eating at restaurants had diminished her culinary skills, especially advance meal planning. At least her ability to make tuna casserole and a wicked lemon garlic vinaigrette remained intact. Sighing, she returned to the other side of the apartment and quickly pulled on a tank top, athletic shorts, and a pair of sneakers. She suspected she’d postponed grocery shopping just so she’d have a good excuse to invite herself over for dinner.
Tidings of Love Page 39
