A Little Holiday Temptation

by Janice Sims

  Ana was afraid to interrupt. Sometimes you just had to be quiet and let the other person talk.

  “Growing up I went through all kinds of emotions concerning Mari. Sometimes I hated her. Sometimes I missed her so much it hurt. Sometimes I prayed that she’d come back to us. When she did come back I felt cheated because she didn’t have very much time left. Have I forgiven her? I realize that my forgiving her means nothing, she’s gone, but, yeah, I guess I have forgiven her even though I sometimes still feel like that little lost boy inside. Because of her I was afraid of letting go and truly loving someone until you came along with your own neuroses.” He smiled at her.

  Ana laughed. “Yeah, me and my trust issues.”

  “You weren’t the only one with issues. Loving you has freed me. I’m not afraid of being abandoned anymore.”

  “And I trust you,” said Ana, smiling up at him.

  “Good,” said Erik, bending his head to claim her mouth in a searing kiss that left her weak in the knees. As he pulled her firmly against him Ana realized he’d recovered from their earlier session in bed and was ready to go again. She smiled against his hungry mouth. She fleetingly wondered if the shower floor were too slippery for them to make love right here. Erik’s back was against the tiles. Now the shower’s spray was hitting the back of Ana’s body. She gazed up. “Do you think we could do it here?”

  Erik shook his head in the negative. “No, baby, I’m not going to take a chance on you getting hurt.”

  Ana’s stomach growled loud enough for both of them to hear.

  “Besides, you’re hungry,” Erik said. “Come on, let’s dry off. I’m a big boy, I can wait.”

  Ana looked pointedly at his erection, her expression doubtful. “Are you sure?”

  “It’ll calm down in a minute,” Erik joked.

  So they dried off, Ana put on her bathrobe, styled her damp hair in a hastily done braid down her back, and Erik slipped into his clothes of jeans and shirt. They went into the kitchen where Ana fired up the grill and put the prepared salmon and the potatoes on it while Erik set the table. They talked while they worked.

  “Damon thinks the show is going to be a hit.” She told him about her visit with Damon today. “I’m nervous.”

  “You have no need to be,” Erik said with confidence. “You’re brilliant.”

  “I’m an unknown entity,” she said realistically. “The critics will tear me to shreds. A model trying to paint, they’ll say? It’s hilarious. That gossip show, I can’t remember what it’s called…”

  “Anyway,” Ana said as she adjusted the temperature on the grill, being mindful that fish cooked quickly, “they’ll probably have people stationed outside the gallery getting opinions from people leaving the show and even if they like my work they’ll have catty remarks for the viewing audience.”

  “You’ll let it roll off your back,” Erik said. “You’ve soldiered through bad reviews before.”

  “Yeah, but they didn’t matter,” Ana said. “I learned to detach my emotions from what people said about me.”

  “Same thing,” Erik said. “You’ll survive. We all have to take the knocks when we’re doing something we love and are not going with the flow anymore. Independent thinkers are usually deemed nuts until everyone realizes they were on to something all along. At least you’re doing what your heart desires. Imagine all the people out there who never took the risk. We could have had any number of inventors with wonderful ideas that never got off the launching pad. Writers who wrote great novels that never saw the light of day. Stick to your dreams.”

  “God, I love you!” Ana exclaimed, her eyes dancing with delight. She peeked at the salmon on the grill. “I think the fish is ready. But the potatoes need to stay on the grill a little longer so the skins will get crisp.”

  “She’s beautiful and she cooks,” said Erik.

  “Well, she cooks some things,” Ana said. “I’m slowly learning. I won’t be writing a cookbook anytime soon.”

  “Then you’d say you’re not a domestic goddess?” joked Erik.

  “If it’s a domestic goddess you want to marry, keep looking,” Ana said truthfully. “I’m messy and, while I like to cook, I can prepare only around seven dishes with any hope of them turning out edible.”

  “Don’t worry, darling, I can cook,” Erik assured her.

  “That’s right, you can,” said Ana as if the thought had just occurred to her. Erik had fed her numerous times. He wasn’t a master chef, but he knew his way around a pasta dish and grilled a steak to perfection. And his pancakes were to die for. He’d learned his culinary skills from Drusilla whose belief was men needed to know how to feed themselves and not base their search for a mate on whether or not she could cook. Women have to work nowadays just like men, Drusilla told him. And no matter how much money you have you should never have to depend on someone else preparing your meals.

  “Your grandmother taught you well,” she said. “I have to thank her next time I see her.”

  “Which will be on Thanksgiving,” Erik reminded her.

  “Yes, and I must remember not to wear my ring into the house because she’ll spot it like a hawk on a mouse,” Ana said, laughing.

  “You’ve got that right,” Erik agreed, imagining Drusilla’s expression when they told her about the engagement. She would happily shout “Hallelujah!”

  To be honest, he felt like shouting it himself.

  Chapter 7

  Like every holiday season, that period between Halloween and New Year’s Eve, time seemed to speed up for Ana. The first week of November she had to fly to Tahiti to be filmed and photographed in a tropical setting for Dare’s spring campaign. The perfume she represented in print and TV ads was selling quite well and there was talk of a whole line of complementary products to go with the perfume: shampoo, conditioner, skin lotion and bath salts. When she arrived for the shoot she thought someone would mention her weight gain but Josh Cannon, who worked for the cosmetics company and was coordinating the shoot, only said, “You look gorgeous, so full of life, what’s your secret?”

  Ana laughed and said, “I’m in love.”

  “That’s better than cosmetic surgery,” Josh avowed, laughing along with her.

  Later that day Ana had cracked up when she was being poured into an ankle-length billowy white dress whose tight bodice produced prodigious cleavage and the wardrobe lady remarked, “Have you had a boob job since the last time I dressed you?”

  “No, just a bit of happy weight,” Ana told her.

  Ana enjoyed the shoot. The weather was balmy compared to New York City’s and she was spoiled between sessions with fresh fruit and spring water and the male model working with her had a repertoire of jokes that kept her laughing.

  At the end of the shoot she got to see some of the film footage. Josh was right. She looked extremely happy and healthy. She and the male model appeared very much in love as they walked on the beach, shared a romantic dinner and stood wrapped in each other’s arms as the breezes ruffled her dress and hair, the backdrop of the beach at night augmenting the sensual feel of the scene.

  With the job done, she got the first flight back to New York. She arrived at JFK on a Saturday afternoon and was met at the terminal by Erik who picked her up in a bear hug as if he hadn’t seen her in weeks instead of mere days.

  Ana dropped her carry-on bags and hugged him tightly, breathing in his male essence as she did so, “I can’t believe I’ve only been gone a few days. You were constantly on my mind.”

  Erik was too busy kissing her to answer her. And Ana forgot everything as they gave each other a proper hello. But they had to come up for air sometime and when they did, Erik said, “I think I must be addicted to you. No matter how busy I was I couldn’t help remembering how you sound, how you smell, how you feel.”

  “You’re so
sweet,” Ana said, reaching up to wipe the lipstick from his lower lip with the pad of her thumb. She was happy he’d missed her as much as she’d missed him. They picked up her bags and made their way across the terminal, talking all the way.

  “How did it go?” he asked.

  “It was great, everyone concentrated on their jobs. No drama. It was a dream shoot.”

  “Good,” Erik said, his arm about her waist. Lucky for him Ana packed lightly for her frequent jaunts so he had a free arm to hug her with. The way she put it her employers provided her wardrobe, anyway. She needed to pack only the necessities.

  “How was work for you?” she returned.

  “Headaches,” said Erik. “We’re experiencing some suspicious losses at our dairy in Minnesota. I’m going to have to go check it out on Monday.”

  “Minnesota,” Ana said glumly, “Where it’s already probably below freezing this time of year?”

  “You betcha,” Erik joked with a passable Minnesotan accent.

  Laughing, Ana said, “I’m not inviting myself along on this trip.”

  Erik squeezed her. “You mean you don’t like biting wind and snow? I was going to suggest a cabin in Aspen over the Christmas holidays.”

  “Just you and I?” asked Ana, her interest piqued.

  “We don’t need anyone else.”

  “That, I’m up for,” Ana assured him.

  “Then I’ll reserve our cabin,” Erik promised.

  In the back of her mind Ana was thinking this would be the first time in years she hadn’t gone home for Christmas. How would her parents take the news? She’d joked with Sophia about going someplace romantic with Erik, but that had only been wishful thinking.

  They walked on in silence and when they got to the car Erik had hired so that he wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of parking, he held the door open for her. Once the driver pulled away from the curb, he said, “Something on your mind?”

  “I haven’t missed Christmas in Milan since I moved here,” she told him.

  “Sweetheart, I’ll understand if you want to go home for Christmas.”

  Ana looked deeply in his eyes. She saw only love and trust reflected back at her. Yes, he would make the sacrifice if it would make her happy.

  “Would you go with me?”

  “Sorry, I just couldn’t spare the travel time,” Erik said regrettably. “My work schedule won’t allow it. Aspen I could do, but not Italy.”

  Yes, Ana thought sadly, going to Milan was not just a weekend getaway.

  “I’ll wait and go home in the New Year,” she decided. She would miss her family and all the accoutrements of Christmas with them provided. However, she and Erik were building a life together. Time and effort went into a good relationship.

  He smiled. “I’m serious. I would understand.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “But you work so hard. It would be great to get away for a couple days alone with you. Aspen, it is.”

  “All right,” Erik conceded. However he still felt unsure about the situation.

  * * *

  On Monday after he’d boarded the company plane for Minnesota he put in a call to Abby. She answered in her usual efficient manner, “What can I do for you, Erik?”

  “I have a dilemma,” Erik said. “One that needs your special touch. Let me explain.”

  Five minutes later Erik could hear the smile in Abby’s voice when she said, “I’d be happy to arrange everything. Consider it done.”

  “You’re a godsend, Abby,” said Erik with warmth. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Abby had laughed softly. “Just make sure I get an invitation to the wedding.”

  “You and Harry will be there to dance the night away,” Erik promised. “See you when I get back.”

  “Have a safe trip,” Abby said and rang off.

  Erik hung up the phone and relaxed in the plush leather seat. The flight attendant stopped next to him. “We’re getting ready to take off, Mr. Whitaker. Please buckle your seat belt and turn off any electronic devices.”

  In Minneapolis, a hired car was waiting to take him to the nearby town where the plant manager and key members of his staff were waiting to meet with him. He enjoyed the scenery as the car sped toward the plant. Cows grazed in pastures. It was snowing but not heavily. He supposed it was still too early for one of Minnesota’s snowstorms. But it was definitely cold outside at 28 degrees. And the wind was biting. He had checked the weather before the trip, though, so he was dressed warmly enough.

  His cell phone rang and he took it out of his inside coat pocket and glanced at the display. It was his father, John. “Hey, Dad, what’s up?”

  “Just thought you should be advised that when I acquired the plant in Harris, Minnesota, the plant manager and the owner were at odds,” he said. “I had both of them vetted and decided that if the owner sold, the manager could keep his job. Olsen is a good man. Hadn’t had any trouble since then, till now. Harris is a small town and relatives of the former owner work at the plant. Maybe one of them holds a grudge.”

  “That’s a possibility,” said Erik. “We’ll see.” He already had a plan in the works.

  * * *

  Later, at the meeting, Jim Olsen, the plant manager appeared relieved to see Erik. He was a tall, heavyset man with blond hair and brows and a somewhat florid face. He introduced the other four persons seated around the conference room table. Then he and Erik sat down. “I’m sorry you had to come all this way,” he began. “But the accountants were unable to pinpoint exactly why we’ve experienced losses in the last two quarters.”

  Jim had emailed Erik files with the most recent numbers. Erik noticed a ten percent drop in profits in the past nine months. His auditors found that the amount of stock ordered by stores remained high. However stores were reporting that they were not receiving the right amount of stock they had ordered. To Erik that meant someone was intercepting outgoing stock before it could be shipped to stores. In which case he had to discover who was doing it and get proof of their guilt. To that end, a week ago he had hired a local private detective to keep the loading dock under surveillance until further notice. He told this to the five people sitting at the conference table with him now. “I’m expecting the detective any minute,” he informed them.

  Erik wasn’t sure his hunch was correct, but what his father had earlier told him made him somewhat confident that he was on the right track.

  Jim Olsen’s secretary stuck her head in the conference room. “Mr. Olsen, there is a Ms. Valerie Estes here to see you. She says she has important information for you.”

  His color turning even more florid, Jim hastily stood. “Show her in, Ms. Bern.”

  A tall brunette dressed in a dark pantsuit and a heavy coat entered the room carrying a black satchel. Erik noticed that when she set the bag on the conference table she did it with care. Jim made hasty introductions and once Erik had been identified, Ms. Estes gave him an almost imperceptible nod with a slight smile on her face. “I believe I have the information you requested, Mr. Whitaker,” she said, her tone businesslike. From her satchel she retrieved a laptop, which she set on the conference table, opened and switched on. In only a couple of minutes she clicked on a file and opened it. “Please take a look at this,” she said.

  Everyone gathered around the laptop’s screen and watched as a man approached the loading dock of the plant. It was early morning according to the time posted at the bottom of the screen. It was still dark out. He unlocked the loading-dock door and since it was the rolling kind, he pushed up on it and the mechanism did the rest. Then the viewing audience noticed a large van being backed up to the loading dock. Two other men got out and leaped onto the dock and followed the first man into the plant. Minutes later they returned with hand trucks loaded with boxes of the plant’s dairy products.r />
  “Do you recognize those men?” asked Erik of the five plant employees in the conference room. No one said a word, but Erik could tell they did. He sighed. It was time to clean house.

  After a couple minutes, Jim spoke up. “I’m sorry to say one of them is my son, Jim, Jr. I don’t know the names of the other two, although they look familiar.”

  “I do,” said Bob Holstein, supervisor of the shipping department. “I hired them about a year ago.” He looked regrettably at Jim. “Jim, Jr. recommended them.”

  Erik turned to Jim and placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly.

  “Look, there is no easy way to do this, but I’ll give you two options. You can fire Jim, Jr. and the other two men and have security cameras installed in the loading area. That was an oversight. Or we can let the police handle it. I’m truly sorry it turned out this way.”

  “So am I,” Jim said with a hangdog expression. His fellow employees offered sympathy. Erik pulled the private detective aside. “Thank you for your assistance, Ms. Estes.”

  “Sometimes,” she said with a glance in Jim Olsen’s direction, “this job sucks.”

  Erik knew what she meant. He felt bad for Jim Olsen. However the situation had to be handled and the culprits punished.

  When the conference room had been cleared of everyone except him and Jim Olsen, he looked at Jim with regret. “I realize at this point you don’t think things can go back to how they were before this incident, but they can. My father tells me you’re a good man, Jim. You run this plant well and you’re fair with your employees. They obviously respect you. What’s more, you seem to enjoy your job. Don’t let this affect your satisfaction in it. I don’t hold you responsible for what happened here.” He held out his hand.

  Jim gratefully shook it and said, “It’s going to be hard. My wife will cry her heart out over the situation. Jim, Jr. has been in trouble before, and we thought he was trying to straighten his life out.”