Ask Her at Christmas

by Christi Barth

  But her heart gave a little stutter every time she considered leaving Chicago, and Kyle, behind. The glamorous life of travel sounded more than a bit lonely. Or maybe not. Finally putting school behind her meant a fresh start, in every way. She'd dated college guys, artsy guys, and Board of Trade guys. Maybe it was time to dip her toe in the water in other states. Maybe do a whole national comparison thing, and date a guy in every state? Write a blog pointing out the pros and cons by region? Or at least email her findings to Brooke and Raquel. They'd get a kick out of it.

  "I've got a bottle of champagne on ice. The minute you hear, I'd better be your first call."

  "If you're bribing me with champagne, of course you'll be first." The carols increased in volume, as did the squeals from the children in front of them. "Great, we're almost there. Welcome to Christmas proposal, version 2.0."

  "Again, I say, why a department store?"

  "Because Macy's goes all out with their Christmas windows. As you're currently witnessing, people line up for the chance to see them. The windows stretch all the way around the building."

  "We're going to be moving a whole step an hour all the way around the building? I think an ant just passed us. Yup, he's thumbing his nose at me."

  "Stop that. I promise this is romantic."

  "Why do you keep harping on that? I told you, we're friends. The romance stuff isn't really our thing."

  It made her oh so sad. "Trust me, if you're not going to tell Monica the driving reason behind this proposal, you need all the romance you can get to sell it to her. You can't risk going back to your dad and admitting you couldn't seal the deal, right?"

  "God, no." Kyle shuddered, contorting his face into an expression of mock horror.

  "You'll hold hands and lean into each other, listening to the carols." Caitlin snuggled in close to demonstrate. Close enough to breathe in the forest scent of his cologne. The scent tingled in her nose. It made all her girl parts perk up and take notice. Get real. It made her want to rip off his shirt and burrow her face into the crook of his neck. “Every year the windows tell a different fairy-tale story. This year, it’s Cinderella.”

  “Even I know that one, and I’ll admit it’s romantic.”

  “It gets better. You’ll see when we hit the very last window.”

  Kyle tugged at his hair. “I don’t know if I can stand the suspense.”

  She loved his goofiness. “Quit it, you’ll scare the children. Okay, in the last window, the prince gets down on one knee and proposes. You know, after finding out the glass slipper fits Cinderella. Once Monica sees the window, oohs and ahhs—”

  His right eyebrow shot skyward. “She’s not really an ooh and aah kind of girl. Think more the polite clapping at a polo match.”

  No way. Nobody could resist a Macy’s window. Caitlin barreled on, “—because you’d have to be the Grinch not to be thrilled by this window—you’ll do the same thing. Drop to one knee and propose.”

  “I don’t have an enchanted glass slipper, or for that matter, a kingdom to offer her.”

  Men always got hung up on the practical details. Why couldn’t he embrace the romance factor of the plan? Good thing she knew Kyle so well, and was prepared for his objection. “I’ve already done the research online. You can get a stunning crystal slipper, small enough to hold in your hand. Resting inside it, on a tiny pillow, you’ll have the ring.” Caitlin flashed a cocky smile, sure he’d be pleased by her thoroughness. “How perfect is that?”

  “Not bad. Not bad at all.” He looked at the first window. The edges were frosted to give the illusion of snow. Foot-high figurines rich with color and detail depicted the lavish gowns of the wicked stepmother and stepsisters berating a kneeling Cinderella. “I’m not sure I can convince her to stand in line for an hour, though. Especially with those skyscraper heels she always wears.”

  “You’re grasping at straws. Why are you rejecting all of my ideas?” She’d given him two fantastic suggestions. Either one would melt any woman’s heart. Could it be he was having second thoughts about the whole thing? Or merely normal cold feet?

  “I’ve only rejected one. I’ll keep this one in the possible pile. Are you saying your idea well is dry already?” he teased.

  “So insulting.

  “We’re running out of time, you know.”

  “The obvious, easy answer is to give her the ring wrapped as a Christmas present.” Unless she decided to schuss off to Gstaad for a skiing holiday. Crap. “She’ll be in town for Christmas, right?”

  “Yeah. We’re having a big formal dinner on Christmas Eve. Again, more of a networking thing than carols and present exchanges. Ever since Mom died, you know Dad prefers to wrap the holidays in business. The Selfords are invited, along with a dozen of Dad’s most promising contacts.”

  Whew. “Then you’ll always have that to fall back on—but I’ll bet I come up with something better.” Caitlin would keep throwing ideas at him until something stuck. Whether her new job interfered, or his marriage did, she realized this could be their last chance to spend significant time together. And she didn’t intend to miss a single opportunity to do just that.

  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 pr
ogressed 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 the 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."
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  "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?”