Ask Her at Christmas

by Christi Barth

  Kyle didn’t blame her. No matter how he tried to come up with an explanation for what happened that night, his mind dumped him back at the same place every time. He was a first class prick. He had no right to give in to the feelings he’d spent years tamping down. Caitlin didn’t deserve to be toyed with like that.

  Sure, for those few minutes when he kissed her and time stopped, it had been heaven. If heaven came with enough firecrackers to light up the sky forever. He’d been a selfish bastard to give in to his lust. But something about the combination of the yearning in her eyes and his raw emotional state had melted the shields he maintained against her. All he’d seen was a beautiful woman who understood him. Who wanted to be with him. She’d been irresistible.

  But now everything was messed up. Without his daily dose of Caitlin, he’d been in a foul mood. After two days of this, his entire team had opted to work from home today. They hadn’t even bothered to fake a cough, or sniffle a couple of times. Kyle knew he’d been uncharacteristically sharp. Critical. A fucking jerk to a team of really great guys. One more thing he’d have to deal with before Christmas.

  His phone beeped, signaling he’d arrived at his destination. Wiping a layer of snowflakes from his lashes, he looked up. And immediately wanted to bang his head against the art-deco stone building in front of him. The elegant letters three stories above the door spelled out Tiffany & Co. Monica had an “emergency” at the most iconic jewelry store in town? About as likely as him riding shotgun with Santa. On the other hand, maybe she’d gotten sick while shopping. Monica wasn’t the type to take an ambulance unless spurting blood or unconscious. Hoping, oddly, for the worst, he pushed through into the store.

  Of course, carols filled the air. Pine garlands draped every display case. Just like outside, the crowds were nonexistent, with only two ladies shopping to his right. But he didn’t see Monica anywhere. Great. He’d have to search all four floors of the immense store. Kyle shook his head to get rid of the snow and unzipped his coat.

  “Mr. Lockhart?” An associate in a somber suit appeared at his elbow.

  “Yes.” Guess on a day as slow as this, he’d been easy to spot.

  “Ms. Selford is waiting for you upstairs. In the third-floor private viewing room.”

  Kyle took off for the stairs at a brisk lope. If she wasn’t trolling the cases, Monica must be sick. She must be tucked away, lying down. He called for a taxi, knowing it would take forever to show up. But how else would he get her to the doctor?

  He burst into the dark, hushed room. She sat at a small desk, hunched over and head down. “Monica, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m having trouble seeing...” Her voice trailed off.

  God, it was serious. Kyle practically leapt across the room to kneel beside her. “Are you dizzy? Headache?”

  She pushed the shimmering curtain of blond hair aside to look at him. “Of course not.” Monica waggled the jeweler’s loupe in her hand before setting it on the desk. “I’m having trouble seeing any flaws in this diamond. The clarity is impeccable. It is absolutely stunning.”

  Kyle stared at her while he pulled off his gloves. Perfect makeup. Bright red lips that matched her satin blouse. Ruby necklace nestled in her more-than-a-handful cleavage. She looked ready to pose for a magazine ad. Not at all mussed or frantic as though in the middle of a crisis. He ground the heels of his palms against his eyes, then stood.

  “What’s your emergency?”

  “Hello to you, too.” Arms outstretched, she beckoned for him to lean down. He gave her a quick embrace, and a dutiful peck on the cheek. “My, but you’re in a mood. Don’t you know it’s Christmas? Be of good cheer, and all that.”

  Walking five blocks through snow drifts had kind of killed his festive spirit. That, and missing the most important appointment of his entire month to answer her plea for help. “Monica, you told me to rush over here because you had an emergency. What is it?”

  She pursed her lips into a pseudo-pout. “Goodness, you’re in need of some champagne. Let me call for Henry. He’s helping me today, and he’ll set you right up.”

  The absolutely last thing Kyle wanted was champagne. It reminded him of Caitlin. It reminded him that her graduation ceremony started in ten minutes and he’d have to miss it for Monica’s stupid nonemergency. He gritted his back teeth together. “I’m going to give you one more chance to answer, and then I’m leaving. Why did you insist I come here? And why now?”

  She shoved away the black velvet tray covered with loose diamonds. “Fine. I know about the proposal.”

  No way. Caitlin never would’ve spilled his secret. “What proposal?”

  Monica rolled her eyes. “Don’t try to play coy. Men can’t pull that off. I know you’re going to propose to me. I brought you here so I could point out my ring of choice. I wanted to make it easy for you, darling.” She flashed him a smile as brilliant as the icy rocks in front of her.

  Kyle paced to the door. Then back to the desk, then another full circuit while he tried to figure out where to begin. He felt a little like a live grenade—pin popped, ready to explode at the slightest touch. Pushed to his limit, he decided to make her sweat a little. “First of all, this proposal’s still hypothetical right now. I haven’t decided whether or not to ask you.”

  “Please, your father told me everything. It’ll cement the merger, and it’ll quiet the rumor storm that’s got my stockholders in a snit. This marriage will be a great thing for both of our companies. I’m sorry to spoil your surprise, but meeting today is efficient. I won’t have to swing back to Chicago for a while just to exchange whatever invariably wrong ring you’d choose.” A smile softened her harsh words. “You’re a brilliant man, Kyle, but you’re still a man. Picking out the right diamond is something only a woman can do.”

  Which is exactly why Caitlin had offered to help him. Caitlin, currently robed and about to be hooded in a ceremony he was missing. “Monica, did you ever hear the story about the boy who cried wolf? You can’t claim an emergency unless, oh, I don’t know, you’re bleeding out, being mugged, or getting arrested.”

  “There’s a horrible storm outside. Our pilot tells me the airport will close in two hours, and I have a dinner meeting in Minneapolis tonight. This is the only time I’ve got. Ergo, an emergency.”

  He might as well be talking to a chalkboard. “Look, I’m not at your beck and call. There’s an entire department back at LTS who depends on me to lead them, not run out on shopping expeditions.” Kyle glanced at his watch again. Stupid, because he knew what it said. Unless Tiffany’s sold sterling-silver time machines, he’d miss all of Caitlin’s ceremony.

  “Plus, I’m missing a very, very important engagement right now. My best friend, who drove sixteen hours straight to come to my graduation, is in her cap and gown right now.” Dropping onto a blue loveseat, Kyle tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. Disappointment ripped through him. “And I’m not there to see it.” Would she forgive him? Of course she would. But he didn’t know if he could forgive himself for missing that once-in-a-lifetime moment.

  “Get used to it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Monica stalked across the room, her black, wide-legged pants swishing with every step. She crossed her arms and glared at him. “We’re getting married. The only names on the invitation will read Monica and Kyle. There’s no room for your school friend in our marriage.”

  He’d damn well draw a line in the sand right now. “Don’t. Just don’t say a word about Caitlin.”

  She changed tactics, and sat next to him, curling her hands around his arm. “Look, this might be starting out as a glorified business deal, but I truly enjoy your company. We suit each other. Our families suit each other. I’d like to take a shot at having a real relationship with you.”

  “Of course. I agree,” he stammered. He felt the same way, or thought he did. He�
�d said as much to Caitlin at the ice rink. But cozied up next Monica, her breasts pushing against his ribs, it became as real as a heart attack. And just as life changing. Could he do it? Even for this father, could he tie himself to this woman? She loved to travel, and loved Mexican food as much as he did. He could picture them on vacations together, poolside, sipping margaritas. She’d look fantastic spilling out of a bikini, and wouldn’t mind his being glued to a movie on his iPad, since she’d probably bring work along.

  That was the easy part. What he couldn’t picture was any sort of everyday life with her. Monica would probably move her base here to Chicago. Would they have dinner together, or would she be out with prospective clients every night? Would she ever come watch him in a pickup hockey game? Or learn how to talk him out of the very dark place he always spiraled into after an argument with his father? Try as he might, he just couldn’t see it.

  “Caitlin is a distraction,” Monica said. “When you’re not with her, you’re talking about her, or texting her, or figuring out what to do with her next. She is a black hole sucking away all of your energy. Our marriage won’t stand a chance unless you cut her out of your life. It only works with two of us, Kyle, not three.” Her cool fingers lightly stroked his jaw. “She’ll be fine. I happen to know she’s been offered the job at Selford Chambers. Caitlin will soon be too busy for you. Your special connection would fray after just a few weeks. Why go through that pain? Make it a clean break. Then you and I can focus with clear heads on building a new life, together.” One hand dropped lower, inside his coat to caress his chest.

  It made sense. A fresh start. Maybe easier than he thought, with Caitlin already not talking to him. Kyle didn’t take marriage lightly. Sure, he had a contingency plan. If things weren’t going well after his dad died, they’d get an amicable divorce. But ideally, he and Monica would commit to each other, learn to love each other and stay married. He believed in the sanctity of the vows, the promise to be there for each other, whatever it took. If she said yes to his proposal, didn’t he owe that to her? Give it his best shot?

  * * *

  Caitlin had dressed for the near-blizzard conditions in a wool sweater, turtleneck and long underwear. Great for outdoors, but layered beneath the wool-and-velvet graduation robe she dripped with sweat. Funny, since she’d been icy cold since the LTS Christmas party. No matter how many blankets she piled on, she just couldn’t get warm. Even today, with perspiration beading in the hollow between her breasts, on the inside she still felt a bone-deep chill.

  “I’m so happy for you!” her friend Beth squealed, jumping up and down until her long braids bounced. Then she threw her arms around Caitlin in a quick hug.

  “We’re both graduating, Beth. Why the special happiness for me?” Caitlin straightened Beth’s velvet beret.

  “I heard about the jobs. I can’t believe you got offers from both the Art Institute and the Selford Chambers. No wonder you’re graduating at the top of our class. You are a rock star.”

  Thanks to Monica’s interference, she couldn’t tell if the offer from the Selford was completely genuine. Generous, yes, and Caitlin knew she could handle it. But it felt tainted, like laundered money. The call from the Art Institute this morning had been a salve to her ego. They wanted her based solely on her resume and interview. The way it should be.

  Caitlin peeked through the heavy yellow stage curtains into Fullerton Hall. Despite the weather, the steep rows of seats were almost filled. Hazy light filtered through the magnificent gold-and-amber-stained glass dome. Yet no matter how many times her eyes scanned the crowd, she couldn’t see Kyle’s distinctive dark shock of hair.

  Ever since he’d brushed off their kiss as mere mistletoe madness, things had been weird. Off balance. She’d waited for his daily call, but it never came. And she had to give him space to figure out his new situation, if he needed it. Kyle was the one about to get married. Something he’d apparently forgotten for a few blissful moments at the Christmas party. After one look from his father, though, he’d gotten back on track. No matter how much it hurt, this was his new reality. In order to keep their friendship alive, Caitlin had to accept it.

  So in between crying and wallowing, she’d had another great idea for a proposal, involving the Joffrey Ballet’s Nutcracker at the Auditorium Theatre. What if the prince presented the ring to Monica during the curtain call? The ultimate mix of romance and Christmas. But Caitlin couldn’t clue Kyle in to her brainstorm unless he picked up the phone.

  Beth pushed her aside. “Don’t hog the gap. I want to spot my family, too. Gotta know where to wave when I cross the stage. Did you find your parents?”

  Taking up almost an entire row, along with Lisa, Raquel and Brooke. While she didn’t want her friends to be bored to tears with the ceremony, they’d insisted on coming. Said it was an inarguable friendship rule. So why wasn’t Kyle here? “Yep. I think they got here an hour ago to pick out prime seats. My dad bought a new video camera just for the occasion.” A tiny coil of warmth bloomed in her heart. Her family had always been her biggest support. Well, along with Kyle. She’d better shake off her gloom and project nothing but happiness for that video camera. After all, she didn’t want her dark pit of despair memorialized for all time.

  “I haven’t been as lucky as you with the job offers.” Beth let the curtains slide shut. “No rejections yet, but nothing solid, either. I really want that curator position in Santa Fe. Except I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave Chicago. A girl can’t live on chile peppers alone, you know. Do you think they know how to make decent pizza in New Mexico?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe you’ll just have to teach them.”

  Beth stroked the white satin of her ceremonial hood. “If you take the job at the Art Institute, would you put in a good word for me? I mean, if New Mexico is still deciding, a reference from an associate curator at the Art Institute would probably seal the deal.”

  “Sure,” she said absentmindedly. Beth’s almond-shaped eyes drooped at her lackluster response. “I mean, of course. You know how to put together one heck of an exhibit. They’d be lucky to have you. But I don’t know which job I’ll take.”

  “Are you kidding? You didn’t already have a favorite picked out?”

  “No.” Which was true. The glamorous life of travel with the Selford or the prestige of belonging to one of the world’s most renowned museums? On paper, both jobs were great. Would she let Monica run her out of town? Pride said no. On the other hand, pride didn’t come with a paycheck. If she stayed and Monica made good on her threat to blackball her, Caitlin’s career would be over before it even began. She didn’t have the resources or the contacts to put up a fight. Still, she hadn’t completely resigned herself to rolling over.

  “Is Kyle here yet? I bet he brought you a great present. At least a bouquet, but maybe something bigger. I swear, that smokin’ hot computer geek of yours is the best BFF a girl could ask for. Can you see if he’s got a bouquet on his lap?” Beth twitched the curtains open a little bit wider.

  Caitlin took another peek, but nothing had changed. Wishing that he’d appear in the back row, bent over his iPad so that a lock of dark hair drifted onto his forehead, didn’t make it happen. Apparently rubbing a graduation robe had none of the magical properties of an enchanted lamp. “Kyle’s not here.”

  “That’s weird. Didn’t you remind him? I know it’s a workday and all, but Kyle wouldn’t miss your graduation ceremony.”

  A week ago, Caitlin would’ve believed that to be true. If it was still just up to Kyle, no matter unsettled they might be since the kiss, she knew without a doubt he’d be there. No, his absence on this day of all days had to be Monica’s doing. By keeping him away, she was sending a message to Caitlin. A crystal clear message that now Kyle belonged to her.

  “Kyle’s not coming. He’s, ah, getting ready to propose to his girlfriend.”

  “Aw, that’s lo
usy, Caitlin. Still, I bet he definitely comes through with an awesome present to make up for it.”

  God, it rankled her to cave to Monica’s heavy-handed threats. But there was no way in hell she could stay in Chicago, cut off from Kyle. In that moment, Caitlin made up her mind. “Whatever it is, it better be small enough to fit in a carry-on. I’m taking the job with the Selford Chambers.”

  Chapter Seven

  Kyle paced the twentieth floor hallway of LTS Industries. Sharp sunlight poured in through the open steel-and-glass framework. He squinted, wishing the blizzard had stuck around another few days. Then the overcast sky would match his black mood. His dress shoes clicked against the concrete floor. Like most IT professionals, his daily uniform consisted of jeans, tees and sneakers, unless he had a client meeting scheduled. But for today’s board meeting, he’d pulled out the power suit. Caitlin had picked it out for him, saying the navy pinstripes deepened his eyes. As if anyone in the security business gave a shit about his eye color. Except for when they used him to test their retina scanners.

  Since joining the company straight after grad school, he’d been to only one board meeting. His dad introduced him around, and then Kyle spent the next six hours trying not to let his eyes cross with boredom. He usually scheduled quarterly upgrades or training on board dates; whatever gave him a good enough excuse to skip the damn thing.

  Another set of heels tapped up behind him. “Mr. Lockhart, how may I help you?” His father’s assistant held a tray of pastries and looked harried. Dad had a habit of breaking in, and then flat out breaking the spirit of his assistants in a year or less. This one—Kyle didn’t bother to memorize their names anymore—had been here about eight months, and showed signs of wear around the edges. She smiled a little too brightly, jumped a little too fast when Dad barked at her. Her days were numbered.