by Cathy Quinn
His hand was warm. And he held it far too long for her peace of mind, his gaze penetrating through all the clown layers and making the woman inside tremble. “Bye for now, Sylvie. See you soon.”
Chapter 7
A couple of days later, Nick was again standing in the ladder, making her hit the wrong chord. She nodded at him, and forced herself to finish the song, before closing the piano and walking to the edge of the platform. “Hi, there,” she said cheerfully, embarrassed at the way she was reacting to him and very grateful homo sapiens hadn’t evolved telepathy yet. She did not want him to read her mind right now.
“Hey. You haven’t had lunch yet, have you?”
Sylvie glanced around the store. Barbara and Ann were trying to be inconspicuous, half-hidden behind the doll pram display, but they were staring and whispering. No doubt what they’d spend their lunch hour gossiping about. “No,” she replied.
“Great. Join me? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Uh oh. It doesn’t involve polka dots, does it?”
He smiled. Oh, Lord. It really had been too long – she’d forgotten the effect that smile had on her, and she sucked in a breath and clenched her muscles.
“No polka dots,” he confirmed, and jumped down from the ladder. “Come one.”
She climbed down hurriedly, all too aware of him following her progress. “I’ll get my coat,” she said, hurrying to the staff room. He ambled after her, but got side-tracked by Mary, and was still there, discussing something, when Sylvie returned.
“I’ll steal your pianist for an hour, okay?” he said to Mary, who nodded with a smile, and gave Sylvie a look that had her blush deepen. She just hated that, but she couldn’t control it. Even though she had absolutely nothing to blush about.
Unfortunately they went straight across the street to the usual place, and as they sat down, Sylvie saw Barbara and Ann hurry out of the doors of R&R, heading straight towards them. Typical. She almost groaned aloud, but caught it just in time. Nick probably wouldn’t appreciate hearing about his staff’s speculations about the two of them.
Fortunately they were seated out of earshot, although they had a good view of them.
“How do you like the job?” Nick asked. “Any problems?”
“No, it’s fine. Going great.”
“Good.”
“How are the girls?”
“Good. Looking forward to Christmas. Talking about you a lot.”
“Really? I thought they’d forget about me in days.”
“Nope. None of us is having much luck forgetting about you.”
Oh boy. Was she stupid to read something into the way he said that? She looked down and tried to collect her thoughts. She also needed to remember that her every move, her every facial expression was being avidly recorded by the two gossipers across the room.
They chatted lazily about nothing at all for a few moments, then Nick got that determined look on his face and lowered his voice. “What I wanted to discuss with you...”
“Yes?”
“You see... there’s this Christmas party I need to go to. Friday. At the office. I was wondering if I could persuade you to join us.”
“Oh. Of course. You mean, to play the piano?”
Nick looked surprised. Then chagrined. “No.”
“A waitress, then?”
Nick shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. I just need company, and I thought of you.”
Sylvie stirred her coffee and tried to think. She had to be careful not to read the wrong thing into this. She might instantly think he was asking her on an actual date, and that was just because she seemed to have developed a crush on him. He was, however, her boss. If he was making an appointment for them together, it would most likely be work-related. “I see. Is this something that would regularly be a part of my job while I’m working for you. Escorting you to things like that?”
He seemed almost irked. And confused. It rather looked like he wasn’t quite sure about the answer to the question. “Well... no. Not exactly. This isn’t a job.”
“Then what is it?”
He tapped his fingers on the table, looking so nervous that it had a diminishing effect on her own nervousness. He rather looked like a schoolboy trying to work up the courage to ask a girl to the prom, and it was so sweet she couldn’t help but smile secretly, since his attention was on the tablewear anyway. “I was hoping you’d like to go,” he then said.
Okay. That sounded a bit clearer. “So, you mean, like a date?” she asked, making sure.
He stared at her for so long that she felt like sinking under the table into mortification, certain she’d misunderstood something terrible -- but then he relaxed, leaned back and smiled at her. He looked relieved, and his smile had altered subtly. It reached far into her nerve system and warmed her all over. Oh, boy. “Well, yes. I guess that’s exactly what I mean. A date.”
Oh boy. “I see.” Now what? Did she want to go on a date with Nick? Hell yes! Was it a good idea? Hell no! “So, it’s a Christmas... party, you said?”
“Yes.” He had recovered. The embarrassed schoolboy look was gone, and Mr. Confident was back. “It’s an office Christmas party. My offices. We do it every year.”
“I see. And you’re sure I’d be there as your date – not as the entertainment?”
His brows drew together. “What do you mean?’
“I just want to make absolutely sure that there are no polka dots involved”
He laughed at that. “I promise. No clown suit. Not even a Mrs. Santa suit – although I will have to dress up in a Santa suit for a while.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Afraid so. You can consider it your revenge for the clown thing. Not my favorite thing, but my staff expects it. It’s a tradition by now.”
“Jelly-belly and all?”
Nick nodded. “Yup. And all.”
She couldn’t resist this. “So let me get this straight – you’re asking me to go on a date with Santa?”
“ I’ll only be Santa for about an hour or so. After that you’d have to put up with me.”
Sylvie played with her sandwich. She’d lost her appetite, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about this thing. Why was he asking her? This was complicated. Too complicated. She liked this man. Under any ordinary circumstances she’d love to go out with him.
But he was her boss. And the father of two little girls, one of whom had developed a weird attachment to her. “But... are you sure you want to show up at an office party with an employee? Isn’t that against some kind of office rules?”
His eyes twinkled. “You’re just a temp. I’ll take my loopholes where I can find them.”
“I see. So I won’t get in trouble for fraternizing with the boss?”
“I don’t know about that,” he said seriously, and she frowned at his tone, wondering if the invitation had been withdrawn. “I guess we’ll just have to fraternize at our own risk,” he added, and she bit into a tomato slice to buy some time.
Was he flirting with her? She was pretty sure, but it had been so long, she wasn’t even sure what flirting looked like anymore, and she was hopelessly lost here, wondering if he was asking her out for real, or if she was just a convenient stand-in for a real date.
Nick was waiting for an answer, his eyes steady on her, but she sensed an increasing tension in him as she didn’t reply.
“If you feel uncomfortable about it, just say no,” he said. “It’s just an invitation. It won’t have any effect on our agreement or on your job. Damn, I suppose this is why it’s not a good idea to fraternize with the boss, huh?”
Someone passed them with a quick hello, and Sylvie noticed one of her colleague from the store. He settled in a corner – fortunately out of earshot – where a couple of other co-workers were already seated.
They were staring. The two women with curiosity, and more than a little envy. She didn’t blame them. The man was gorgeous, damn him. And he’s asked her out on a dat
e. But why? Because he was attracted to her? Or because he wanted to keep her close, making sure she wouldn’t back out on his daughter? Or just because he needed someone to accompany him and she was handy?
She shook her head to clear it of the cobwebs.
“Sylvie?”
What would Grandma Alex do?
The answer to that question wasn’t long or complicated, was it? Sylvie allowed a smile to bloom on her face as she shook her head again. “No. That’s a yes. I’d love to join you.”
Of course. Grandma Alex would do it in a heartbeat. And why not? What was the worst that would happen? It wasn’t as if she’d do something stupid like fall in love with the guy at their first – and probably only – date. It wasn’t as if she’d ever be stupid enough to allow herself to seriously fall for a guy with kids. She wasn’t the mom type – let alone the step-mom type.
He nodded. “Excellent. I’ll pick you up around seven, okay?”
“How formal is this?” she thought to ask, rather anxiously. Just the foyer in his office building was terribly classy. Would her wardrobe stand up to the challenge?
“Don’t worry about it. It’s casual. Most people won’t change after work, so whatever you’d wear at the office is fine.”
“That’s a relief. I’m short on fairytale gowns,” she joked. She looked at her watch. “I should get getting back. And don’t you have a meeting to run to?”
“Yeah. I have a date with my daughters. We’re going sledding.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It is.”
“Nice if you take time off to spend with them.”
His eyes flashed. “My most important job is being a dad. The girls are more important than Robots and Ragdolls, but fortunately they mix well. I usually work from home during the afternoon. They help.”
“Help?”
“I can’t say their help is always very helpful, but they try,” he said, grinning lopsidedly. “They do a wonderful job when it comes to testing out our products.”
“Let me guess: Emily tests the boy toys and Lana tests the girl toys.”
“Yeah, pretty much. Of course, if it were up to Emily, the entire world would be pink, and I don’t think the average boy would want a pink animated dinosaur.”
Sylvie laughed. “I see. You need a boy.”
“I borrow some from the neighborhood. Emily tends to attract little troublemakers. I have a workshop in the basement. They love it. I have to lock the door to keep them out of there when I’m not working.”
“An toy inventor’s workshop,” she mused, finishing off her coffee. “Must be a paradise for kids. Almost like Santa’s workshop.”
“One or two have asked me where I keep my elves,” Nick said, grinning as he called for the bill.
Nick walked her back to the entrance of the store, then said goodbye. Sylvie wasn’t sure how she was feeling about their Friday appointment. Excited, yes. Apprehensive, definitely. Infatuated like hell, unfortunately, yes... He just kept becoming more intriguing. More attractive.
She slipped inside the store, then stood there hidden on the other side of the decorated window, watching Nick as he moved across the street towards his office building, then disappeared into the parking cellar.
She even loved the way he moved. It reminded her of her cat. Not soft and cuddly, of course, but lean and self-assured, the stride confident, but without the swagger too many successful men displayed. He was ... gorgeous. She just couldn’t get away from that word.
She smiled at one of her new co-workers, openly staring at her, and returned to the piano. There would no doubt be gossip in the staff room now. Several people had seen them at the store and at the restaurant. Did she care? No. She wouldn’t be here long enough for it to have any kind of impact.
Someone had noticed she was back. The music on the speakers faded out, and she moved into a random Christmas song.
She had a date with Nick.
She frowned as doubts returned, replaying the same questions as before.
Why had he asked her? Did this really qualify as a date? As in, he was interested, he wanted to spend time with her?
Or just a part of her job description?
Or a way to reel her in so she wouldn’t back out on his daughter.
And if this was a real date, and he was interested, and she was interested, then what the hell was she doing, saying yes? It was not a smart move. He was a father. He had two children to care for, and both of them terrified her, each in their own way. She just wasn’t cut out to be around children.
Either way, accepting his offer had been a stupid move. She blamed the butterflies. And Grandma Alex.
Grandma Alex, Sylvie thought dimly as one song came to an end, and she repeated the last few bars as she tried to think of a Christmas song she hadn’t played already. Her hands skipped across the keyboard as she absently slipped into the first few bars of a song about someone kissing Santa Claus.
Grandma Alex, I’m going to a Christmas party with my boss dressed up as Santa, and it’s all your fault!
Nick picked up the girls and drove home. He fed his daughters lunch, then all three of them moved into his workshop for an afternoon of work. The girls settled at “their” table, bickering over crayons. It was a tradition. If he didn’t have anything new to show them, they’d settle down at the table and produce a drawing or a painting – often their very own diagram of a new toy they wanted him to make. Their suggestions ranged from the absurd to the brilliant.
They still liked to hang around in there, and he loved having them around. It was the best thing about working from home – and it was an asset to the company too, as the girls had co-invented more than one of his toys.
“Did you see Iffy today? Is she ever coming for a visit again?” Emily asked. Behind her, Lana held the cat – which normally wasn’t allowed inside the workshop -- and stared at him too, letting Emily ask the question which was so important to her. He’d faced this question practically every day since Lana’s birthday.
“What is Fluffy doing in here?” he asked.
Lana chewed her lip and tightened her grasp on the long-suffering cat. “She gets lonely on her own.”
“Okay. Fine.” HE tended to give in easy when Lana stood up for herself. She did that so rarely. He’d probably have to watch it, or she’d become one spoiled little girl. “Okay. The cat can stay. This time only.”
“Did you meet Iffy, daddy?” Lana asked, eyes wide open, and his heart melted.
“Yeah. I met her. She works at R&R. You know that. She plays the piano in the store, remember?”
A smile bloomed on Lana’s face. “Can we go see her sometime?”
“Maybe. Yes. Definitely. We can visit the store, and she’ll be playing the piano.”
“Maybe she can teach me.”
Oh... boy.
Nick smiled weakly at his daughter and sank down at his desk. He turned on his computer and rubbed his forehead. This definitely called for a headache and he didn’t think any brilliant ideas would be flowing forward today.
Things were getting complicated. What in the world had he been thinking, asking Sylvie out?
It was such a bad idea to get involved with a woman his daughter had formed such an attachment too. He hadn’t been thinking at all, that was the problem. It had just happened. He hadn’t thought it through. He’d needed someone to accompany him to that party – and it wasn’t until she asked him straight out if this would be a job or a date that he’d realized what he was doing. And now he’d promised his daughter he’d take her to see the woman he was – sort of – dating.
He groaned, and wondered if there was any chance Lana would trade that visit with Sylvie out for a pet rat or unlimited television.
He glanced at his daughter, a secret smile on her face as she leaned over the table, carefully drawing a – yes – colorful clown.
No. Probably not.
Chapter 8
“And then he asked me to a party Friday,” Sylvie co
nfessed to her cousins. They’d shown up at her door with plans for a hellish trip to karaoke bar next Friday. She’d told them she was busy, and wouldn’t be able to make it that day. Naturally, they’d demanded to know why she was busy, suspicious that she was just weaseling out of their agreement.
She could have lied. She could have made up a date.
But instead she’d told them the truth -- even knowing that it meant she wouldn’t get a moment’s peace for days. She had to tell someone, or she’d explode.
Of course, her cat would have been a better choice, since he didn’t gossip, didn’t preach and almost never said I-told-you-so.
Her cousin’s reactions, on the other hand, were rather predictable, but sometimes predictable was just what she needed.
Susie wolf-whistled, clapping her hands together. “Way to go, girl!”
Helen scowled. “Your new boss? He asked you out on a date?” She shook her head. “That’s not quite appropriate, isn’t it? It’s not at all appropriate. He should know better than that.”
“I’m just a temp!” Sylvie objected, reverting to Nick’s own excuse. “I’ll only be there a month at most. So that’s hardly a problem. Plus, he just needs a date for this event. It’s not a real date. Besides, it happens all the time.”
Helen rolled her eyes. “There’s real consistency here, Sylvie. Yes, it happens all the time. Generally ends in tears – and guess whose tears!”
Susie poked Helen with her elbow. “Oh, shut up! Just because your company has a strict no-office-relationship policy and you’re seething because you can’t jump Mark, that doesn’t mean the rest of us shouldn’t find our mates in the workplace.”
