The 6'1 Grinch

by Tiffany White

  She’d been too keyed up. She’d been with a man who’d known what he wanted and hadn’t been shy about taking it and giving back. At that moment she’d bet her cheeks were as red as the glitter on her wreath earrings—or “ear bobs,” as Elena called them. Love-making had never been so exciting as with Noel. He’d seduced her without touching her by selecting what he wanted her to wear and laying it out for her on the bed as if she were some harem girl being prepared for a pasha.

  It excited her to know he’d been going through her things while she’d been naked in the shower. To wonder if he’d watched her secretly while she’d showered.

  From any other man that would have been an unforgivable liberty, but Noel had done it in such a romantic way that she’d been pleased rather than angered.

  A glance at the clock beside her told her she was going to have to get up no matter how delicious the lingering. But she was enjoying reliving each caress, the murmured words in a foreign language that had lent a fillip to the lovemaking, a fillip of mystery. What had he said to her? What had he said in the words that had been so full of emotion and desire?

  Had he said “I love you”?

  Could he have?

  Her growling stomach rudely interrupted her girlish musings. They hadn’t gotten to the restaurant last night, and she’d forgotten to eat. Her stomach was putting up a fuss. She stretched and sat up, and the comforter fell down to her waist, revealing her nudity.

  She laughed. Noel couldn’t have said anything that sounded like a commitment, wouldn’t have—he hadn’t even seen her breasts. She couldn’t imagine. They would not have escaped the notice of any other man she’d ever dated.

  That made Noel special indeed. She slipped from the bed and searched out a long white shirt, closing it with the tie Noel had forgotten.

  Padding barefoot to the kitchen, she checked her answering machine to see if he’d called.

  A little moue of disappointment caused her lips to pucker downward.

  Hunger pangs ruled and she searched the cabinet for something to eat. Since she felt celebratory, she fixed her favorite breakfast—Belgian waffles and ice cream. The combination of hot buttery waffles and cold smooth ice cream quieted her growling stomach.

  “Come on, call,” she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin as she stared at the telephone that didn’t ring. That was one of the things she hated about being a woman in a society that let men make all the moves—all the choices. Waiting.

  The doorbell rang and her heart jumped.

  Noel!

  This was even better than a phone call.

  She hoped he’d come to tell her he had changed his mind about going away for Christmas, so she could invite him to Sarah’s later.

  When she looked out the window, however, she saw she’d leaped to the wrong conclusion. There was a deliveryman coming up the walk with a package and a clipboard.

  She grabbed one of the extra-festive packages of homemade Christmas cookies for a tip and opened the door, wondering who’d sent her, a present.

  After signing the clipboard, she exchanged her cookies and “Merry Christmas” for the package the deliveryman had brought. Before he had made it back to his truck, she had the package open. Maybe patience wasn’t her strong suit at this time of year any more than it was Elena’s.

  It was the Barbie in the pink dress, just as Noel had promised. He’d saved the day. Elena would have been really disappointed not to get her number-one request.

  When Hollie went to get wrapping paper to wrap the gift, the phone rang.

  Finally.

  She went to answer it.

  “Auntie Hollie, Auntie Hollie, Santa’s coming tonight!”

  It wasn’t Noel, but it was the next best thing—the little girl who always made her smile. “Are you sure it’s tonight?” she teased. “Maybe you counted wrong.”

  “Nope. Mommy says it’s Christmas Eve tonight. And I have to go to bed early after we put out the milk and cookies for Santa. Rick’s coming over tonight, too.”

  “I like Rick,” Hollie said, hoping Elena did, also.

  “He’s gots a spotted puppy at the firehouse named Shana. And Mommy says he’s the one who cooks for the fire guys.”

  “Shana cooks for the firemen?”

  “No, Auntie Hollie, a dog can’t cook. Rick cooks firehouse chili and stuff. He said he’d make some for me.”

  “Well, I’ll see you tonight, too, okay?”

  “Uh-huh, and Mommy wants to talk to you.”

  Sarah came on the phone with the question Hollie wished she could answer.

  “Is Noel coming with you tonight?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What kind of RSVP is that? You did ask him, didn’t you?”

  “Uh…well, there wasn’t a good time, and he had to leave early.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Hollie relayed what had happened with the curling iron and hung up on her best friend when she wouldn’t stop laughing.

  Having had enough of waiting, Hollie decided to act. With every house sale, she made up a special gift basket tailored to her client, as a thank-you. She’d make one up for Noel and deliver it to his hotel room, giving her an opportunity to invite him to Sarah’s. At the very least it would let her check on Noel to make sure he was okay.

  Since he was leaving at two, she had to hurry. Most of the fixings for the basket were on hand. She had the iridescent paper and ribbon for a bow to wrap around the basket. All she had to do was gather up the gift items. She quickly washed and dressed and headed out.

  A good bottle of wine, crackers and cheese were all gleaned at the same market. The drugstore yielded a box of neon adhesive bandages she couldn’t resist adding.

  By noon she had the basket assembled and was on her way to Noel’s hotel.

  SHE WAS DETERMINED to get in his room.

  She waited until the girl who was at the desk took a break and a man replaced her. The girl would have seen right through her lie, but the man, she knew from experience, would be susceptible to her flirting.

  “Excuse me, I have a surprise for my boyfriend and he isn’t answering my knock on his door. Do you think he’s still in his room and has maybe fallen asleep?” She gave him her best smile, meant to make him feel like a stud muffin.

  “Why don’t I see if he’s still registered?” the desk clerk asked, helpful as could be.

  “Still registered,” he reported. “But he’s got a seat on the airport shuttle.”

  She checked her watch.

  “I don’t want to miss seeing him and I’ve got his Christmas present. Do you think I could just borrow the extra key long enough to deliver it?”

  “I’m not supposed to—”

  She didn’t let him get his refusal out. She slid her hand over his, her eyes pleading. “But it’s Christmas … and I’ll only be a minute. Promise.”

  He gave in to her, no match for her wiles. “But hurry up,” he warned, “before anyone notices the key is gone.” Clearly he meant the woman who worked the front desk with him.

  “Back in a wink,” she said, taking the key and tossing him a wink.

  SHE WAS NERVOUS as she stood outside the door of Noel’s room with the gift basket.

  Did she look dumb?

  Worse, desperate?

  Maybe she should just go.

  Forget about it.

  Forget about Noel.

  No, she’d come this far. She wasn’t a quitter when she wanted something. It was what made her such a good real estate agent. She saw things through to the end, no matter how difficult they were.

  Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

  “Noel, I—”

  The woman who’d opened the door to Noel’s room clearly wasn’t Noel, but clearly was expecting him. From the look of shock on her face, she was just as surprised to see Hollie as Hollie was to see her.

  “Who are you?” she demanded to know. “Is
that a parting gift from the hotel?”

  Hollie looked down at the gift basket in her grip. “No, I, ah—who are you?” she blurted out, staring at the exquisite black lace lingerie peeking out from the cotton terry robe with the hotel’s insignia on its breast pocket. “Where’s Noel?”

  “Who wants to know?” the woman demanded in a very territorial tone.

  “I’m Hollie. Hollie Winslow. I—I sold Noel his house,” she found herself stammering.

  “Oh, that explains the basket. You’re Noel’s real estate agent. That means he found a house for us!”

  “‘Us’?”

  “I’m Marcy Walker, Noel’s fiancée,” the dark-haired woman explained, wriggling her huge square-cut diamond solitaire engagement ring in Hollie’s face. “My flight just got in from Atlanta. Noel must have stepped out for a minute, but the maid let me in his room. I’ll take that for him, if you like.”

  “You’re going to the islands with Noel, for Christmas?”

  “Yes. He can’t wait to get away every December.”

  Of course. They were a perfect match.

  She’d seen that when she’d opened the door.

  She felt like a fool.

  “Well, have a good trip,” Hollie said, handing over the basket, suddenly wanting not to see or be seen by Noel. She couldn’t get out of the hotel fast enough.

  She wasn’t going to cry.

  She wasn’t.

  “All right, damn it, I am,” she sobbed when she climbed inside her car.

  How had this happened to her again?

  Noel Hawksley couldn’t disappoint her because she’d known he was going to disappoint her from the start. He hadn’t hidden the fact that he already had one foot on a plane out of town. He hadn’t hidden the fact that he hated her favorite holiday. He’d told her so up front and often.

  She had a big fat commission check, a check that would buy her a new car.

  She should be happy.

  Noel Hawksley had done what she thought was impossible. He’d ruined Christmas for her.

  And then through her tears she smiled.

  She’d ruined Christmas for him, as well. She’d accidentally branded him with her curling iron last night.

  He might be spending the holidays with his fiancée, but Hollie knew she herself wouldn’t be far from Noel’s thoughts the whole while. After the painful accident with her curling iron, he wouldn’t be enjoying himself any more than she would be. And neither would Marcy, no matter her fancy lingerie.

  Hollie took some comfort in that.

  “AUNTIE HOLLIE, I thought you’d never get here,” Elena said when she opened the door that evening. “Are those presents all for me?”

  “Have you been a good little girl?” Hollie asked, taking off her coat and hanging it up.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then put the presents under the tree, and no peeking who they’re for. And no shaking, either,” she said over her shoulder as she went to find Sarah.

  “Not so much red pepper,” Sarah instructed Rick, who was in the kitchen cooking.

  “That doesn’t smell like a Christmas ham to me,” Hollie said.

  “Elena insisted on Rick making his firehouse chili,” Sarah explained. “Christmas Eve is going to be a little unconventional.”

  “What else would I expect at your house?” Hollie said, and asked for an apron to help with the preparations.

  “No, you’re going to help me with the tree. Rick claims to have everything under control in here.” Sarah steered Hollie to the boxes of lights and tree trimmings set out next to the bare tree. It was Sarah’s custom to decorate her Christmas tree Christmas Eve—mainly because Midnight kept stealing the ornaments from the lower branches she could reach. And eating the tinsel. At the moment the dog was lying beneath the tree amid the presents, looking innocent.

  When they were out of Rick’s earshot and while Elena was peppering Rick with questions in the kitchen, Sarah whispered, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Hollie picked up a string of lights. “Have you tried these to make sure they’re working?”

  “Come on, Hollie, your eyes are puffy. You’ve been crying.”

  “I watched Miracle on 34th Street, okay?”

  “If you say so. But what about Noel—is he coming tonight?”

  Hollie shook her head and plugged in the string of lights to make sure they worked. “He’s going away as planned.”

  “I’m sorry.” Sarah touched Hollie’s arm.

  “It’s okay. He was just a client. I sold him a house and …and …” Hollie started to sniffle.

  “What is it?”

  “He’s engaged, Sarah.” Hollie wiped her eyes and sniffed up her tears, gaining control of her emotions. She didn’t want to ruin anyone’s Christmas by being sad. Forcing a note of cheerfulness into her voice, she said, “And she’s beautiful.”

  “What do you mean? How do you know?” Sarah took the lights Hollie handed her around the tree, made a pass and handed the lights back to Hollie as they circled them around the tree.

  “I saw her. She was in Noel’s hotel room when I delivered the thank-you basket I made him for purchasing a house from me.” Hollie picked up another strand of lights and checked them at the outlet.

  “Maybe she was lying.”

  Hollie shook her head. “She showed me her engagement ring. It was huge.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  The doorbell ringing prevented her from saying anything. She went to answer it, but Elena raced ahead before Sarah could get there. “I’ll get it,” she yelled.

  Hollie dropped the lights she was holding when she heard Elena squeal with delight, “Noel!”

  What was he doing here? How did he have the nerve to show up to face her? He must know she’d discovered his little secret.

  She didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want him to see her. She rubbed her eyes.

  Sarah came to fetch her.

  “He wants to see you, Hollie,” she said, knowing Hollie would have heard Elena.

  “Tell him no.”

  Elena came running in with a small, gaily wrapped box. “Noel brought me a present!”

  “Put it under the tree, honey,” Sarah instructed, her eyes pleading with Hollie. “At least talk to him,” she said.

  Not wanting to make a scene and ruin the evening, Hollie agreed and went to the door, where Noel was waiting to see her.

  “Can I come in?” he asked.

  “No. I’ll come out.” She reached for her coat and slipped into it, going outside to join him.

  “Hollie, you’ve got to let me explain.”

  She didn’t answer him at first, biting her lower lip to keep from blurting out her hurt. Finally she said, “I don’t think you can give me a satisfactory explanation, Noel. Anyway, it’s your fiancée you owe the apology to, not me. She’s the one with the claim on you, with your ring on her finger. I saw the ring, Noel. You aren’t really going to stand there and tell me it’s not your engagement ring she had on, are you?”

  “It’s my ring,” he agreed. “But—”

  “Goodbye, Noel.” She turned to go back inside, but he grabbed her arm.

  “Wait, Hollie, you have to listen. At least hear me out. You’re wrong about—”

  Rick, who had apparently been watching from the kitchen window, opened the door. “Is everything all right out here, Hollie?” he asked, concern and protection in his voice.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she told him.

  He went back inside, leaving them alone.

  “What you don’t understand is that Marcy Walker is my ex-fiancée.”

  “So you had a little fight. I’m sure you’ll patch it up. Meanwhile I have a life to get back to,” Hollie said, looking at his hand on her arm.

  He released his hand.

  “No, you aren’t listening to me, Hollie. I wouldn’t have slept with you last night if I was still engaged to
Marcy. She broke our engagement on Christmas Eve—last year. It seems that now she thinks she made a mistake and wants us to give it another try.”

  “And I think you should,” she lied, shaking off a gust of cold wind that made the pine tree by the mailbox shiver.

  “Hollie, you’re being unreasonable. Why won’t you listen to what I’m trying to tell you?” he pleaded, his hands shoved in his pockets so he wouldn’t grab her again.

  “I know what I saw, Nod. I came to your hotel to ask you here tonight, to try to convince you that running away wasn’t the answer. But when I got to your room I saw that you weren’t running away, but toward another woman. A half-dressed woman in your hotel room wearing your engagement ring. There isn’t any spin you can put on that that I will believe. I think you should just go, please.”

  “Maybe you’re right. I never did have much luck this time of year.” He turned and walked away toward his car.

  It took everything Hollie had not to run after him and stop him. But she didn’t want just any man. She wanted a man who wouldn’t disappoint her. A man she could believe in.

  When Hollie went back inside, Sarah was setting the table and Elena was hanging tinsel on the tree as Midnight danced at her feet, trying to snag some.

  “What can I do to help?” Hollie asked, forcing a note of brightness into her voice.

  “Here, you can mix the salad,” Rick offered. “On second thought, I’ll do the salad and you chop the onions to go on top of the chili with the shredded cheese.”

  Hollie knew he’d offered her the onion job because there were tears in her eyes and chopping onions would help her hide the reason for them. Sarah had found herself a real catch. She hoped her friend realized it.

  The rest of the evening went downhill from there.

  Rick and Sarah were so smitten with each other that it was painful for Hollie to be around them. But she was a good friend, and complimented Rick on his cooking, made happy conversation with Elena and tried to assure Sarah with her eyes that she was fine.

  She only had one second of doubt about her decision to send Noel away.