Christmas Delivery

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Christmas Delivery Page 3

by Patricia Rosemoor


  Katie was aware that her grandmother was the better cook by far. Lexie knew they would enjoy spending the extra time together.

  “We’re going to start with Christmas cookies tomorrow night.”

  “On Thursday? What about school on Friday? I remember how Mom gets carried away with her baking and doesn’t know when to stop. You need your sleep.”

  “Nothing goes on in school the last day before the holiday but parties. Actually, Nana wants me to stay for a couple of nights so we can have a marathon cookie-making session. Don’t worry. She’ll make sure I get enough sleep. Aunt Carole’s going to help, too, when she’s not at the garden center.”

  Hardly a domestic goddess herself, Lexie wasn’t surprised that no one had invited her. No doubt because her mother knew that if she went it would simply be to eat the cookies everyone else made, as she had done when she was a teenager.

  Knowing she was going to be too busy finishing up the decorating for the charity ball to have time to spend with her daughter this weekend, Lexie said, “As long as you promise to bring tons of cookies home for me.”

  Katie grinned. “Deal.”

  Lexie smacked her lips in anticipation and set the sandwiches on the table.

  Dinner, such as it was, allowed Lexie to spend precious time with Katie. Between her own work and Katie’s school and activities with her friends, breakfast and dinner were the only times she could count on their being together during the school year. A top student, Katie would spend the rest of the evening holed up in her room doing homework. And, no doubt, e-mailing or text-messaging her friends.

  But for half an hour, Lexie got the update on Katie’s schoolwork, her activities, the other kids. She appreciated every precious moment.

  “So when are we gonna go pick out a Christmas tree?” Katie asked.

  “After I recover from the ball at Drake House.”

  Katie gave her a big sigh. “Cutting it close again. That means Christmas Eve.”

  “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry. But you know how important this season is to the business.”

  “Someday I wish we could put up our decorations before you get so busy.”

  Lexie laughed. “You mean right after Halloween?”

  “Why not?”

  “We’d have to get a fake tree, then. A real one wouldn’t last until New Year’s.”

  “Might be worth it.”

  “If you want to do that next year, it’s a done deal.”

  “Cool.” Katie grinned at her and Lexie grinned back.

  In reality, she knew Katie would change her mind when the time came. Picking out a real tree together and cutting it down themselves was a time-honored tradition they both loved. And Katie would purposely sleep on the couch some nights because she loved being surrounded by the pine scent. Even so, they could at least put up lights in the windows and do some other early decorating as a compromise.

  Though Katie was finished eating, she sat there a while, as if she had something else on her mind.

  Finally, she said, “So there’s a Christmas party Saturday night, but Nana says I need your permission to go.”

  “Christmas party where? At school?”

  “No. It’s a private party. In a house.”

  “Whose house?”

  “Josh Pearson’s.”

  “Josh Pearson.” Lexie tried to place him. “Have I met him? Has he been here?” She’d always encouraged Katie to invite her friends over, so that she would get to know who her daughter hung out with.

  “Um, no.”

  “But he’s in your class.”

  Katie bit her lip, then said, “No, he’s in high school.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Sixteen.” Now Katie sounded truculent.

  “Katie, you’re twelve.”

  “I just want to go to a party—”

  “For teenagers.”

  “So I’m a preteen.”

  A designation she’d given herself since she’d turned twelve.

  “Even if you were thirteen I wouldn’t let you go to a private party with high school kids,” Lexie said. “You’re only in seventh grade, for heaven’s sake. Stop trying to grow up so fast!”

  Katie jumped to her feet. “You just want to ruin my life!”

  “Just for a little while longer,” Lexie said, refusing to engage in a debate. “Please clear the table before you escape to your room.”

  Katie was clearly fighting tears as she did as ordered, then refused to say another word before rushing back upstairs.

  Lexie sighed and shook her head. Her mother had always said it would serve Lexie right to have a daughter just like her—and she had. Just as long as Katie didn’t get pregnant at seventeen the way she had. The time for the safe-and-responsible-sex talk was coming up, but Lexie hoped to delay it just a little longer.

  Thinking about it made her think of Simon again. She tried to watch television to distract herself, but she couldn’t concentrate, no matter which program she tried. Her gaze was continually pulled to the front door.

  Eventually she gave up the sham and got off the couch, grabbed her jacket from the hall tree and went outside.

  Not that she planned to go anywhere.

  On the porch, she stared out toward the path she’d taken through the woods.

  What had she seen earlier?

  Some version of Simon, but whether ghost or her imagination or some guy she put the wrong face to, she didn’t know.

  Even now, Lexie sensed something out there—ghost or man?—but no matter how hard she stared through the tree line, she saw nothing.

  The damp cold got to her eventually, driving her back inside.

  Unable to stop thinking of Simon, Lexie got ready for bed. She could hardly keep her eyes open, and when she climbed under the covers, her eyes drifted closed.

  Even so, Simon’s image stayed with her, fading only as she fell asleep….

  He stood in the fog, staring at her as if silently calling her to him. Pulse fluttering, she moved closer, and when the fog swallowed him, she ran into the thick, wet air to catch up to him. She couldn’t let him get away from her again!

  Suddenly she was jerked off her feet. He caught her around the waist and spun her in his arms so that they were face-to-face. Breathless, she reached up and touched the features that were familiar and yet not.

  “Simon?”

  “I came back for you. I love you…always have…”

  He kissed her then, and her heart swelled with happiness.

  When he ran his hands down her sides and cupped her bottom and pulled her to him, she gasped with desire.

  She held on tight…clung to him. She would never let him go again…

  Chapter Three

  Lexie drove her SUV to Drake House the next morning and told her workers to meet her there. Tired from a night of tossing and turning, and, yes, dreaming of Simon, she’d armed herself with an entire thermos of coffee.

  She chugged down the last of a cup as she rode alongside the bay, noting a couple of boats slapping across the water even though it was past mid-December. She wondered why anyone would want to be out there in weather like this. In a few weeks, weather would force the owners to dock their boats for the rest of the winter.When she pulled into the circular drive, it was right behind a red Jaguar. Cliff Drake had gotten there before her, and at an hour early for him. She wondered why he was there. When she went inside, Cliff was nowhere in sight.

  Marie was standing in the foyer as if waiting for her.

  “Hey,” Marie said, sounding tentative, “everything okay this morning?”

  Lexie wanted to come back with something about Simon’s ghost avoiding her, but considering what she’d seen—or thought she’d seen—on the way home, she couldn’t make jokes about it.

  “I’m good. Tired, but good.”

  “You’re not still angry with me, are you?”

  “I wasn’t angry with you, Marie. I just spooked myself is all, and I needed to walk it off.”
r />   “Oh.”

  Marie smiled and seemed to relax and Lexie gave her a great big hug. She knew her friend only wanted what was best for her.

  Though Lexie was tempted to talk to Marie about what she thought she’d seen the night before, she simply couldn’t. Marie would make a big deal over it, say it was a sign, and would pressure her about her personal life more than ever. Better to let Marie feel a little guilty and drop the issue.

  “Cliff came by to make a donation to the silent auction,” Marie said.

  “So that’s why he’s here. I saw his Jag out front.”

  “You’ll never believe what he’s contributing. Think big,” Marie said. “Too big to bring into the ballroom. We’ll have to use a photo.”

  “One of his sports cars?”

  “Try one of his speedboats.”

  “You’re kidding.” Not that Cliff actually needed more than the three he had. “Huh, wish I could afford to bid on it.” Lexie was sure that, when new, the speedboat had cost him at least six figures. “Where is Cliff, anyway?”

  “He and Doug Heller are with Brandon in his office discussing company business.”

  Looking out from the ballroom across the foyer where Brandon’s office sat facing the drive, Lexie grimaced. “What, no shouting? No loud noises? No gunshots?”

  Marie laughed. “Not so far.”

  Though Lexie was joking, she knew full well that Brandon and his Uncle Cliff didn’t get along. Brandon had no respect for his fun-loving, hard-living playboy uncle.

  The younger Drake brother by more than a decade, Cliff had always been in competition with Brandon’s father, Jonathan. In addition to Drake House, Brandon had inherited his father’s half of Drake Enterprises, which he’d had no desire to run. Now the steady, levelheaded one in the family, he contented himself with continuing to run the foundation and keeping an eye on his uncle.

  Even though Cliff had taken over the CEO position of Drake Enterprises unopposed, he’d kept up the feud, doing his best to outdo, outshine and outfox Brandon. That led to some pretty intense meetings between the two Drake men.

  The company was doing well enough, so Cliff must be doing something right, even if he was relying on his business manager, Doug Heller. At least Marie had told her Cliff relied heavily on Heller to make many of the decisions concerning the Eastern Shore properties.

  Hearing a truck pull up outside, Lexie poked her head out the front door. “Ah, here’s part of my crew now. Time to get started.”

  “Me, too,” Marie said. “There are a thousand little details to take care of. Talk to you later.”

  After putting her crew to work decorating the huge staircase, Lexie reached for her cell phone and realized she’d left it in the SUV. Throwing on her jacket, she ran out and fetched it. The air was cold and crisp, the sky gray. Snow was imminent; it would replenish the half-melted piles on the ground, and just in time to accentuate the majesty of Drake House for the coming guests. Hopefully, it wouldn’t actually snow on the night of the ball.

  Opening the entry door, Lexie stepped inside and saw Cliff with the maid, Isabella Faust, a pretty young thing with huge blue eyes and waves of auburn hair. In her early twenties, Isabella was half Cliff’s age, not that he wasn’t attractive, his slim, six-foot frame usually hung in Armani or some other designer suit.

  Marie had told Lexie that Isabella was Cliff’s newest romantic interest, making Lexie wonder why he didn’t have more discerning taste in women. Marie had also admitted that Isabella was a gold digger, and that the maid had seemed possessive of Brandon—not that Brandon had fallen for her charms.

  “So you’ll meet me at the Duck Blind as soon as you get off work?” Cliff asked the young maid.

  “I might. Convince me.”

  Cliff leaned over and whispered something in her ear that made Isabella giggle.

  Lexie rolled her eyes. Cliff couldn’t resist flirting with an attractive woman. Not that he had ever flirted with her, maybe because she’d had Katie so young. He’d always treated both of them with respect.

  “All right, then, it’s a date,” the maid said, her voice throaty as she sauntered off, rotating her hips for Cliff’s maximum enjoyment. Indeed, he stared after her until she was out of sight.

  Then Lexie said, “Hey, Cliff.”

  Cliff turned to face her, his handsome features lighting up and the corners of his green eyes crinkling with pleasure. “Oh, there are you are. I just had a look around. It’s going to be the most beautiful setting for the charity ball ever. Such talent.”

  “You have to say that since I take care of the landscaping for Drake Enterprises, as well as for your home.”

  “You’re more than a caretaker, Lexie. You’re an artist. Never undersell yourself.”

  Lexie grinned. As far as she was concerned, Cliff wasn’t a bad sort, despite his reputation.

  “I heard about your very generous donation for the silent auction,” she said. “Tired of plying the bay waters around here?”

  “Hardly. It’s one of my favorite pastimes.”

  “I thought maybe you were getting a new hobby.”

  “More like a new speedboat. You know me. XSMG builds the Bugatti Veyron of the sea. It travels over 100 miles per hour. I couldn’t resist more speed!” His grin infectious, Cliff then sobered to ask, “So how’s your Katie doing?”

  “Growing up way too fast. My baby told me she’s going to learn to cook.”

  “Good for her. She seems like a really good kid. One to make you proud.”

  “So proud it scares me sometimes.” Lexie still remembered what growing up had been like. “I sometimes wonder if she has some secret life I don’t know about.”

  Cliff’s smile faded. “Secret life?”

  “Just a mother’s paranoia. You know, when something seems too good to be true, it often is.”

  Before Cliff could say anything more, the front door opened and Doug Heller came in. He ran a meaty hand over his close-cropped, sandy-brown hair. “Hey, boss, we gotta get going.”

  “In a minute, Heller.”

  Heller’s jowly face tightened. “We got that meeting, remember.”

  Cliff’s jaw clenched and unclenched. “All right.” Then to Lexie, he said, “I’m just a slave to the job. You say hi to Katie for me, would you? And don’t worry about her or any secret life she might be leading. If you think she’s a good kid, then she is. Kids pick up on that, meet your expectations.”

  “Thanks, Cliff.”

  Lexie stared after him as he left, taken aback by his last statement.

  Had he been talking about himself?

  Had his father expected him to be the unreliable one and so he’d proven his father correct by becoming the town playboy? Whatever his reason for the advice, Lexie thought it was kind of him to be concerned about any worry she might have over her daughter.

  Cliff Drake might be the wild playboy of the Drake family, but he had a good heart. Several years back, Thornton Garden Center had been in trouble. It had looked like they might have to close up shop—or at the very least scale back to a flower and plant shop, which wouldn’t have made enough profit to support her and Katie, her parents and her sister, Carole.

  Then Cliff personally had sought her out to redesign the landscaping at Drake Enterprises, when in truth, it hadn’t needed to be redone. The following season, he’d hired her to redo the Manor at Drake Acres gardens.

  Lexie had always wondered if Cliff had hired her because he felt sorry for her. His kindness had given the business a well-needed boost. In the meantime, word spread about her landscaping capabilities, and the next thing Lexie knew, she had enough work to keep the family business afloat.

  She would always be grateful to Cliff for that.

  Lexie got back to work. Rather than taking lunch, she ate the sandwich she’d brought while giving instructions to workers putting up small tables near the dance floor, set in front of a low stage that would hold the band. Two high school kids who’d begged her for a way to m
ake some Christmas money came in after school and set up a trio of different-size balsam trees at the far end of the ballroom, decorating them with hundreds of tiny white lights.

  By the end of the day, she was feeling good about their progress.

  Before leaving, she went in search of Marie, who was in the huge kitchen equipped with stainless steel work areas to handle banquets and a more intimate marble counter area for the smaller family and employee meals. That’s where she found Marie with Isabella and the housekeeper Shelley Zachary.

  In her midfifties, Shelley had an iron strength—both physically and psychologically—despite her slender appearance. Her hair was pulled back from a narrow face and her thin brows were penciled over eyes that always seemed to be inquisitive. Or so Lexie thought, after Marie told her to watch what she said around Shelley, since the housekeeper was a known gossip. Rather than hiring another butler after the murder of Edwin Leonard, Marie’s father, Brandon wanted Shelley to run the house, so the woman had moved into Edwin’s quarters off the kitchen, making Lexie wonder if Marie’s business was going to be all over town if she wasn’t careful.

  At the moment, Marie, Shelley and Isabella were at the marble counter area polishing the silver flatware that would be used at the ball.

  “Wow, I can see I’ve got the easy job,” Lexie said.

  Marie grinned. “That’s because you’re not domesticated. I’d rather do this any day than haul plants and trees around.” She held up a serving piece and inspected it. “There’s something satisfying about bringing out the beauty in…well, anything silver.”

  “A woman in love will fool herself into thinking real work is fun,” Lexie teased in return. “I just wanted to let you know I’m done for the day and everything is in good shape.”

  “Wait! Before you go…” Marie reached into her pocket to retrieve something. “I meant to ask you about this key yesterday, but it slipped my mind. It was found on the grounds where you and your crew did some winter prep work last week. I thought it might be yours.”

  All eyes were on the brass key as Lexie took it from Marie. Unique in design, it was solid and heavy—an old-fashioned, barrel-type key with a fancy leaf at the top.

 

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