by Alyssa Dean
“Yes, I want something. I want a one-way ticket to January.”
“Of course,” said Mable. She took a few steps into the room. “Would that be economy or first-class?”
“I’ll go baggage if you can do it. And make sure no one else is on the plane. The rest of the world can stay in December, since they all seem to like it so much.”
“My, my!” said Mable. She strolled closer and plunked her ample figure into the one visitor’s chair Josh allowed in his office. “We’re really getting into the Christmas spirit this year, aren’t we?”
“No, we aren’t.” Josh lowered his eyebrows. “And it’s not because there’s something wrong with me. I like Christmas well enough. I just don’t like it right now!”
Mable smiled. “I’m afraid you’re simply going to have to cope. Christmas isn’t something I can reschedule.”
“Why not?” Josh picked up a pencil and twirled it around his fingers. “This happens every year. Christmas comes along and it’s never convenient. If they have to have these sorts of holidays, why don’t they do it some other time?”
“I don’t know. I guess they just don’t consider your schedule when they plan these things.”
“They certainly don’t.” Josh caught the twitch of her lips and his irritation increased. “Did you find that place yet, like I asked you to?”
“It was more like a royal command, and no, I didn’t. It’s almost impossible to find a place to have a Christmas party now! It’s the first of December. Everything has been booked for months.”
“That’s just great.” Josh tossed the pencil onto his desk. “According to Hank Turnbull, I have to host one of these Christmas things. He said it would be the perfect opportunity to show my hardware to potential investors. How can I do that if you won’t find a place to have it?”
Mable stared right back at him. “Don’t you blame this on me, Josh Larkland. I wouldn’t have had any problem finding a place if you had thought about doing this a couple of months ago.”
“I was busy a couple of months ago.” Josh gestured at the papers littering his desk. “And I’m busy now, too. I’ve got networks to design, schematics to check...equipment to test. I don’t have time for this Christmas stuff.”
“It’s not that bad. It just...”
“It’s worse than that bad! It’s a pain in the neck.” Josh stretched back a hand to massage that part of his anatomy. “People have been phoning all day, suggesting we ‘get together before Christmas.’ A stack of invitations for me to go places came in the mail. Just thinking up reasons not to go is a full-time job!”
Mable’s smile widened. “Why don’t you just go to some of them? Most people enjoy...”
Josh shuddered at the thought. “Well, I don’t. I hate those things. No one ever talks about interesting stuff like network throughput and voice response learning curves. They just sit around, laughing...talking... drinking. Sometimes they even...sing!”
Mable clamped her lips together, and her shoulders shook. “How...uh...bizarre.”
“It sure is.” Josh folded his arms and glowered at the world. “Besides, most of these Christmas things are put on by my relatives.”
Mable rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with your relatives, Josh. Apart from the fact that you have an awful lot of them, they all seem like nice people.”
“They probably are.” Josh got out of his chair and wandered over to look out the floor-to-ceiling windows behind his desk. There really wasn’t anything wrong with his family, and it wasn’t that Josh didn’t like them. He was actually very fond of them, when he remembered they existed. However, none of them knew anything about electronics, telecommunications, robotics or remote voice activation, which was all Josh was interested in talking about. So he couldn’t think of a single reason why he should leave his office early to drive across town just to spend an evening pretending to listen to them while he thought about something else.
Besides, they all had a bad habit of delivering little lectures to him about issues he didn’t consider important. “They just ... don’t approve of my life-style or something.”
Mable snorted. “Of course they don’t approve of your life-style! I don’t approve of your life-style.” She paused. “Not that I consider the way you live much of a style.”
“Jeez!” Josh turned to give her a warning glare, and wondered how much trouble it would be to get a new secretary. “Not you, too!”
“Yes, me, too.” Mable held up a palm. “Don’t get me wrong. When you try, you can be a remarkably decent person. You just don’t...pay much attention to your life.”
Josh furrowed his brow. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well...you spend most of your waking hours either in the lab or this office.”
Josh took a quick look around. The room was exactly as he liked it—a sofa in a corner so he could catch a few hours’ sleep when he worked all night, a computer on his desk, and another unit on the big table beside it. “What’s wrong with my office?” he asked. “It’s just the way I like it. We’re a high-tech—”
“I know, I know. And there’s no question you’re a supreme techo. But you really don’t have much of a personal life.” Mable sighed and shifted in the chair. “For example, I’ve never known you to date the same woman any longer than a week—and that only happens if she keeps phoning you!”
“Yeah, well...” Josh rubbed an eye. That seemed to be everyone’s big complaint. If they weren’t urging him to bring some woman home to meet them, they were dredging up women for him to meet. Sometimes they even hinted that he should be doing this himself.
Josh didn’t grasp the logic of that. There were plenty of women in his family already. They didn’t need any more. He certainly didn’t need one. Oh, he liked women well enough, and when he was with one, he enjoyed himself. But they weren’t as interesting or as important as the high-tech industry he was trying to develop.
“And then there’s your family,” Mable went on. “You don’t spend much time with them, either.”
“I spend lots of time with them,” Josh insisted, although he had a funny feeling that wasn’t really the case. “Besides, when I do see them, they take turns dragging me into a corner and telling me what’s wrong with me. It’s almost a tradition. If we could just eat turkey like everyone else, it might not be so bad.” He returned to his chair and settled into it. “Now they’ve come up with this ... this present thing!”
Mable looked bewildered. “What present thing?”
“You know. Christmas presents.”
“Oh, that.” Mable shrugged a shoulder. “You don’t spend a lot of time on that, Josh. Every year you do the same thing. You buy a case of perfume and a case of brandy. Men get brandy. Women get perfume.” She put her head to one side. “Which reminds me. Can I get on the brandy list this year? I’ve still got three bottles of perfume.”
Josh rolled his eyes. “I’m not giving you perfume this year. Or brandy, either.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” Josh said irritably. “My mother just said that she didn’t think it was appropriate.”
“Your mother?” Mable glanced at the phone, then back at him. “That’s right. She just called, didn’t she?”
“Uh-huh.”
Mable blinked twice. “She phoned to tell you that she doesn’t think it’s appropriate to give me perfume?”
“It’s not just you. It’s everyone. She suggested I do something a little more personal.”
Actually, it had been more than a suggestion. “I want to talk to you about Christmas,” she’d started. Then she’d gone into one of her unfathomable mother-type lectures about thoughtfulness and the real meaning of Christmas that had contained a whole bunch of “not appropriates” and “It doesn’t have to be expensive, dear. But something a little more personal would be better.” And when he’d said he wasn’t sure he could “do” personal, she’d said in that case it might be better if he didn’t give them anything at all!
It had almost sounded good—except something in his mother’s voice told Josh that if he said, “Okay, fine, I won’t,” his mother would be really upset. And although she, along with the rest of his relatives, drove him crazy at times, he didn’t like it when she was upset.
“She doesn’t think giving everyone the same thing is very thoughtful.”
“Ah,” said Mable. “Well, she does have a point.”
“She does?” Josh peered at her. “What is it?”
“Well, it isn’t very thoughtful. It’s sort of like...Christmas shopping in bulk.”
Josh didn’t see the problem. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s just not done. If you’re going to give someone a present, it should mean something. You don’t just do it to get it over with.”
“Oh,” said Josh. He studied her face for a moment. Mable was probably good at this sort of thing—certainly a lot better than he was. “Well, since you understand it, how about if you...”
Mable shook her head. “There’s no way I’m doing your Christmas shopping for you. For one thing, I don’t have time, and for another, I don’t do things like that.”
“Jeez, Mabe!” Josh shoved an exasperated hand through his hair. “It’s not as if I’m asking you to have my children. I just want you to pick up a few things.”
“You want me to do more than pick up a few things. You want me to think up presents for—how many is it?—a couple of dozen of your relatives. I wouldn’t have a clue how to do that.”
“Neither do I.” Josh muttered. That was the problem. He had no idea what his relatives would consider appropriately personal, and he didn’t know how to find out, either. “Couldn’t you just...”
“No, I couldn’t.”
Josh gave her his best I’m-totally-helpless-without-you look, accompanied by a smile. “Please? I really need some help and...”
“No.” Mable pushed herself out of the chair. “There’s no point in wasting all that charm on me, either. I’m not going to do it, and that’s final. I’m your administrative assistant, not Santa Claus.”
“Right about now I’d settle for one of his elves,” Josh mumbled. He eyed Mable hopefully. “How about getting me one of them?”
“Sure, why not?” Mable turned to leave. “Right after I find a place for your Christmas party and arrange for a ticket to January.” She chuckled. “Actually, getting you an elf might be a whole lot easier.”
IF MABLE WAS GOING TO find that elf, she’d better do it soon, Josh decided a few hours later.
He sat at his desk and stared blindly at his computer screen. At least the afternoon had gone a little better than the morning. He’d given Mable firm instructions that he wasn’t to be disturbed, and, for once, she’d actually carried them out. He’d had a good four hours without any interruptions.
But he hadn’t accomplished anything. This whole present thing bothered him a lot more than he liked to admit. He had the distinct impression from his mother that it was important to her as well as to everyone else. It was one of those things the rest of the world seemed to understand, while he fumbled around, trying to figure out what was going on.
And, if he was going to be honest with himself, he’d have to admit that he didn’t try very hard. He did care about his relatives, and he didn’t like being the focus of their disapproval. But he had a business to run, inventions to invent, investors to line up. He didn’t have time to worry about this sort of thing. What he needed was someone to handle all this Christmas stuff—the parties, the invitations, as well as producing a nice batch of personal Christmas presents, all gift-wrapped and labeled, without him having to do anything about it.
He’d just thought that when his office door opened and Mable stepped in. “I think I’ve found a solution to one of your problems,” she said.
Josh eyed her warily. Her lips were stretched into a wide smile, and there was a definite twinkle in her eye. “Oh?” he said.
“Yes.” Mable’s smile grew. “I talked to a friend of mine who suggested I call an executive services agency. So I did.”
“And?”
“And they sent someone right over.” She turned toward the door. “Come on in, dear. And don’t let Mr. Larkland’s manner put you off. He’s horrible, but he’s harmless.”
Josh opened his mouth to object, then closed it again and blinked with startled surprise at the woman entering his office. She stood about five-five, with shoulder-length, white-blond hair that curled around her face. She was wearing a dark green skirt, a long red jacket and high-laced black boots. “This is Amanda Kringleton,” Mable announced. She strode across the room and handed Josh a piece of red paper. “Your Christmas elf.”
2
TERRIFIC, thought Amanda. This time I got the weirdo.
She stood just inside the doorway of Josh Larkland’s messy, high-tech office and wished Brandy was with her. However, Brandy had been out when Larkland Technical Development called. The woman on the other end of the phone had sounded perfectly normal. Amanda had been positive she could handle it by herself.
Now she wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t that the president of Larkland Technology Development had done anything to make her think he wasn’t a nice, normal person. He hadn’t said anything, either. All he had done was stare at her.
He wasn’t even subtle about it. He leaned back against his desk, absently stroking his chin with one hand while he examined her from head to toe and back up again as if he’d never seen a woman before.
Since he was being so rude about it, Amanda didn’t feel guilty scrutinizing him. She probably would have done it anyway, because Josh Larkland was one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen. He was just under six feet tall, with mussy curly brown hair, deliciously deep brown eyes framed with thick, dark lashes, and a high-cheekboned, square-jawed face that was almost classically handsome. The sleeves of his pink-and-gray-striped white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, his tie was bundled up in a corner of his desk instead of tied neatly around his neck, and the blue suit jacket that matched his pants was thrown over the back of his chair in a manner that invited wrinkles.
Okay. He was a good-looking, well-dressed weirdo who didn’t take care of his clothes, wasn’t hung up on neatness and had never seen a woman before.
Amanda took a deep breath. She could handle this. All she had to do was act cool and professional and...
His gaze met hers. He blinked several times, then moved his lips into a slow smile that was so charming Amanda forgot all about acting cool and professional. “I’m staring, aren’t I?” he asked.
“Well...uh...yes, I guess you are,” said Amanda.
“I thought so.” He shrugged. “It’s a natural reaction, you know. After all, I’ve never seen an elf before.” He looked a little puzzled by that, as if he couldn’t understand why dozens of Santa’s helpers weren’t lurking about. Amanda glowered at the flyer in his hand. Darn those things. As soon as she left this office she was going to find them all and burn them. “I’m not really an elf, you know. I...”
“Oh, I know. They don’t exist, right?” His eyes gleamed with admiration. “But if they did, they would look exactly like you.”
Amanda’s stomach fluttered. Don’t get involved with the clients, she reminded herself. Stick to a professional approach. This guy was charming, but he could still be a creep on the make. She cleared her throat. “Look, Mr. Larkland...”
He waved that aside. “Josh. No one around here calls me Mr. Larkland, not even Mable. It’s probably a sign of disrespect.” He frowned. “So is her telling you I’m horrible. I’m not that horrible. Today was an exception. And now that you’re here, I’m positive I’ll be in a much better mood.”
Amanda almost lost herself in his eyes and his smile. He might be on the make but he wasn’t a creep. As a matter of fact...
“I guess we should get down to business, hmm?” Josh motioned her toward the single black leather visitor’s chair in front of his desk and strolled around to t
he chair behind it. “What do you need to get started?”
Amanda struggled to remember what business she was in. “I, um...”
“I guess you’ll require a list.” He stretched back in his chair, blinked up at the ceiling, and started reciting names. “Let’s see. There’s my mother, of course. Edwina Davidson. She married Harold after my father died, which is why our last names aren’t the same. Then there’s my sisters, Shelby, Marilla, and Charmaine. They’re actually my stepsisters, I suppose, since they’re Harold’s children. Oh, and my aunts—Judith, Francine, Sofia, Louise, and Mimi. Francine is my mother’s sister. Sofia is my father’s sister, and Louise and Mimi are Harold’s sisters. Judith is their aunt. That makes her a stepsomething, but I can never remember...” He looked over at Amanda and stopped. “Shouldn’t you be writing this down?”
Amanda had been listening in bewildered silence as he listed off his relatives. Now she snapped to attention. “I could but...” Was she missing something or was he simply not making any sense? “I was, um, under the impression that we were talking about a business function.”
Josh looked puzzled. “A business function?”
“Yes. Your secretary said that you wanted to host a Christmas party...a business Christmas party.”
“Oh, that.” His eyes widened. “You can do that, too?”
“Of course.” Amanda was starting to feel a little dizzy. “That’s what A&B Executive Services does. We arrange office parties, organize business seminars...”
“And handle this Christmas present thing, too? That’s ... amazing.”
“Christmas presents?” Amanda rubbed her forehead with a finger in a vain attempt to understand. “Well, um, we do handle a small line of corporate gifts. Coffee-table books. Business-card holders...”
“Don’t you buy those in bulk?” asked Josh.
“Sometimes. But...”
“Then I don’t think they’ll work for my family.”
“Your family?” Amanda stared at him in astonishment. Surely he wasn’t suggesting... “You want me to get Christmas presents for your family?”
