Mistletoe Mischief (Love and Laughter)

by Alyssa Dean

  “He’s not. I’m meeting him there.”

  “Ah,” Brandy drawled wisely. “Yet another gallant gentleman.”

  “It’s not like that!” It wasn’t, either. Josh had volunteered to pick her up—after he’d agreed that he should attend, too. Amanda had decided against it. “It’s a business function, Brandy. People don’t pick up other people to attend a business function. Besides, this made more sense. We both had to change and...”

  “What’s he changing into?” Brandy interrupted. “A human being?”

  “Brandy!”

  “We know this type, Amanda. We’ve both dated men like him. But even they knew something about their mother. This guy sounds like he hardly knows he’s got a mother.”

  “He does know he has a mother. He just doesn’t know much about her,” Brandy said dryly.

  Amanda frowned at Brandy. “Don’t pick on me. I did what you said to do. I got the business, and I didn’t give it away. He’s paying full price.”

  “For what?”

  “Well, it’s not for me. He’s not at all interested in me.” She thought about the way he’d looked at her when she’d first walked into this office. He had looked interested. But that was because he wanted her to do all his Christmas shopping for him. “I’m just his...Christmas elf. He sees me as a solution to all his problems.”

  “And the start of a bunch of yours,” Brandy teased. “Listen, Amanda, I do appreciate what you’re trying to do, and I want the business as much as you do. But I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Don’t worry, Brandy. I won’t get hurt.”

  “You will if you get involved with someone like this.”

  “I’m not getting involved with him. I’m going to meet his family tonight, that’s all. And we aren’t staying long. I’m just supposed to pop in, ask them a whole bunch of personal questions, and pop out. I have to do it fast, because Josh hates those things.” She paused. “You know, I feel a little sorry for him. He’s so...clued out. And he sounds completely overwhelmed by his relatives.”

  “You feel sorry for him,” Brandy repeated. She sighed. “Oh, dear, Amanda. What have you gotten yourself into?”

  WHAT HAD HE GOTTEN himself into?

  Josh leaned against the archway separating his aunt’s living room from the dining room, and took a long swallow of the frothy eggnog punch that Mimi fondly imagined could replace a decent drink. As usual, his aunt had invited three times as many people as she could seat. There were people draped on the sofa, the chairs...even sprawled in front of the fireplace. More than over half were related to him, ninety percent were a good ten years older than he was, and the ones that didn’t fall into either of those categories appeared to be women any one of his relatives was trying to set him up with—an intent, narrow-faced woman from Charmaine’s cosmic connection class, a perky redhead whom Marilla had introduced as a cat groomer, and a dangerous-looking brunette who was to play the piano later. “So we can sing,” Mimi had explained when she’d introduced them.

  What in God’s name was he doing here?

  He took another sip of his drink and analyzed his own question. There were two reasons for his presence—one, so his Christmas elf could find out personal stuff about people, and two, because he was just a little bit uncomfortable with the conversation he’d had with Amanda.

  He’d seen the look of disapproval on her face when he’d confessed that he didn’t know a whole lot about his relations. He’d been surprised himself at how little he did know. There had been fewer lines of writing on her Christmas gift list than his first plan for his new company. He’d been around these people for most of his life. Granted, he didn’t have much in common with them, but shouldn’t he know basic details, like how old they were, and what they did for a living?

  His musings were interrupted by a middle-aged angular woman wearing a dark blue dress. “Josh?”

  “Hi, Mom.” Josh bent to kiss her cheek with genuine affection. Come to think of it, he didn’t know how old she was, either. He was thirty-two, so she’d have to be somewhere around...

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” she said. “Especially after our conversation this morning. I thought you might be a little...annoyed.”

  “Annoyed? Me?” Josh shook his head. “Of course not.”

  Her gaze searched his face, her blue eyes glimmering with uncertainty. “Then you did understand. About the presents, I mean?”

  “Sure,” said Josh, although he didn’t. He patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Everything’s under control.”

  “It is?” Edwina looked puzzled, but before she could ask anything, Josh’s aunt Mimi bustled up. “Oh, good, Josh, there you are. Marple Stevens has just arrived. She’s got her daughter, Freeda, with her.” She leaned closer. “Now I want you to be nice to this girl. She owns that little dress shop up on Fifty-ninth. She’d be such a help in your career.”

  Josh eyed the determined-looking woman entering the living room. “I design voice response systems, Aunt Mimi. It doesn’t matter what they wear.”

  “Ah,” said Mimi rather vacantly. “Well, I’m sure she has a nice voice. She sings in the choir, you know.”

  Before Josh could think of a suitable response, or even decide if there was one, Mimi trotted across the room toward her guests. “Marple, darling, how wonderful to see you. And this must be Freeda. I’ve got someone here who’s anxious to meet you.”

  Josh groaned and turned, looking for some means of escape, and found himself face-to-face with his uncle Reggie. “Ah, there you are, Josh,” Reggie rumbled. “I wanted to have a word with you.”

  “Did you?” Josh shook Reggie’s hand without much enthusiasm. He didn’t have anything against his uncle, but he had a strong suspicion that he knew what was coming.

  “Yes, I do. Your aunt wanted me to speak to you. She’s very concerned about you, you know. So is your mother. And I can understand...”

  He went on talking about families and responsibilities and a bunch of other stuff that Josh wasn’t interested in hearing. Josh took another sip from his glass. Now he remembered why he didn’t spend a lot of time with these people—or know anything personal about them.

  He abandoned all attempts to find out anything; his Christmas elf could handle it. She’d better show up soon, too, or he was going to announce that he had developed a sudden case of the plague and get out of here.

  AT LEAST ONE of Josh’s relatives had the Christmas spirit.

  Amanda paid the cabbie, and walked toward the sprawling bungalow, gaily decorated with an almost obscene number of Christmas lights. There was a large number of cars parked on the street and, as she approached the front door, she could hear music and laughter and the sound of many voices.

  She raised a hand to press a finger against the doorbell and hesitated. What on earth had made her agree to do this? It had almost made sense when she was in Josh’s office—pop in, ask a whole bunch of personal questions, then pop out. Now it seemed more like an episode of “Mission Impossible.”

  And, to be perfectly honest, she was a little apprehensive about meeting Josh’s relatives. She wasn’t sure what to expect—his various descriptions made them sound like either eccentric gargoyles or candidates for sainthood. Besides, in spite of his assurances that no one would notice they had an extra guest, or be upset about it, she felt a little uncomfortable about attending a party to which she hadn’t been specifically invited.

  She wasn’t a party crasher, she reminded herself. She was attending a business function, that’s all. Besides, if the noises in there and the number of cars parked on the street out here were any indication of the number of people in that house, there was a good chance no one would notice her. Even if they did, his relatives couldn’t possibly be gargoyles, not if they had this many friends.

  On the other hand, even gargoyles probably had friends.

  Amanda took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. To her immense relief, it wasn’t a gargoyle who opened the door. It was a tall, w
illowy woman with curly salt-and-pepper hair and a friendly smile. “Hello,” said Amanda. “I’m Amanda...”

  “Amanda! Of course!” The woman opened the door wider. “You must be Hemp’s daughter. Do come in.” She peered over Amanda’s shoulder. “Is your husband not with you, or is he parking the car?”

  “No. That is, um, I don’t...”

  “He couldn’t make it? Such a shame. But how nice of you to come on your own. Hemp will be delighted. Come inside, dear. It’s getting terribly cold out there, isn’t it? Totally unpredicted, of course. Didn’t they tell us we were going to have a few more days of warm weather before the cold set in?”

  “I did hear something like...”

  “They just never know, do they? Here, now, let me take your coat. And just leave your boots there. Finding your boots when you leave is something of a standard Christmas game, isn’t it? Last year, I went home in someone else’s.” Her forehead furrowed. “They were men’s size ten mukluks. I do wonder who ended up with my size sixes. I’m Mimi Saunders, by the way. Please just call me Mimi. Mrs. Saunders makes me feel quite old. Now you just come on in, and I’ll see if I can find Hemp.”

  “No,” Amanda said urgently. Mimi gave her a quizzical look and Amanda rushed on. “You see, Mrs. Saunders...uh, Mimi, I’m not Hemp’s...”

  “You’re not Hemp’s daughter?” Mimi peered into her face. “I must admit, I was wondering. You don’t look at all like him or Margery, do you?”

  “Probably not,” Amanda agreed. “I...”

  “Of course, you could always be the result of some wild fling.” Mimi giggled and her face lit up with mirth. “But it’s difficult to imagine Hemp having a wild fling—or anyone having a wild fling with Hemp.” She turned as another woman wandered into the hall, this one slightly taller and more angularly built. “Oh, here’s Eeedee. Eeedee, this is...Amanda, isn’t it? She’s not Hemp’s daughter.”

  “Of course she isn’t,” Eeedee said briskly. “Anyone looking at her can see that.” She held out a hand. “Hello, Amanda. Are you one of Charmaine’s friends?”

  “No,” said Amanda, shaking hands. “I’m...”

  “Thank goodness for that.” Eeedee leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Not that there’s anything wrong with Charmaine—or her friends. But they do tend to go and on about this cosmic connection thing. I think it’s because most of them are from Detroit.”

  “I’ve never been to Detroit,” Amanda assured her. She looked curiously around the wide entranceway, admiring the pale green carpet and pastel walls. Not only were Josh’s relatives not gargoyles but this one appeared to have good decorating sense.

  “I’ve never been to Detroit, either,” said Eeedee. “I did spend a little time in Denver, though. I quite liked it there. I’m Edwina Davidson, by the way. Everyone calls me Eeedee. I don’t really mind, although it does sound like they’re reciting the alphabet backward.”

  “Edwina,” Amanda echoed. Then she made the connection. “Edwina Davidson. You must be Josh’s mother.”

  “Why, yes, I...” Edwina stopped talking and stared at Amanda out of two brown eyes that looked a lot like her son’s. “You know Josh?”

  “Yes.” Amanda felt herself flushing under Edwina’s incredulous gaze. “He sort of...invited me here.”

  “Josh invited you here,” Edwina repeated in a stunned-sounding voice. She turned to her stepsister. “Did you hear that, Mimi? Josh invited her here.”

  They both stared at Amanda as if she were the gargoyle. Amanda felt as if she’d made an enormous social blunder. “You see, he—I ... that is...he asked me to...” She realized she was babbling and took a breath. “He said no one would mind.”

  “Mind?” Edwina beamed at her. “Of course we don’t mind.” She slipped her arm through Amanda’s. “As a matter of fact, we’re absolutely delighted.”

  “AND THESE ARE Josh’s sisters,” Edwina concluded. She gestured toward a group of three women, none of whom appeared to be “a lot older” than Josh. “This is Marilla, Shelby, and Charmaine. Darlings, this is Amanda.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Josh’s friend, Amanda.”

  There was a split second of silence that was broken by the women’s excited chatter. “A girlfriend? Josh?”

  “When did this all happen?” asked Shelby, her round, intelligent face alive with curiosity while the stunningly beautiful Charmaine shook Amanda’s hand with outright enthusiasm. “I do hope you’re considering a Christmas wedding. Christmas weddings are so...cosmic!”

  “We’re not considering any wedding,” said Amanda. “As a matter of fact—”

  “Honestly, Charmaine!” Marilla interrupted. “Can’t you see things haven’t got to that point yet? If you aren’t careful, you’ll scare her off.” She gave Charmaine a disgusted look and produced a friendly smile for Amanda. “Don’t worry about it, Amanda. Charmaine can find something cosmic in almost any date.”

  “Every day is a cosmic day,” Charmaine retorted, apparently not the least bit upset by her sister’s attitude. “Except the Ides of March. It has really bad connotations. I wouldn’t get married on that date.”

  Her smile was just as friendly as Marilla’s. Amanda smiled back. Josh had misled her about his relatives, she decided. There wasn’t anything wrong with them—except they all had a disturbing tendency to jump to conclusions. “I’m not thinking about any date,” she told Charmaine. “But if I were, I wouldn’t choose the Ides of March. Listen, I should explain...”

  “Oh, please do,” said Shelby. “We’re all agog with curiosity. How did you meet Josh?”

  “I just walked into his office. I...”

  “Ah,” said Charmaine. “Love at first sight.” She dug an elbow into Marilla’s side. “Doesn’t that sound like a cosmic connection?”

  “Not really,” said Marilla. “It does sound romantic, though. What happened, Amanda? Did you just stare at each other and decide this was it?”

  “I wouldn’t exactly...”

  “Amanda?” called a male voice.

  Amanda turned to see Josh maneuvering his way across the crowded room. He had on a pair of dark trousers, a white shirt, and a deep brown-and-green-patterned sweater that accented the hazel glints of his eyes. Amanda had never been so happy to see someone. That was just because she wanted him to clear up this misunderstanding, she told herself. It had nothing to do with how good he looked.

  He stopped beside her and smiled down at her. “I didn’t see you come in.”

  “I...uh...just got here,” Amanda murmured, flustered by his nearness.

  Josh glanced around the group. “I take it you’ve met my mother and my sisters?”

  “Yes, I...”

  “Yes, she has,” Edwina interrupted. “And we’re absolutely delighted, Josh.” She gave him a little swat on the arm. “But you really should have told us sooner.”

  Josh’s eyebrows gathered together, displaying his confusion. “Told you sooner about what?”

  “About Amanda,” explained Marilla. “Or, rather, you and Amanda.”

  “Me and Amanda,” Josh echoed, his tone as blank as his expression.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Charmaine.

  “Didn’t you think we’d like her?” asked Marilla.

  “Or did you want to surprise us?” asked Shelby.

  Everyone looked at him expectantly. Josh’s gaze met Amanda’s, his expression still confused. Amanda cleared her throat. “I was just, um, trying to explain to your family about our...relationship.”

  “Ah. Our relationship.”

  “That’s right.” Amanda looked around the ensemble of faces. “You see, Josh and I aren’t—”

  “It’s okay, darling.” Josh interrupted. His eyes sparkled with merriment, his dimple flashed with his smile. He put an arm around Amanda and gave her a little hug. “They’re my family. I want them to know.” He smiled fondly into her eyes. His aunts, his mother and his stepsisters smiled fondly at them.

  The only one who wasn’t smiling
was Amanda. She was busy planning on the long, torturous method she was going to use to murder Josh Larkland.

  “I PERSONALLY PREFER the short-haired varieties,” Marilla explained earnestly. “Although I had an Angora once who was quite delightful.” She raised an eyebrow in Amanda’s direction. “What do you think?”

  “I’ve, uh, actually never had much to do with cats,” Amanda stuttered. “But...um, I do find them...intriguing.”

  “They certainly are. I just knew you’d feel that way,” Marilla said, then gave Amanda a big smile. “Who knows? Maybe there is something to this cosmic connection stuff of Charmaine’s.”

  Amanda couldn’t do anything more than smile back. That was the worst part of all this. She liked these people—and they seemed to like her. The only person she didn’t like was Josh. “Maybe there is,” she said to Marilla. “Will you excuse me? I, uh, need to have a word with Josh.”

  Marilla nodded indulgently. “Ah, yes. Romance. Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “Just splendid,” Amanda muttered. She maneuvered her way through the crowd to find Josh. He was standing with a couple of older men, cheerfully knocking back a glass of eggnog punch. “Ah, here she is now,” he said as Amanda came up. He rested a casual arm across her shoulders. “Darling. Have you met Uncle Frank and Aunt Louise? Uncle Frank is an investment counselor.”

  “That’s right,” said Frank. He shook Amanda’s hand enthusiastically. “Frank Bromwell. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I was just telling Josh that he should get together with me in the New Year. Now that you’re thinking of settling down, you should also be thinking about retirement.”

  “What a splendid idea,” Amanda enthused before Josh could say anything. “You really should do that, honey. It sounds fascinating.” She slipped her hand through Josh’s arm. “Will you excuse us, please? I need to have a word with Josh.”

  “You two go right ahead.” Louise gave them a misty look. “We remember how it is, don’t we, Frank?” They wandered off, arm in arm.