A Little Christmas Pretense
Page 1
A Little Christmas Pretense
Need a Little Christmas
BOOK ONE
BY RACHEL A. ANDERSEN
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018, 2019 by Rachel A. Andersen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: rachelandersen.author@gmail.com
First paperback edition November 2018
Book Design by Rachel A. Andersen
ISBN 9781711043418 (paperback)
www.amazon.com/author/rachelandersen
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
A Little Christmas Pretense - A Fairy Tale Inspired Sweet Romance (Need a Little Christmas, #1)
OTHER BOOKS BY RACHEL A. ANDERSEN | The Lady of the Manor (Currently Out of Print) | Backward Blessings (Book Six in the Blessings of Love series)
To my mother, whose boundless patience was no doubt tried in the days when all I wanted to do was watch “‘la ‘la,” and yet remembers those days with a smile and a laugh. | Little did we know it was just research.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EPILOGUE | Six Months Later
A Little Christmas Conflict | Need a Little Christmas Book Two | Sneak Peek
CHAPTER ONE
A Little Christmas Conflict
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
All she wants for Christmas is a little respect, but fate has a little something more in mind...
Cindy Ash is looking for the right time to quit her job as a personal assistant to the acting head of Fortescue Publishing. That is, until Richard Prince walks into her life. Between their instant chemistry and the office upheaval created by announced leadership changes, Cindy's life is turned upside down. She’s just not sure she wants it to turn right side up again.
Richard Prince has every intention to fly into Kansas City, help his boss pick the next president of Fortescue Publishing, and get back to his normal life. But that’s before he gets paired with the enchanting and opinionated Cindy Ash. Now, he's not sure he ever wants to go back to the way things were before...
Will Cindy and Richard find a new love before the New Year? Or will the stress of finding Fortescue Publishing’s new leadership end their relationship before it even begins?
OTHER BOOKS BY RACHEL A. ANDERSEN
The Lady of the Manor (Currently Out of Print)
Backward Blessings (Book Six in the Blessings of Love series)
To my mother, whose boundless patience was no doubt tried in the days when all I wanted to do was watch “‘la ‘la,” and yet remembers those days with a smile and a laugh.
Little did we know it was just research.
CHAPTER ONE
“Cinderella!”
Cindy Ash thrust her arm into the fray by the bar at the festive Starbucks, waving at the barista. She often used the fairytale character’s name to keep from her order from getting lost in the bustle of a busy weekday morning.
“That’s me.” She pushed her way through the crowd awaiting their drinks to accept the cardboard box with three brightly colored to-go cups inside..
“Grande steamed milk with a shot of caramel. Grande soy latte with whipped cream and cinnamon, and Venti peppermint latte with a splash of vanilla.”
She offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you. You just saved my bacon.”
The guy grinned with a sparkle of mischief glinting in his eye that rivaled the twinkling lights strung up with the green boughs across the tops of the pastry display cases. “Evil stepmother in a mood this morning?”
Cindy shrugged though a teasing smile played on her lips. “Isn’t she always?”
The barista shook his head though a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Sounds like you could use a Prince Charming to whisk you away from her for a while.”
Cindy raised an eyebrow as she took the cardboard tray with the drinks from him. “And who are you, my fairy godmother?”
The barista threw back his head and laughed. “Not exactly the role I had in mind, but I’ll take what I can get.”
She chuckled as she dropped a couple of dollars in the tip jar and turned to leave.
“Maybe you should put your card in there, too,” the barista said as he began working on a latte for another customer.
Cindy turned back toward him. “Why?”
“Well, it occurs to me that when Cinderella’s in a hurry, she tends to lose footwear,” he quipped. “Might be nice to have a phone number I can call if I find something that belongs to her.”
He winked, and Cindy shook her head with a laugh. “If I don’t leave now, my ride turns back into a pumpkin. You understand.”
He put a new order up on the counter with a good-natured shrug. “It’s always something. Good luck with the evil stepmom, okay?”
She couldn’t help but smile as she turned to leave, the crowd parting for her as she made her way to the exit. Though she had no regrets about not leaving her phone number, she had to admit that it felt good to be appreciated, even briefly.
She heard more than a few chuckles as she slipped out the glass door.
The blast of cold air which hit her in the face erased the smile from her face.
She might not be Cinderella or have an evil stepmother who made her life miserable, but she couldn’t deny that she had her misgivings about the day ahead of her. She would almost be relieved if Cinderella’s evil stepmother were her boss for a day. She could use the break.
“THERE YOU ARE!” MARGARET Stone tapped her pointed shoe against the tile as she stood outside the elevator. “You’re late.”
Cindy Ash mustered an apologetic smile. “Starbucks was abnormally busy this morning.”
Margaret shot a pointed look in her direction as if she was a disappointed teacher rather than an employer. “I don’t accept excuses, Ms. Ash. A failure to plan is a plan to fail.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Instead of responding to the criticism, Cindy offered the woman the warm latte.
The gesture seemed to appease Margaret as she inhaled the rich, bitter scent of her latte. She removed the lid with her slender fingers and took a sip of the liquid which had cooled to the right temperature in the unheated skybridge. Her tone was icy as she studied Cindy out of the corner of her eye. “I hope you remembered to ask for soy milk.”
Cindy just nodded.
How Margaret would be able to tell if there was soy milk under all the whipped cream was a mystery to Cindy. The woman had to have the most precisely complex orders, and she wouldn’t bring herself to return the item any less than three times before she pronounced it passable. Cindy suspected that the latte was perfect though she would never get her supervisor to admit
it.
Margaret frowned as she gestured to Cindy’s gloves, and scarf. “The staff meeting will begin in fifteen minutes. See that you look like you’ve been here for more than five minutes before the meeting begins.”
As Margaret left, Cindy carefully folded her outerwear into her coat before she hung it on the coat rack she kept beside her desk. Even as she did so, she could feel her skin prickle as sensation came slowly back into her frosted extremities.
She had lived in Kansas City for her entire life, but she suspected she would never quite adjust to the windchill which took a normally twenty-six degree Fahrenheit day to negative one with only the bitter Canadian wind whipping down through the Midwestern plains.
She brushed her fingers through her curly light brown hair to revive the style, pushing the strands which the wind had blown into her face back into their places.
“Ooh! Peppermint latte!”
Gillian Montgomery reached for the disposable coffee cup left in the cardboard tray. She lifted the cup to her lips and sniffed, the appearance of perfect relaxation and pleasure making its way across her face as the aroma traveled to her. “Cindy, you know you’re my favorite, right?”
Cindy laughed as she picked the empty cardboard box and threw it in the empty wastebasket near her desk. “And all it took was coffee?” She turned a skeptical glance in her friend’s direction. “I need to cash in on this more often.”
Gillian rolled her eyes as she swallowed down her first sip of the holiday nectar. “Margaret thought we should have a continental breakfast bar for everyone—you know, bagels and cream cheese, pastries, coffee, tea—the whole nine yards just to impress this lawyer.”
Cindy’s brow furrowed. Those tasks were typically delegated to her without thought for her schedule or any other responsibilities she might have on her mind.
Fear hardened into a stone in Cindy’s stomach, and she set down her steamer.
“Relax.” The gentle order caught Cindy’s attention and made her look back at Gillian. “Margaret asked me to get everything ready for today.”
Before Cindy could say another word, Gillian leaned in close. “If you ask me, Margaret has some inside scoop on what this meeting is about, and she didn’t include you in the planning because she thinks she’ll need her regular caffeine fix to deal with it.”
Cindy bit the inside of her cheek, reaching back down to pick up her paper cup and pull it up to her lips. That would explain why Margaret hadn’t demanded her return for a more acceptable latte.
Still, stress made Margaret unpredictable, and an unpredictable Margaret was dangerous.
Cindy caught a glimpse of Margaret’s careful scan of the conference room as she took a sip, and she couldn’t help but watch the woman from afar like an advance scout watching for signs of danger.
She looked not unlike a panther in her sleek black sheath dress and dark hair knotted into a bun at the top of her head. Her eyes roamed the room as if she was stalking the safari for her next prey, watching the habitat as much as the inhabitants for the best way to make her fatal approach.
“Do you think this has something to do with Alastair’s heart attack?” Cindy asked after she swallowed another gulp of warm caramel flavored milk.
Gillian shrugged. “It’s been a month. I’d be surprised if they’re going to hold out much longer without at least naming a temporary replacement for him.”
“I shudder to think about what will happen to us if Margaret gets even more power than she already has.”
Gillian grimaced. “Hey, normally, I’m off her radar, but if I wasn’t so fortunate, I’d be right there with you.”
Cindy took another sip of her steamer. “She’s not technically your boss right now, and she’s already demoted you to bagels and muffins. It will just get worse if she gets this promotion.”
Gillian raised an eyebrow in skepticism as she turned her analytical gaze toward the glass walls of the conference room. “You think so?”
Cindy nodded, glancing back and forth between her boss in the conference room and her friend beside her. “Trust me. She has plans.”
Gillian exhaled slowly as if she had been holding in a breath when Cindy suggested Margaret’s thoughts of workplace domination. “Please tell me that Old Man Fortescue is smarter than that?”
Cindy knew her face held the same doubt that she saw mirrored on her friend’s face.
She forced a smile to her lips as a lanky man in an Italian suit walked into the conference room. She bit her lip as she studied him.
“Who’s the suit?” Gillian whispered from beside her.
“Lionel Humphrey. Alistair Fortescue’s personal attorney.” Cindy released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d trapped in her lungs. “Margaret mentioned something about him just after Alastair’s heart attack went public, but I guess I didn’t realize he would be here for this meeting.”
Why was the man here? Wouldn’t the Board of Directors simply appoint an interim president while they conducted a more formal search? Or was there more to this story?
Cindy’s heart thumped in her chest as Margaret’s sharp, dark eyes caught sight of Gillian’s and Cindy’s gazes.
Though the woman never said a word, Cindy knew her next order: Get in here now.
“YOU MAY HAVE HEARD the news that Alastair Fortescue recently had a heart attack.”
A chill went through the room with every senior staffer’s eye tuned to Lionel Humphrey, watching him for some sign of what was coming.
Cindy's gaze darted toward Margaret who leaned forward in her seat as if she'd heard about an opportunity rather than a tragedy. Margaret's dark eyes glinted with pleasure at the news of her superior’s misfortune. Even her lips twitched as if to form a smile which Margaret was savvy enough to restrain.
“He has stabilized after surgery,” the attorney continued. “But he has decided to retire instead of one day resuming his position as the president and CEO of Fortescue Publishing after his recovery.”
If the announcement had been a surprise to the staff, they hid it well. Honestly, they'd all expected Alastair to retire after the quadruple bypass which had narrowly saved his life. The stress of the sixty-seven-year-old’s lifestyle was going to have to take a nosedive, and Cindy didn’t see that happening if he stuck around in his current role at the publishing house.
Not with so many small publishing firms going under in recent years as America’s attention span continued to decline.
One question filled everyone's minds: Who would replace their leader?
Mr. Humphrey massaged his hands. “Tomorrow, Mr. Fortescue’s oldest son, Alastair Fortescue III, will be arriving from Heathrow International Airport.”
Cindy could feel Margaret’s eyes zero in on her. The Vice President of Acquisitions was going to volunteer to arrange picking the man up from the airport, even sending Cindy to wine and dine him if necessary. Cindy could kiss her relatively nonexistent social life goodbye for the next few days as the younger Fortescue made his rounds.
Somehow, Margaret Stone would make every move and ever sacrifice she made sound like Cindy had been acting on Margaret’s orders though the woman would barely take the time to give her a restaurant recommendation. No, Cindy would be required to do the work while Margaret willingly accepted the glory.
Unaware of the silent politics in his audience, Lionel Humphrey continued. “As his father’s power of attorney, he will be consulting with his father about how to move forward with the company including finding a suitable replacement for the President and CEO position.”
He offered the gathered audience a rueful smile. “I will warn you all, the younger Mr. Fortescue has a savvy business sense with at least three different companies already under his leadership and management. He may feel more comfortable stepping into what he may feel is his rightful place as his father’s heir.”
Cindy watched Margaret’s gaze harden as her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. This Mr. Fortescue had just become her rival, and he hadn’
t even arrived yet.
Gillian reached for a bagel and began applying generous servings of cream cheese to each half, her focus split between her bagel and the lawyer in front of her. What she was doing in this meeting still took Cindy by surprise. She was an editor, not senior management.
The same could be said about Cindy. What exactly she was doing in this meeting was beyond her. She should be manning the phones, not sitting in on the meeting.
Then again, she mused to herself, half the people in the room wouldn’t even notice if she was gone. Nor would they remember Gillian’s presence. Arrogance was as much an accessory for the people in this room as a favorite cologne. A lowly personal assistant was just wallpaper in meetings like these. One only noticed when a dreadful mistake was made.
“Mr. Fortescue has requested interviews with the staff members. He has also asked to look at the acquisition and editing process we provide to our authors here at Fortescue Publishing. He plans to make any announcements about the future leadership of this company at the staff Christmas party on the 23rd.”
Cindy’s eyes widened. That was only three days away. This stranger thought he could reliably determine the fate of the company in that amount of time?
She pursed her lips as she contemplated another thought. The staff Christmas party had always been a time for the staff to relax, and this stranger had just turned it into the linchpin for the next year’s productivity. That certainly offered some degree of credence to the idea that he might take over the business himself. The idea made her cringe. As awful as Margaret Stone was as a person, she was perhaps the company’s single greatest asset. Though she would never admit it aloud, she could imagine there were worse things than hiring Margaret to run the company.
From a purely bottom line perspective.
Cindy felt a sense of panic wrap its hand around her heart and squeeze. If she had to choose between this stranger coming in and upsetting the status quo or Margaret getting the coveted position of President and CEO, which would she choose?