A Little Christmas Pretense

by Rachel A Andersen

  It seemed ridiculous to her when Richard returned a few minutes later with a handful of rulers and some masking tape that he was going to somehow splint her ankle with these items, but within minutes, he had secured her ankle enough that she was able to get up into the office chair with as little discomfort as possible.

  She’d admired his arms from afar, but Cindy had to admit that there was something intimate and thrilling about having him place his strong arms on her waist while she held his biceps to help her to her chair.

  His hands lingered for a moment at her waist, and she felt a blush color her cheeks at the pleasure of it.

  “I’m afraid the pants will need to be mended.” His voice was soft and low in her proximity.

  She glanced up at his eyes which were the color of dewy grass on a spring morning, surprised by the tenderness she saw there. After all the gruffness and malcontent which had passed between them today, she was relieved to see that the feelings which had felt so promising hadn’t evaporated with their disagreements.

  She swallowed down “That’s okay. They’re just pants. They can even be replaced if necessary.”

  He bobbed his head once before he looked down at the splinted ankle. “I’ll try to be careful, but the truth is, this office chair wasn’t designed for this.”

  She offered him a trusting smile, one that she found she meant far more than she’d ever expected to. “I’ll be alright. I’m stronger than I look.”

  He beamed at her. “Then, you must be very strong indeed.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “I’m going to be so fired.”

  “What?” Richard asked as he returned from turning in her emergency room paperwork. “It was an accident. They happen.”

  Cindy groaned as she looked over at him. “That may be true, but guess who Margaret told about your new office?”

  “Who?” His brow furrowed with confusion. “Mr. Fortescue?”

  “Bingo.”

  Richard chuckled under his breath. “You don’t need to worry about him. Trust me.”

  Cindy looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you kidding? I just had my interview with him yesterday.”

  His eyes lightened with curiosity. “That’s right. How did it go?”

  “After our little break room incident, it was just peachy.”

  She knew she was allowing the pain of her foot and the frustration of the last few hours to make her more irritable than she really was, but she didn’t feel like giving him a break right now.

  He offered her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking.”

  She sighed heavily as she leaned her head back against the wall. “It’s okay. I was trying to get out of there anyway.”

  He cocked his head to the side as if her comment shocked him. “Out of where? Fortescue Publishing?”

  She nodded. “My mother’s right. At some point, if I keep allowing people to treat me as poorly as I let Margaret treat me, I am at least somewhat responsible.”

  The look on his face appeared to acknowledge that she had a sound logic to her argument, even if it was a reluctant agreement.

  “Where will you go?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d like a job that lets me stay where I live, but it’s not the end of the world if I move back in with my mother.”

  He was thoughtful for a moment. “Does she live near here? Your mother?”

  She nodded. “Closer to the airport. In fact, that’s where I stayed so I could be on time to pick you up from the airport.”

  His head bobbed up and down mindlessly as he processed the information. He stole a long look at her as if he was wondering if he could ask her something more personal than he’d asked before.

  The crease in his forehead deepened. It was oddly endearing, and she reached over and brushed the hair back so she could get a closer look. “You might as well ask.”

  “Ask what?”

  “Whatever it is that you’re debating asking me.”

  He smiled with a healthy dose of chagrin as if he should have known that his question would show on his face. “It’s not so much a question. It’s more of a statement.”

  “Okay.”

  “I don’t think you should leave Fortescue Publishing.”

  “I may not have a choice.”

  She leaned down and rubbed her knee which was complaining at being elevated with her ankle. Maybe it wasn’t complaining as much as she made it appear. Maybe she just wanted a break from seeing his utmost sincerity at something that lay so completely out of either of their control right now. “I know you didn’t think it mattered, but Mr. Fortescue was not the least bit impressed with me today.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek. “He almost made me cry today.”

  “Because of the break room thing?” Richard asked.

  “He’s been very concerned about how much time you’ve been spending with me,” she said simply. “He’s worried about what it will do to your credibility.”

  He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple dipped low before bobbing back to its normal spot on his neck. “I suppose it’s not going to help to tell you that he’s just trying to protect me?”

  She shrugged. “I got the impression he was trying to protect me, too, but I think I saw that part too late.”

  Richard studied her under hooded eyelids. He looked like a hurt little boy, and she wanted nothing more than to soothe him and tell him it would be all right.

  He stood and glanced around the overcrowded emergency room. “Why don’t I get you some ice for that ankle, hmm? I imagine it will be a while before they let us back.”

  She nodded and picked up her cell phone. “I’ll be here. Playing Angry Nerds.”

  He offered her a ghost of a smile as he picked up his own cell phone and walked out of sight.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Good news!”

  Cindy looked over to the door where the doctor walked in with a tablet in her hand which seemed to display images of her x-rays. “My ankle’s just sprained?”

  Dr. Nancy Hannigan grimaced and shook her head. “No, it’s broken.”

  Cindy sighed and looked at the swollen, purple mass which she was privileged to call her own ankle. She should have figured that out. She’d never had a limb swell this much or bruise this deeply before.

  “The good news is that it’s a straightforward break, so we’ll be able to set it easily,” the doctor continued. “And so far, I don’t see any evidence of a concussion.”

  Cindy offered her a thin smile. “So, I’m in a boot?”

  She nodded. “Yes, but I still want you to stay off that ankle. Let it heal.”

  Cindy nodded slowly, her heart sinking. That was the end of that. There was no way she could finish moving the file room like Margaret had ordered.

  Richard turned to the doctor as if Cindy wasn’t in the room. “When you say you want her to stay off the ankle, what do you mean exactly? She has an office job, but we could put a chair nearby so she could elevate it as needed.”

  “That’s a great idea,” the doctor said with a bright smile.

  She turned back to Cindy and winked in her direction. “You’ve got quite the guy looking out for you.”

  Cindy blushed.

  The doctor stepped back toward the door. “It shouldn’t be too much longer before you are able to go. We’ve just got to set that ankle, put it in the boot, and you’ll be good to go!”

  Richard’s eyes followed the doctor out the door. “Thanks.”

  He turned to Cindy. “Well, I’ll be honest. That’s not really what I had in mind when I asked you on a date.”

  She couldn’t help it, and she laughed. “It’s not exactly like this was on my Christmas list.”

  He grinned. “I think we can salvage it though.”

  “Oh?”

  “Do you know a good takeout place? I could help you get settled at home while we wait for delivery.”

  Cindy hesitated. “When you say get settled at hom
e...”

  “Ice, blankets,” he quickly listed off.

  His ears turned red as he thought about what she might have been concerned about. He raised a hand in a solemn oath. “I promise. No funny business.”

  A giggle escaped Cindy’s throat before she could think about it. “I don’t think anyone calls it “funny business” anymore.”

  “Maybe not, but it got you laughing.”

  “It helps that they gave me pain meds, ice, and I’m not moving my ankle.” She could imagine the twinkle in her eye as she said it.

  “I’m not proud. I’ll take what I can get.”

  As his eye fell on her injured foot, he sobered. “So, what are you in the mood to eat for dinner? Maybe I can place an order we can pick up on our way to your apartment.”

  She grimaced. “I’m not really sure. I just want to get back to work.”

  “So you can work on finishing my workspace?”

  She clicked her tongue and pointed in his direction. “You’re a good listener.”

  Then, she shifted in her seat. “I don’t need Mr. Fortescue to dislike me any more than he already does.”

  He shook his head as if he was about to tell her that she didn’t need to worry about the older man, but gratefully, he kept his mouth shut.

  Then, as if the thoughts in his head were on the verge of explosion, he breathed. “You’re going to be mad at me, but I should just get it out of the way.”

  Her blood froze. “Why? What did you do?”

  If he emailed or texted Mr. Fortescue to share her big blunder with her boss’s new boss, she wasn’t sure she would ever forgive him. Even if he was trying to make things easier on her with her broken ankle.

  “I called Gillian.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Gillian said she would reach out to some of your friends in maintenance to see if they couldn’t finish up for you tonight.”

  Cindy’s pulse pounded in her ears. “If Margaret—”

  He held a hand up to stop her. “Gillian has been sworn to secrecy. She promises to keep the maintenance staff quiet as well.”

  Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “Well then, I guess you thought of everything.”

  He shrugged, modestly. “It was kind of my fault that you got hurt in the first place. And even though I don’t think you need to worry about it, I knew you would anyway.”

  “You’re getting to know me pretty well,” Cindy said as she felt heat rush to her cheeks at the admission. “I feel I hardly know you at all.”

  He looked at her with a peculiar amount of seriousness veiled in those sage green eyes. “You know what’s most important.”

  It was strange, but in that moment, she didn’t doubt the reality of what he’d said at all.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Cindy groaned inwardly as they drove to the apartment. How on earth was she going to get up the seven steps to the brownstone’s front door? And if that was hard, what exactly was she going to do to get up the three flights of stairs?

  When her mother had broken her foot a few years earlier, she’d just scooted up and down the stairs from a sitting position. Cindy grimaced as she imagined just how dirty her clothes would become if she tried that.

  Maybe she should just stay at her mother’s house for a few weeks while her ankle healed, particularly when her ankle was to bear no weight as the doctor had instructed at the end of the visit. Her lovely new pair of crutches was testament to that.

  “You don’t like the crutches?”

  Cindy looked over at Richard who smiled at the expression on her face. “Hmm?”

  He chuckled. “You gave the crutches this look like they had run over your dog last Christmas. Are you that disgusted with them?”

  Cindy gave him an odd look as she processed his analogy. “That’s a terrible image.”

  His eyes sparkled with amusement. “I never claimed to be a writer. That’s just the first thing that came to mind when I saw how you looked at them just now.”

  She shook her head, though she had a smile on her own lips as she did so. “It’s just the apartment. I’m on the third floor of an old brownstone that doesn’t have an elevator.”

  “Ah.” He nodded as if her concern had just become clear to him. “Doesn’t sound fun on crutches.”

  “Nope.”

  The car slowed down as they arrived at her apartment. In that moment, she couldn’t remember why she had rejected the floor level apartment the landlord had first shown her...

  Oh, that’s right. She’d wanted to get more “exercise.”

  She rolled her eyes. Served her right.

  The car parked on the side of the road, and Richard got out of the car, taking the offensive crutches with him. A moment later, the driver opened the door to where she sat. Cindy carefully maneuvered herself into a position so that she could exit the vehicle as Richard handed the crutches to the driver and whispered something to him.

  His hand, clutching something, passed over to the driver who nodded in agreement.

  Richard ducked down to look at Cindy. “It’s kind of icy out here. I don’t want to take a chance with those crutches.”

  She waved him off. “I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re right,” he said as he reached in and scooped her up in his arms. “You’ll be perfectly fine.”

  Cindy smacked half-heartedly at Richard’s shoulder as he took great care to make sure that neither her head nor her foot had been even accidentally knocked against the door frame. “Put me down! I can make it. I already figured it out. I’m just going to scoot up the steps.”

  Richard’s arms felt safe and warm, and she felt her cheeks color with the idea of how quickly she could get used to this.

  “Scoot up the steps?” he asked with a bemused smile.

  She could almost imagine what he was seeing in his head right now.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea with the outdoor steps. You could freeze in one spot, and then where would we be?”

  He bounced her gently in his arms as if he was trying to check how much she weighed. “Maybe I’ll make you scoot yourself up the inside steps.”

  Cindy gasped as she took in the implications. “Did you just—”

  Her hackles were up again until she looked over and saw the laughter in his eyes, and she smacked him again. “Oh, ha ha!”

  His face broke into an ear-splitting grin. “Couldn’t help it, I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.” She laughed as the driver opened the front door to the brownstone.

  Richard’s chest moved up and down as if he was trying to hold in the laughter before he tilted his head to the side in as close to a shrug as he could manage with her in his arms. “You’re right. I’m not.”

  Though the ride up the three flights of stairs took a little longer than it might have if she’d been independently mobile, Cindy was impressed by Richard’s stamina and strength. Then, she looked over at the driver. He seemed to be trying to hide the amusement on his face as he carried her crutches up after them.

  “I think we made his night,” she whispered, her arms around Richard’s neck to try and help him carry her. She motioned discreetly toward the driver with her head.

  “Oh?” he asked as his eyebrows shot up. “What makes you think that?”

  She allowed herself a tiny giggle. “Because he’s trying not to laugh at us.”

  “Ted, is the lady right?” Richard called behind him.

  Cindy wanted to crawl under the nearest staircase, embarrassed that he would draw attention to her observation as he did.

  The older man kept pace with them as they climbed up to Cindy’s apartment. “Huh?”

  Richard turned to the man and grinned. “Did we just make your night with this whole sweeping the girl off her feet thing?”

  Ted’s eyes danced as he considered the question. “Can’t say I’ve seen it done all that often. And when I get home, I imagine my wife’s going to get all doe-eyed when I tell her about it. Thin
k it’s something right out of the Hallmark channel holiday movies.”

  Cindy pointed to her apartment door when they’d made it up the steps, reaching into the purse she’d had on when Richard had picked her up for the keys.

  Though Richard’s breathing was a little more labored than usual, Cindy had to admit that even in the most athletic of individuals, it was to be expected.

  “I think you can let me down now.”

  It shocked her that the mere thought of what he had done for her, that he had saved her dignity by carrying her rather than her having to scoot herself up the stairs, made a lump swell in her throat.

  Though he seemed reluctant for a moment, he seemed to recognize that trying to turn the key in the lock from her perch in his arms might feel awkward. He nodded in understanding as he carefully helped her down.

  Without a word, he wrapped his strong arm around her waist. The action encouraged her to keep her left arm wrapped around his shoulders for stability as she lifted her foot off the floor. Though she felt a little unsteady, she was able to insert the key in the lock and open the door.

  She turned toward the driver and extended a hand for the crutches which he offered to her with a nod. “Ted, thank you for bringing my crutches up.”

  “A pleasure,” he said, his gruff voice warm with affection.

  Cindy felt a wave of disappointment as Richard’s arm gradually released her to her crutches. How stupid, she thought to herself, that she should be so disappointed by a logical action. He was just responding to her own request for her crutches. She had no doubt that he would have swept her back up into his arms and walked her to the couch if he’d had his say.

  His respect for her independence was something to be admired.

  Besides, she didn’t need to allow her mind the idea of him carrying her over the threshold. She was far too interested in the man as it was.

  “After you,” he said with a slight bow.

  And again, her heart melted.

  RICHARD ACCEPTED THE bags of food from the delivery person and handed them a bill. “Keep the change.”