12 Naughty Days of Christmas: Volume Four

by Piper Stone

  “Come on, you need the extra money, and this is two easy dates with the hottest bachelor in town, and then off we go to the Carribean for a New Year vacation with money to spare.”

  “It would be nice, and it does sound easy, but you know December is a slave-driver retail month. We are always swamped with special orders and fairly picky customers.” Hope Michaels frowned at her best friend and business partner Christie Landan as she poured her second cup of coffee. “Why don’t you do it?”

  “Because I have a boyfriend who expects me to spend the month dating him.”

  “And I don’t,” Hope said without enthusiasm.

  “Bingo. You don’t even have one on the horizon.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.”

  Christie hugged Hope. “Besides, I don’t think Chad will think it is such a good idea even for some extra vacation money. He can be jealous.”

  “And I’m with him. It seems like I’m selling myself for a little extra money.”

  “A lot of extra money, actually. Basically, it’s two formal events, well one formal and one semi-formal, and a few in-between dates and you walk away with thirty-five hundred dollars and two new gowns. If he has more social events, you get paid more money.”

  Hope rinsed her cup and popped it in the dishwasher before grabbing her coat. Turning before walking out the door she said, “I’ll apply, but I’m not the stick thin, cold model type that I’m sure he will choose. I’ll do it just to appease you.”

  “Great. Here are the requirements and the email address to send the application and don’t forget to send a good picture of you. The one we had done during the grand opening would be a good one.”

  Hope groaned.

  Tucker walked over and looked at the two stacks of applications sitting on his assistant’s desk. On the top of one pile was a well-dressed rather cold woman who fit his profile of past girlfriends perfectly. On top of the second group, he was greeted with an open and honest face that was pretty and anything but cold and well-manicured. I could trust this woman if I were searching for permanent. He shook his head. But this is for a few weeks, that’s it.

  Margaret returned to her task and picked up the stack of five applicants, handing them to her boss.

  “What about this one?” He indicated the woman at the top of the second stack.

  “Oh, that’s the reject pile. I don’t even think this one,” Margaret tapped the photo on top of the reject pile, “really understood who she was applying to.”

  Tucker stared at the photo Margaret was discussing. “Give me that folder as well.”

  “Why? She’ll just be a waste of your time, which you have precious little of right now.”

  “Just do it, please.”

  The look he graced Margaret with was her cue that he didn’t want to be questioned. She didn’t ask him anymore.

  He put his hand out to accept the application file and walked into his office. Tucker’s phone rang just moments later, so he set the stack aside while attending other business. That’s what he was doing when his sister Susan walked into his office. Susan kept the company’s and family’s public relations smooth and uneventful.

  He hung up the phone and smiled before he shifted his demeanor to one of inquiry. “Did we have a meeting? Any problems?”

  “Actually, no, there are no problems and no meeting. I was going to come and ask you to put the kids’ Christmas program on your calendar, but I think this is more interesting.” She tapped the stack of applicants. “Dates for December, I see.” When he nodded, she continued. “I like this top one, but she’s not really your typical type of lady.”

  Tucker reached over and pulled the file off the top of the stack. “I don’t know, there’s just something about her that interests me.”

  “Well, if she’s like her picture, I already like her. She looks approachable, honest, and warm. Not something normally seen on your arm, not since high school, anyway.” She grinned.

  “Do you want to be here for the interviews?”

  Susan looked horrified. “God, no, I’d rather go to the dentist with children.”

  “Write down the date and time, and I will do my best to be there.”

  “Where?”

  “To the kids’ Christmas program, the reason you came in here, remember?”

  “Oh, right.” She leaned down and wrote the information on her brother’s notepad. “Come for dinner next Sunday.”

  “Why? We just had Thanksgiving.”

  “I want to know who you picked as your December date, silly. Besides, I need to have things right for our public relations.”

  “Of course you do, but I don’t understand why. You never like the one I choose.”

  “Pick this sweet-faced one.” She looked again. “What’s her name? Hope. Hope Michaels. See? That is a perfect name for her. Pick Hope, for the holidays. We need some.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Late that afternoon, Tucker reread Hope’s file. Margaret was right, she wasn’t his typical date. Susan had nailed it when she said Hope was a sweet woman with an open face. He would destroy sweet. Tucker replaced it on the reject stack. “This is my Christmas gift to you, Hope Michaels. You won’t have to spend any of it with me.”

  Susan walked into her brother’s office one last time before going home for the day. It was empty. Leaning over to write him a note, she looked at the two piles of applicants for her brother’s December date. Hope’s paperwork was on the decline pile.

  “I love you, Tucker, and you’ve been sad and lonely for a while. You always put the company and me first, but it is time to take care of yourself; time I did some looking out for you.”

  She quickly moved Hope Michaels to the interview pile and brought both stacks to Margaret on her way out.

  His assistant looked at the four “interview” folders and hesitated when she saw Hope’s in the mix but shrugged and left it there.

  All week Christie hounded Hope. “You have to know by now. They should be interviewing now.”

  “Well then, that should give you the answer. I told you I did some research and found that for the last few years he has had a beautiful, sophisticated, and willowy model on his arm. I’m sure my application didn’t go anywhere.” Hope looked in the mirror at her softly rounded hips and smooth, but yielding tummy. “There isn’t anything tall, thin, or svelte about me. I’m probably not even in the first round of considerations.”

  Hope didn’t want to let on that she had begun to have just the tiniest pull of optimism that she might be called for an interview, and not for the reason one would think. She had applied to keep her best friend quiet, but as she researched Tucker James, she saw something else. Loneliness shone through his holiday photos, and there was a vulnerability, a sadness about him. That was the man she wanted to spend time with, the real Tucker James. But Christie was right, it was past interview time. She would just have to find another way to connect with ritzy clientele and stick with her bargain basement trip to the Carribbean.

  “You are pretty and can wear any of our clothes with flair,” huffed Christie.

  “I like me too, Chris.” Hope hugged her friend. “Thanks for having my back.” The shop bell tinkled before Christie could reply. Simultaneous to the door, Hope’s phone was going off. Hope smiled helplessly as she reached for her cell. “Guess you’re up.”

  After finishing the wrapping for Christie’s customer and watching the women happily leaving the shop, Hope smiled at Christie. “I have an interview.”

  “You what?”

  Understanding lit up her friend’s eyes as Hope nodded and repeated herself. “I have an interview tomorrow at six in the evening.”

  “Yes! Wait, Hope, that seems awfully late.” Christie’s skeptical tone was clear.

  “No, I took the last interview because I didn’t want to leave you stranded in the shop alone.”

  Her friend’s face cleared. “Okay, that makes sense. Now, what will you wear?”

  Hope wa
s early, and they were running late, so she watched the first applicant saunter behind a door as she sat in a room of two other applicants, all fitting the profile she had seen online. Hope wasn’t short and dumpy, but she was not these women, and for the umpteenth time, she wondered why she was here. By the looks of everyone else, including the assistant, they all had the same question.

  Finally, after the last coolly smug face walked out of the reception area, it was Hope’s turn. But instead, Mr. James walked out of the office with his coat on.

  “Mr. James, you have one more interview, had you forgotten?” his assistant asked.

  The look of surprise said he had.

  “Well, please don’t worry about it, Mr. James. After seeing the other applicants, I would merely be wasting your valuable time.”

  He stared at Hope for a moment. “Why would you say that?”

  She shrugged. “I can see the pattern, and I don’t fit it.”

  “Maybe I like different, maybe I want different, not sure; but I do want dinner. Care to join me?”

  “Oh… I… Sure, I would enjoy that. Am I over or underdressed?”

  Tucker made a point of seriously considering her dress before answering. “No, I don’t think so. Actually, it wouldn’t matter who I brought in to Maguire’s or how they were dressed, but you’re fine.”

  Hope knew Maguire’s Pub. She had been there a couple of times. While the establishment was an upscale pub that catered to professionals, it had a great feel. “I haven’t been there for a little while, but I agree. I won’t feel out of place. Thank you for the offer.”

  Becca Maguire met them at the door and hugged Hope close. “Hope, I haven’t seen you in forever.” Becca looked over at Tucker. “And where did you find Mr. James? He doesn’t visit very often either.”

  Hope looked at the confused look on Tucker’s face. “Tucker, have you met Becca, Cullen’s wife?”

  Tucker’s face relaxed as he smiled widely. “Not formally, and now I know why Cullen didn’t go out of his way to introduce us. Jealousy colors so much we men do.”

  “And remember that, mate,” responded Cullen from behind the small group. His arm settled around his wife’s waist, and she offered her cheek for a kiss, which he bypassed for a quick touch of lips.

  “Cullen, this is Hope Michaels. You know, the best boutique in town.”

  “Ah, Landan Michaels, yes, I remember the credit card bills.” Cullen feigned dismay.

  “Yes, but you loved the present,” Becca purred.

  Cullen winked at Tucker and Hope. “She doesn’t lie.” He clapped his hands. “So, let’s find you a good seat and feed you.” Cullen leaned into Hope. “Don’t worry about how much he eats; he works it off, I promise.”

  Seated in a lovely corner of the pub, Tucker automatically took Hope’s coat, and without ordering, food and drink began to appear. Conversation and laughter flowed, and before either was aware of the time, her cell phone was ringing. Almost in unison, they announced, “It’s eleven o’clock.”

  “Oh my gosh, no wonder Chris is calling me.”

  “Chris?” Tucker asked with obvious surprise. Hope held up her hand to stop all talk while she answered the phone. “Hey, Chris, I’m fine. Nope, I’m at Maguire’s, and I’ll be home soon. Really, I’m fine. Talk soon.”

  Tucker’s face had shuttered again, and he was getting chillier by the second. “Chris?”

  “Yes, Christie Landan of Landan Michaels. Christie is my partner and my best friend. She just got home from her date, and it is unusual that I’m not home.” Hope saw him relax again and smiled. Were men always so transparent?

  “Sorry. It’s not my business really. I apologize.” He pulled out his card to pay for the evening.

  She reached for her purse. “Oh, I’ll pay for my half.”

  Tucker’s face grew dark, and it seeped into his voice. “You’re with me, which always means my treat.”

  “Oh, but…”

  His expression, if possible, grew blacker and his eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

  “Um, well, thank you.”

  His demeanor cleared almost instantly, and he nodded acceptance. “Hope, can I call you tomorrow?”

  “Sure. Tucker, I, um, I know you need to use one of those models for your date to those events. I’m glad to be your friend if you’ll let me.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to be my friend instead of my date?”

  “Because a friend might be forever, a date, is just, well, temporary.”

  “Can you consider being both? I mean, what if I want you to be my date and friend?”

  “One is a business proposition, and one isn’t.”

  “But I need a date, I’d like to be your friend, and I can pay for the business side while enjoying the friend side. That’s not wrong, is it?”

  “I guess not, but it does make things complicated.”

  “No, only if we become a relationship. This is friendship.”

  “Okay, if you want me to do both, I will.”

  He helped her with her coat. “Perfect.”

  Hope smiled, but she wasn’t sure what she had gotten herself into. Something told her it wasn’t as cut and dried as Tucker wanted it to be.

  Chapter 2

  The next morning Susan breezed through on her way to her own office and asked, “Well?”

  Tucker looked up from his paperwork and said, “Good morning, Suess. I’m fine and you?”

  “Fine,” she huffed. “Good morning. How are you today?”

  “Great, thanks.”

  “And?”

  Tucker looked at his sister with what he hoped was confusion.

  “Your date. Who is she going to be?”

  “No one has signed the contract yet. I’ll tell you when the formalities have been completed.” He paused a moment and then continued. “When is our photo op?”

  “Fine. Whenever you have her signed, call me, and I’ll set things up.”

  Tucker smiled and nodded. Teasing his sister would never get old.

  That same afternoon, his assistant met Hope to sign the paperwork, and when Hope got to the part about no contact after the twenty-third of December, she said she couldn’t sign that and still be Tucker’s friend.

  “It says you cannot contact him, but he can contact you.”

  Hope was adamant that she would not sign unless she spoke to Tucker first.

  “Then I guess you don’t sign,” said Margaret.

  “Fine, then I don’t sign. I’ll call Tucker and tell him why,” Hope said.

  Susan stuck her head in the conference room. “Oh, hi. Hope, right? Hope Michaels?”

  Hope looked at the perky blonde and said, “Yes. I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “No, but we will take care of that now. I’m Susan James Richards, Tucker’s sister. You are his December date, right?”

  “Evidently not,” said Margaret. “She won’t sign the contract.”

  Susan tipped her head to one side and asked, “Why is that, Miss Michaels?”

  “Hope, please. I went out to Maguire’s last night with Tuck— Mr. James. He said we could be friends and I could still be his date for December. This contract states that I will not be able to contact him after midnight, December twenty-third. How can I stay his friend if I can’t contact him?”

  Susan looked at Margaret and said, “She has an excellent point.”

  “Mr. James said to use the same contract as previous years with an end date, and the no contact clause has always been in it.”

  “Let me call Tucker.”

  “You can’t, Mrs. Richards, because he is in with investors.”

  “Ah, well, can we compromise, ladies?” Susan waited for confirmation. “I propose that you modify this contract to read, “No contact after the twenty-third unless Tucker initiates it himself, in which case, it will render this part of the contract void. That way, it protects both of them. If he never calls, it is an
ending of the relationship from this contract. If he does, then it means he wants to continue association and Hope is free to respond, no longer bound by the contract.”

  “Yes, I like that better than I can never contact him. Because as it is written now, even if he contacts me, I could not reciprocate.”

  “Correct,” said Margaret. “That is what he meant for it to say.”

  “And as I said, I would never sign that. Tucker can find another date, and I’ll be his friend,” reiterated Hope.

  Susan wrote Tucker a text asking if she could modify the contract so he could stay friends with Hope after December.

  Yes. Do it.

  Susan showed her text and his answer.

  Margaret rolled her eyes as she went to change the wording.

  “Now, while she’s gone, tell me about yourself.” Susan settled in to hear all about the woman she hoped her brother would like past the holidays.

  The women were laughing when Tucker’s assistant returned. Hope re-read it and had Susan review the wording, and when both were satisfied, Hope signed the contract.

  “Now that’s all done, I guess I should get back to the shop.” Hope stood to put on her coat.

  “Yes, I should too. Just because it’s a family business doesn’t mean I shouldn’t work. Besides, we will get more time to chat. In fact, can I come grab you for lunch sometime next week?”

  “Not sure how my schedule will be, as this is one of the busy times for us, but here, take my card and I’ll put my cell on the back. Call me when you have time, and we can see where we might be able to work it out.” Hope wrote down her number.

  “Great. My cell is on my card. Do you sell formal gowns?” Susan asked as she walked Hope to the elevators.

  At Sunday dinner, Susan refused to wait any longer to talk about Hope. “Why did you choose her?”

  “Don’t know, exactly, but there’s something about her. She just feels different. Besides, she likes Maguire’s.”

  “I’m proud of you. There’s Hope for the holidays yet.”