Night Before

by Dani Wyatt

  N I G H T B E F O R E

  By

  Dani Wyatt

  Copyright © 2017

  by Dani Wyatt

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places,

  events and incidents are either the products

  of the author’s imagination

  or used in a fictitious manner.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

  is purely coincidental.

  www.daniwyatt.com

  Cover Credit PopKitty

  Editing Nicci Haydon, Richard Dellamorte

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Night Before

  C H A P T E R O N E

  C H A P T E R T W O

  C H A P T E R T H R E E

  C H A P T E R F O U R

  C H A P T E R F I V E

  C H A P T E R S I X

  C H A P T E R S E V E N

  C H A P T E R E I G H T

  C H A P T E R N I N E

  C H A P T E R T E N

  C H A P T E R E L E V E N

  C H A P T E R T W E L V E

  E P I L O G U E

  V A L E N T I N E ‘ S R O S E

  R O U G H N E C K

  Other Titles by Dani Wyatt

  FOLLOW ME

  Thank You.

  A NOTE TO MY READERS:

  I appreciate every one of you.

  To the sugarplums and hearts that

  Grow three sizes.

  Dedicated to PK.

  You never give up even when you should. Especially on me.

  Here’s to all the twinkly lights.

  .

  Stalkers welcome.

  Sordid fun and other dirty shenanigans

  Follow me here: FACEBOOK AUTHOR PAGE

  Be my Friend here: FACEBOOK FRIENDS

  Visit my author page

  Dani Wyatt on Amazon

  C H A P T E R O N E

  Malcolm

  “YOU KNOW YOUR NICKNAME is Scrooge, right?” My sister Wilomena shakes her head as she turns to watch the leggy brunette rush out of my office in tears. “Malcolm Scrooge Knight,” she adds softly, distracted by the chaos unfolding.

  My assistant Maureen blocks the young lady’s way as she attempts to scurry through the executive office suites toward the elevator. I watch as she is corralled into a waiting conference room before my sister shuts the office door behind her, drawing in a deep breath. I swear she gets more like Mom every day.

  “I don’t care.” I shift in the chair at my desk and go back to hammering out a terse email notifying security to escort the young woman out of the building. She was someone I considered dating. And, truth be told, I don’t even know why I date, not really. I guess it’s just what is expected of me, and I always do what is expected. Even when I feel almost nothing.

  I’ve come to the realization that not only is love not for me, I don’t actually believe it’s real. Sort of like Santa and his Christmas spirit. Smoke and mirrors as far as I’m concerned. From my experience, it’s not me women like, it’s the image of me. The idea of me and the perks that would provide.

  Oh, and the bank account behind that image as well.

  Willie fusses with the Celtic cross around her neck, a gift from my mother on her sixteenth birthday, so many years ago. When she speaks, her voice is flat but her eyes are sad. “That’s the problem. You don’t care about anything.”

  I consider her comment for a moment as I click send then withdraw my eyes from the monitor and fix them on Willie. I hate absolute statements and she knows she’s annoying me with her proclamation that I don’t care about ‘anything.’

  “I care a great deal about many things.” I raise my hands, intertwine my fingers behind my head. “I care that this company makes more profit this year than last. I care that our market share grows by five percent this year. I care that—”

  “Ssssssh. Jesus, just stop talking. You’re giving me a fucking headache.” She waves her hands in front of her, dismissing the protest in my eyes at the cursing. “You are so lucky I know you outside of here.” Her hands now wave about the air. “Because if I only knew the Malcolm Knight that you show everyone in this office and this business, I’d say you are a giant asshole.”

  I let out a deep breath again, taking a moment to digest her comment and ascertain if there is anything contained within that is beneficial to me.

  I quickly decide there is not.

  “Listen,” I keep my tone measured, reasonable, like I’m presenting monthly statements to the board. “This company is my life and I protect the profit as though it was my own child. That allows a lot of people who work here to take care of their own by earning their paychecks. I’m a philanthropist at heart. I care deeply about people.” My analytical nature is satisfied that my statement is true and should close this subject.

  Willie nods, and I feel the satisfaction rise within me. Another win for Malcolm Knight. “A philanthropist, right. What about her?” Willie tips her head toward the now closed door through which the tearful brunette retreated as she walked in. “You know, it’s not normal to have your assistant set up an appointment for your girlfriend to meet with you at your office just so you can break up with her.”

  “What makes you think I broke up with her? Or that she was a girlfriend?”

  “Come on.” Willie shrugs and crosses her arms over her chest. My little sister is the spitting image of our mother and it pulls at my heartstrings whenever her mannerisms remind me so much of mom. “She’s not the first woman I’ve seen leaving here in tears. I know your drill, Malcolm. Beautiful woman, not much between the ears, dating the CEO of the world-famous Knight & Knight department store. Thinks she’s just grabbed the brass ring. But what she doesn’t know is you probably don’t even remember her name by now. Probably never even bothered to learn her last name at all.”

  She looks at me with pity and points her finger toward me as she approaches the desk. Her blue eyes glare at me just like Mom’s always did when I was in trouble.

  I lick my lips, bringing a hand down to grip my chin before I correct her. “First of all, I didn’t even date her. She was under consideration, but we had not commenced in that fashion. And just so you know, I make no attempt to be less than upfront about what I have to offer when I do date someone. In fact,” I reach down and open the bottom file drawer on my desk, flip through the first few separators and then pull a sheet of paper from a file. “I actually have them sign an acknowledgment that they understand the limitations of a dating relationship with me. A kind of release form. See?”

  I shove the paper across the sleek glass desk top and Willie drops her hand to pull it her way. She looks down and after a minute shakes her head, and with a disgusted laugh, she shoves it back at me.

  “You should come with a warning label to all women. Stay away! Emotionally unavailable! Do not be fooled by the good looks and charm! It’s a trap!” She makes over-the-top gestures to emphasize each statement.

  “Stop.” I’m getting annoyed now. “Are you done? I have work to do. Goddamned Christmas is here and our numbers are not where they should be.” I look back at my monitor, and I click to bring up the current sales figures.

  My head pounds when I see that our profit margin goals are not being met and overall sales figures are not where they should be by December 1st.

  “All you do is work, Malcolm. It’s not healthy. Look where it got Dad.” Willie takes a seat and her glare soft
ens. Her voice takes on a hint of Mom’s nurturing tone, tugging at the few soft places I have left. “Mom—”

  I cut her off, pointing my finger at the monitor. “And this fucking Santa’s Village. Every goddamned year this thing costs us millions. Did you hear me? Millions. I wish I was joking.” I huff out a breath. “Well, this is the last year. I’m shutting it down. We keep an entire floor of the store shut down just to house this catastrophe of holiday indulgence. You know what that means? There is nothing for sale up there.” I push the heels of my hands into my eyeballs. “This is a drain on our profit. Even if we do charge people to see the damn place, it doesn’t even come close to paying for itself. So. I’ve already notified the board and made arrangements for this to be the last year for the Knight & Knight Christmas Village.”

  Tightness knots in my stomach as I say the words, and I shift in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable. I took a walk through yesterday, a quick once around the Christmas Village before I made the final, financially sound decision that this would be its last year.

  And, as much as I might hate to admit it, I saw more than just a waste of company funds. I saw this girl, one of Santa’s helpers. Goddamnit, she’s been taunting me ever since.

  I fought with myself all night, remembering watching her as she sat reading to a group of children. Her damned eyes, blue and brighter than the thousands of Christmas lights twinkling everywhere. Shiny black hair cut in a perfect bob, with bangs peeking out from under her elf hat. She never looked up to see me, not once. She was too engrossed in what she was doing. And after a few minutes, I tore my eyes from her and retreated, trying to ignore my unrelenting hard-on.

  From the moment I heard her voice and saw her sitting there, she’s been on my mind. I’m trying to figure it out, because I’ve never had that reaction to a woman before.

  But at 2 a.m., I found myself in the shower, unable to sleep, with my hand on my cock fighting off the images of her sweet lips as she read to the kids sitting on the floor around her. I gripped my shaft so tight, wondering what the fuck was happening to me as I came hard, jets of my release coating the glass wall of my shower.

  That was the first of three sessions during the night, each one of them with that curvy, innocent elf playing lead role in my filthy fantasies. Wondering what she would taste like, how her nipples would harden in my mouth.

  Now, I’ve spent all day battling a hard-on that keeps rising every time I think of her. I’ve had to vow to myself that I won’t go back to the village, unsure what is happening to me and knowing I want it to fucking stop. I keep telling myself there’s no room in my life for anything other than work, even as the image of that elf dances in my head.

  Willie stares dead over my shoulder. There is snow falling outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. We’re on the twenty-second floor, and even I have to admit that the view of the city is breathtaking. Not that that’s why I took this office. I took it because it’s the one that everyone expected me to take, the same office my dad used every day of his working life, here in the Knight & Knight corporate center. The company my grandfather, then my father, built from the ground up. Now the most upscale, prestigious department store in the country—if not the world.

  “You shouldn’t charge people to see it, Grinch.”

  “I thought I was Scrooge,” I fire back.

  Willie sticks out her tongue. “You’re both. The kids that need to see it the most... most of their families can’t afford the price of admission, you know that? It wouldn’t kill you or this company to thaw out your hearts once in a while.” She looks up at the ceiling and draws in a breath. “You know, Mom asked me to do something before she died.” Her gaze shifts to mine and I do my best not to react, even though she knows anything about Mom drives a knife into my heart.

  Dad and I were as much alike as Willie and Mom. The Knight men have always been goal-oriented. Profit-driven. Logical. Success at all costs. But Mom, my mother had a direct connection to whatever soft part of me existed, and she was the one person I loved beyond measure. I loved my Dad I suppose, and he loved me in his own way, but that wasn’t important to us.

  Love was never a motivator for either of us.

  And yes, I love Willie, but nothing comes close to the amazing human being that was my mother, a mother who left me too soon last year, just after Christmas, thanks to a battle with cancer that left her making plans for her own funeral months before the end.

  Dad went like he lived: fast and as expected. A heart attack five years ago. Right here in this office, sitting at this very desk, after flying home from making one of the biggest merger deals Knight & Knight has ever made. He worked for months, day and night, on that deal. And I was right there by his side, learning everything I could about being a ruthless negotiator.

  Only, that day—the day he died—he sent me to the opposite coast. I was in New York as he flew home from L.A. He didn’t go home, though, he came here at 2 a.m. to keep working through the night. When they found him the next morning, his hands were still on the keyboard in the middle of an email.

  “It’s been almost a year, and I’ve not found quite the right time to tell you about what Mom asked me to do for you. But I think now is as good as ever.”

  My chest tightens, and I lean my elbows on the desk top, steeling myself for whatever is coming. As much as I want to tell her to leave, anything that came from my mom I want to hear. Even now.

  “She made me promise to help you find your heart.” Willie’s voice halts on the last word. “That’s what she said. I’ve been thinking about how to do that for so long, Malcolm. She didn’t want you to end up like Dad. She loved him, but they didn’t love each other. She loved us, she didn’t care about the success or the money. She cared about family. She wants you to have what Dad missed. All the holidays he was working. All the Christmas mornings he never saw us open our presents.”

  I spin in my chair and look at the falling snow, unsure what to feel or say. My focus is on growing what is my family, this company. The Christmas Village is where I’ll start. Dad would agree it’s an indulgence. Every department store has a holiday Santa display, of course, and that’s probably justified to bring in customers. But ours is excessive, far too excessive to make business sense. Christmas has never made sense to me, and it didn’t to Dad either, besides what it did for our bottom line.

  Christmas carols make my head hurt. The scent of evergreen makes me itch. And don’t get me started on Santa. Everything in that Christmas village rubs me the wrong way.

  But that fucking sweet ass elf, what about her?

  “Malcolm!” Willie’s voice breaks into my thoughts.

  “What?” I snap back, shoving my chair back from the desk on a huff.

  “You’re not even listening to me.” She shakes her head as I raise my hands, waiting for her to finish. “Fine. Here’s what you are going to do and there is absolutely no negotiation. This is your Christmas present to me and me fulfilling my promise to Mom. You are going to take Randall through the village this year. The whole thing. Santa. The tour. Listening to the Christmas stories. The Christmas carols. Hot chocolate and elves. The entire experience. The whole hour and a half with your own elf escort. And not as Malcolm Knight, either. Good God, the very thought... No, as just Randall’s cheerful, loving uncle. No suit and tie. No special treatment. Just be a normal guy for once. Your nephew adores you and since David left us, he’s got no man in his life to look up to. You’re going to do this for your family.” She brings out that pointing finger again as her words reverberate in my head. “No, scratch that, this is for you.”

  I shake my head and start to speak but Willie stands and turns on her heel toward the door before I can object.

  Her hand goes to the knob, she pulls it open and looks back. I notice that the conference room door is standing open and my most recent potential date is nowhere to be seen.

  Damn, Willie’s right, I don’t even know her last name.

  “It’s your final Christmas gift to M
om.” The finality of her statement hits me in the gut.

  With that, she’s out the door and cold steel wraps around my heart knowing I’ll need all my defenses in place if I run into that elf again.

  C H A P T E R T W O

  Penny

  WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT I would feel the most beautiful I ever have in my entire life when I’m wearing an elf costume?

  Me.

  That’s who.

  But I’ve never had the opportunity to prove my theory until this week. The grin that’s been on my face constantly is starting to make my jaw ache. Living the dream, I am.

  I adjust the tilt of my pointed hat, the bell at the tip jingling cheerfully as I do, and then walk out of the employee break room at the upscale Knight & Knight Department Store with a skip in my step, just because I’m about to start my twelve-hour shift as a Santa’s helper in their world-renowned Christmas Village. Most other workers bail at eight hours. They let me work the maximum twelve, but I could go longer if they’d let me.

  And, if I do say so myself, I’m head elf. I mean, not actually head elf, but OMG, I’m good.

  Better than good.

  I was born for this job.

  Granted, my upbringing and my parents—especially my mother—would beg to differ. See, I’m what others call a prodigy. I’ve been playing piano concertos since I was five years old. Playing the piano has been my life. Well, my mother’s life more than mine. And, in an ironic twist of fate, my other talent is completely freezing up in front of an audience.

  Yep. As long as I’m not on stage, I can play like Rubenstein. But put me in front of even a small roomful of people and I’m all thumbs and no fingers. So, twenty-one years old, one of the most talented pianists in the country, and I can’t take the stage. What an embarrassment. Enter my mother’s last-ditch effort to present her daughter to the world. An intensive, month-long, deprogramming, therapy, torture chamber of a place, right here in New York. A place that guaranteed her I would be cured.