Naughty Christmas Nights

by Tawny Weber

  Jared had taken her under his wing last summer when they’d met in an elevator. Hailey had been on her way to pitch her lingerie designs to the sales team and Jared had been bemoaning a rip in his shirt. Before they’d reached the sixth floor, she’d pulled out some fabric tape for a temporary mend, earning his gratitude and his endless devotion.

  Apparently, a fashion faux pas was, to some, the end of the world.

  “Jared,” she greeted, leaning in for a hug but careful not to let him bump her head. It’d taken her twenty minutes to get the bell-festooned elf hat pinned to her curls in a way that didn’t make her hair look like fluffy poodle ears.

  “I love your gingerbread-man costume. Is that your favorite holiday character?” she asked, flicking her finger on one of his cheerful, oversize buttons. Her eyes widened before she laughed aloud as she noted the words Eat Me etched on the red plastic.

  “Edible goodness, that’s me,” he said with a wink. Then he shifted his head to the left and gave a little wag of his chin. “And if all goes well, that drummer boy over there will be having a taste before the night is out.”

  Used to Jared’s aggressive sexuality by now, Hailey gave the drummer an obligatory once-over before sharing an impressed look with her horny gingerbread friend.

  “But look at you,” he gushed, his loud enthusiasm aimed as much at getting the drummer’s attention as it was appreciation for Hailey’s costume. “You know, I’ve seen at least a dozen elves tonight, but you’re the best by far. You look fabulous. Is everything you’re wearing straight from your lingerie line?”

  “Everything but the skirt,” Hailey confirmed, arms wide as she gave a slow turn to show off the goods. Her candy-cane-striped bustier with its red satin trim and white laces paired nicely with her red stockings and their white seams up the back that ended in clever bows just below the hem of her green tulle ballerina skirt. She was proof positive that the right lingerie could make any woman feel sexy.

  Nothing like a year in the gym, a carb-elimination diet and a great tan to make a girl look damned hot in lingerie.

  Too bad she’d only hit the gym maybe four times in the past twelve months, loved carbs like she loved her momma and was closer to winter-white than sun-kissed tan.

  But that was the beauty of Merry Widow lingerie. A girl didn’t have to have a supermodel body to look—and feel—fabulous in it.

  “Oh, darling,” Jared breathed in admiration as he completed his inspection.

  Hailey didn’t have to follow his gaze to know where he was staring. After all, the guy might not be interested in what her lingerie was covering, but he was all about fashion.

  And her boots were pure fashion candy.

  The white Manolo booties were an early Christmas present from her father. Well, not really from him, since he never knew what to get her. But she’d bought them last month with the holiday check he’d sent, so that made them his gift to her.

  “Hailey, you have the best taste in footwear,” he sighed. “Those boots are perfect. And such a great touch to bring the outfit from cute to couture.”

  “Thanks. Will Mr. Rudolph be arriving soon?” she asked, shifting from one foot to the other. She wiggled her toes in her most excellent boots as a reminder that a girl could handle anything if she was wearing fabulous footwear. “Since he’s announcing his choices for the spring exclusives, shouldn’t he do it before all the designers are drunk?”

  While she was still tipsy enough to use getting one of those prized exclusives as an excuse to seduce the Grinch.

  “Drunk designers only add to Rudy’s sense of fun,” Jared told her with a sly grin. He didn’t say a word about the contracts, though. She knew he knew who’d been chosen. And he knew she knew. But they both knew she wouldn’t ask.

  “Quit obsessing,” Jared said, giving her a nudge with his shoulder and leaving a streak of glitter on her arm.

  “Maybe you should see if the drummer boy’s sticks are worth checking out.” She tilted her head toward the guy he’d been scoping. “I can’t clear my head enough to be fun company.”

  “Darling, I’m here to enjoy the party with my favorite designer. If there was anything I could do to set your mind at ease so you could give the party the appreciation it deserves, I would. But you know me—I don’t kiss and tell.”

  Giving in to her nerves, and reminding herself that she’d taken a cab here, Hailey traded her empty champagne glass for a full one, then arched one brow at Jared.

  “Okay. So I don’t spill company secrets.” He hesitated, then wrinkled his nose and leaned closer. “At least not the ones that could get me fired.”

  Then he looked past her again. This time when his face shifted, it wasn’t into lustfully suggestive lines. Instead, he came to attention.

  “I don’t think the news will be secret for long, though,” he told her, twirling his finger to indicate she turn herself around.

  “Welcome, welcome.”

  Hailey, along with the rest of the ballroom, turned around and came to the same subtle attention that Jared had as a skinny Santa took the stage with two helpers dressed in swaths of white fur and a whole lot of skin.

  She leaned forward, peering at the trio. The nerves in her stomach stopped jumping for a few seconds as she stared in shock. “Wow. Mr. Rudolph sure looks different without his tie.”

  Or maybe it was the fact that the pervy old guy was shirtless under his plush red jacket. Wasn’t he in his seventies? Now, that wasn’t a pretty sight. Afraid to look at it too long, in case it rendered her blind, Hailey glanced at the rest of the crowd. Nobody else seemed surprised.

  “Thank you, everyone,” he said, “for joining the Rudolph-department-store annual holiday costume party. As you can see, my favorite character is Santa Claus. Appropriate since I’m the man giving out the gifts tonight.”

  Fingernails digging into the soft flesh of her palms, Hailey puffed out a breath, trying to diffuse the nerves that’d suddenly clamped onto her intestines.

  This was it. The big announcement.

  She felt like throwing up.

  “This year, instead of simply awarding spring women’s-line contracts, I’ve decided to make things fun. I’ve chosen two favorite designers in each department. Women’s wear, shoes and lingerie. Those designers will compete through the holiday season for the top spot.”

  Hailey’s stomach fell. Competing? That didn’t sound good. She wasn’t the only one who thought so, either, if the muttering and hisses circling the room were anything to go by.

  She gave Jared a puzzled look, trying to shrug off the sudden despair that gripped her. The contracts weren’t being awarded tonight? But she needed to know. Without that contract, she was going to lose her business.

  Jared ignored her stare, tilting his head pointedly to get her to pay attention.

  She dragged her gaze to the stage with a frown. Instead of looking abashed, the old man seemed delighted by the angry buzz. His grin shifted from wicked to a visual cackle as he held up one hand for silence.

  It took all of three seconds for him to be obeyed.

  “So without further ado, here are the finalists in women’s wear,” he announced. A model featuring an outfit from each line crossed the stage behind him as he named the designer.

  Hailey swallowed hard, trying to get past the tight worry in her throat. It wasn’t as if she’d irresponsibly put all of her hopes on this deal. It was more a matter of everything else falling apart until this deal was all that was left to hope for.

  She shifted from one foot to the other, trying to appreciate the gorgeous shoes as Rudolph announced the designer finalists for footwear. But not even the studded black leather stilettos could distract her worry.

  Then he got to lingerie.

  She didn’t even listen to the names.

  She just watched the mode
ls, her eyes locked with desperate hope on the curtain they entered from.

  One strutted out in a wickedly sexual invitation in leather. It was the complete opposite of the Merry Widow’s style, a look that screamed sex. Hot, kinky sex.

  Hailey frowned. It wasn’t her style, of course. But it was appealing. If you like hot, kinky sex.

  Did she like hot, kinky sex? She’d never had the opportunity to find out. For a second, she wondered if the Grinch was into leather. Before she could imagine that, worry crowded the sexy thoughts right back out of her brain. She held her breath.

  “And last but not least, Merry Widow Lingerie.” Echoing the announcement was a model in a white satin chemise trimmed in tiny pink rosebuds, a design Hailey had labeled Sweet Seduction.

  Fireworks exploded in her head, all bright lights, loud booms and overwhelming excitement.

  “Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” she chanted, hopping up and down in her gorgeous booties. She spun around to grab Jared in a tight hug, then did another little dance. “That’s me. That’s me. I made it.”

  She made it. She had a chance.

  An hour later, she was still giddy. It wasn’t a contract, but it wasn’t a rejection, either. And she’d learned young to take what she could get.

  “This is so cool.” Ever since Santa Rudolph’s announcement, people kept coming up to congratulate her. That part was great. What was even better, though, were the compliments about her designs, which were displayed all around the room.

  She felt like a rock star.

  “I’m excited for you, darling. I am sorry it’s not a definitive answer, though,” Jared said quietly, his face taking on a rare seriousness. “I know how bad you need this deal, and I’ve been pitching hard for you. But Rudy got this wild notion that a contest would bring in more publicity and make it more fun. He’ll decide before the New Year, though. He has to for marketing purposes.”

  “What kind of publicity?” Big publicity? Good publicity? Could it net her some new clients, maybe a few features in the fashion rags? Hailey’s stomach danced again.

  “Well...” Jared drew out, wrinkling his glittery nose. “I honestly don’t think he has a lot of publicity lined up. We were all under the impression that he was simply choosing a single designer for each line. But Friday he talked to some marketing guru who convinced him that it’d bring in great promotion if he made it a competition of some sort instead of a straight-up announcement.”

  “Who makes the final decision?” she wondered.

  Jared pulled another face and shrugged. Clearly he didn’t like not being in the know any more than she didn’t like not having a clue.

  But before Hailey could ask more questions, they were joined by a dapper-looking guy dressed like a festive reindeer with his green-and-red-plaid bow tie.

  “Congratulations, Ms. North. I’m Trent Lane, the photographer for Rudolph department stores. I was happy to see your designs in the running. I’ve taken test shots of each submission and yours is my favorite.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. It seems to epitomize romance. But sexy romance. The boudoir-photo kind, not the Hustler-spread kind.”

  Hailey giggled, wondering if the leather getups were Hustler material.

  “It’s my favorite, too,” Jared agreed. “I told you when I first saw the line. It’s perfect. Next season is all about nostalgia with overtones of passion. Bridal fresh but womanly confident.”

  Hailey wrinkled her nose, wondering if he realized he’d just described her gorgeous designs in the same terms used for feminine-hygiene products.

  “Baby’s breath and air ferns lining the runway. Satin backdrops. Maybe one of those long couch things, like Cleopatra would lounge on,” Trent mused, falling into what she immediately saw was a creative brainstorming habit between him and Jared.

  “A chaise. Perfect,” Jared agreed. Tapping his chin, he added, “Maybe carried down the runway by four muscle-bound sex slaves?”

  “That’s not romantic,” Trent dismissed. “You know Rudy really wants to lead the trend this season. If you suggest sex slaves, he might seriously consider Cassia Carver’s mesh love sleeves for a part of the women’s-wear line.”

  Hailey barely kept from shuddering. Avant-garde minis and maxis made up most of Cassia’s line, and while they were edgy and fun, they would hardly compliment Merry Widow’s lingerie. They would, she realized with a frown, go great with Milano’s leather.

  Suddenly the simple contract she’d thought she’d have was now even more complicated. All of the choices were going to have to flow together into a single, cohesive spring debut.

  “Even if Rudy wants mesh and love slaves, there’s no way marketing will go for it,” Jared dismissed. “They’d bury him in the horrible sales data from the last time mesh hit the runway.”

  Oh, yay. A point in her favor. She just had to make sure she racked enough to win this baby. Hailey held her breath, willing herself to look invisible. Maybe if the two men forgot she was there, they’d spill some insider info that she could mop up and use.

  “Well, Rudy wants Cherry Bella to model the entire spring line, and Merry Widow will look perfect on her.”

  Hailey couldn’t contain her little eep of excitement.

  Her designs? Perfect? Cherry Bella?

  Oh, man. That shooting star was getting close enough that she could almost feel the heat.

  “She’d look great in Merry Widow or Milano’s,” Trent agreed. “It’s really going to come down to whichever line Cherry wants to wear. She’ll be the final judge of all the lines, I’m guessing.”

  “Rudy has to get her signed first. And so far, she’s not interested.”

  Trent looked to the left. Jared and Hailey looked, too. Then he looked to the right. They obediently followed his gaze. Forgetting that she was supposed to be invisible, Hailey leaned in just as close as Jared did to listen.

  “I hear Rudy’s pulling out all the stops. He’s crazy to get Cherry signed. He’s tried everything. Promised her the moon. So far, no go. He’s shifted all his promises to her agent now.” Trent gave them both a wide-eyed look, then nodded sagely, his reindeer ears bobbing in emphasis. “Whoever gets him Cherry Bella? They’re golden.”

  Excitement ran so fast through Hailey’s body, she shivered with it. Her lingerie was perfect for Cherry. The statuesque redhead had started as a soulful torch singer, but lately had branched into modeling and a few minor acting gigs, as well. Merry Widow’s flowing, feminine designs would suit her as though they’d been custom made.

  All Hailey had to do was cinch the deal.

  She’d find Cherry’s agent, charm him or her into listening to a personal pitch on how perfect Merry Widow designs would look on the retro singer.

  “Do the other designers know?” she wondered aloud. Seeing the guys’ arch expressions, she scrunched her nose and gave a shrug. What? They all knew she wasn’t really invisible. “Just wondering.”

  “It’s pretty hush-hush since a lot of competitors are always big to get a jump on Rudolph’s spring debuts. So unless the other designers are chatting up Rudy’s staff, I doubt they have a clue.”

  Jared’s snort of laughter was more sarcastic than amused.

  “Which means no,” he explained at Hailey’s questioning look, a little of the sugary glitter flaking off his face as he sneered. “Your competitors are all well established, with top-of-the-line reps, darling. They, unlike you, have huge egos. None of them see the need to fraternize with the help. They talk to Rudy, or they don’t talk at all.”

  She peered through the costumed crowd, looking for any of the lingerie-clad models circling the room. She sighed as one lithe blonde floated by in a Merry Widow nightie. Cotton flowed. Lace rippled. The pearl buttons down the front caught the light, even as the delicate fabric molded to the woman’s perfect body. />
  So romantic.

  And so perfect for the Rudolph account, especially if he got Cherry as his spokesmodel.

  She didn’t want to jinx it but the little voice in her head was already planning the victory-dance moves.

  “I’m surprised Cherry’s agent isn’t all over this deal,” Hailey mused, wondering what they were holding out for. “A contract with Rudolph department stores would rocket her from national to international exposure, wouldn’t it?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Jared agreed, looking like a dejected gingerbread boy with his furrowed brow. “We can’t figure out what the problem is. Rudy’d be tearing his hair out if he wasn’t already bald.”

  “Best we can figure, it’s because the agency is one of those co-op places. The agents all work together on every client. Make decisions by consensus. We don’t even know which agent is at the party. Guy, gal, nobody’s got a clue,” Trent complained, looking like a very grumpy reindeer whose gossip rations were being withheld. “Like I said, whoever reels her in is going to be golden.”

  Then a passing model dressed in a fishnet candy cane and spangles shaped like question marks caught his eye. He straightened his bow tie, gave Jared and Hailey an absent smile, then tilted his head. “Well, I think I’ll go talk up the models and see if any of them are repped by the same agency as Cherry.”

  With that, and a leering sort of grin, he was gone.

  “So what do you think? Do I have a shot?” Hailey asked as soon as he left. Her gaze flew around the room as if the infamous agent might have hung a neon sign around his or her neck, just for fun. If she could find the agent, she could pitch her own designs for Cherry. If she could get the agent enthused, she’d have an inside track. Maybe even a guaranteed deal.

  Excitement bubbling, Hailey gave the room another searching look. Her gaze landed on Trent, who’d apparently given up on seducing the woman in mesh and was now talking to the sexy Grinch.

  Her excitement took on a totally different edge at the sight of that Grinchy butt. The hood of the costume now pushed back, she could see his hair, so black it reflected the blue and white Christmas lights of the tree next to him, wave into the green fur of his collar.