Naughty and Nice

by Sarah J. Brooks

  He was talking. I nodded and settled back.

  “I’m not sure where to begin, even though I’ve rehearsed this a hundred times. You have no idea how much sleep I’ve lost over this moment, Lillie. Just hear me out, as you promised.”

  “Start at the beginning,” I said a bit cattily. “Isn’t that what they say?”

  “Okay. First, I need to tell you about my business. I’m a professional entrepreneur. I start businesses and grow them for the challenge. The money isn’t important – just a way to keep score. My company owns the line of shops called Carolina’s Emporium and Tea room. I know you’ve heard of them, I can tell by the way your eyes just flared. Please, keep listening. Will you?”

  I was feeling ill and took a sip of the drink in my hand. “Go on,” I choked out, feeling sicker by the second.

  “I want to hold you so badly, but if I sit next to you, I won’t be able to tell you. I have to stay where I am.”

  I waved at him to continue.

  “Okay, so as you know, my shops are upscale, and I’ve been opening several each year. I try to make each one a little nicer, a little more unique than the last. I’d decided to give them a European influence and that was why I was on that business trip to Paris and Bremen.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but there was nothing to say. He hadn’t stolen my idea—he was two steps ahead of me.

  “As you know, I volunteer for the Santa thing and I really did call the agency looking for an elf. You just happened to be who they sent. It was pure coincidence. You know what happened from that point on, but what I have to talk about is what led up to that. You see, I have this partner, Steve Perkins.”

  “I know the name,” I mentioned and had to swallow hard to keep from being sick.

  “I was afraid of that. Well, Perkins is a partner in name. He and I don’t share philosophies and I was on the verge of buying him out when all this happened. He’d backed me into a corner to take him on as a partner and I regretted it the next second. But, that’s on me. One day, the day I opened my forty-ninth shop, we passed by your family’s bakery. I mentioned that I liked the location and asked him to look into whether your family may be willing to sell. This is where it gets sticky. I told Steve to ‘do what it takes’ – but not in the way you’re thinking. I swear to you. I meant that he should offer you whatever amount of money you asked for. I wanted the location and would build a model of my other shops. I wasn’t going to keep Flemming’s as it was. Then, I found out about the fire and I went to him. I asked him whether he had anything to do with it. He swore to me he hadn’t. He said it was all coincidence.”

  My eyes were huge as I was processing the fact that Chris had been even remotely involved in my family’s loss. “Who started the fire?”

  His tone of voice rose, suggesting he knew this was the sticky part. “This was the part I didn’t want to tell you, Lillie. I knew you wouldn’t believe me and I’d lose you. I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t know until we had dinner that night that you were part of that Flemming family. I was trapped by that point. I liked you too much. I didn’t know at that point that the fire was anything but an accident, I swear to you.”

  I was boiling. “Go on,” I said shortly.

  “When you told me on the trip that you wanted to rebuild, I was shocked. Your plans and mine were in tandem and I realized how much we were alike. I could see us as partners. But there was no way I could tell you that I’d been connected to your tragedy. I knew you’d hate me.

  “Then the whole thing blew wide open. When you told me about Corey and his affair, I confronted him on the phone. He laughed in my face, threatening to expose me to you and to the police as an arsonist. Steve had gotten to him, set him up and encouraged Corey to turn against me. Corey was feeling so damned guilty, he took advantage of it. We argued. That’s why I cut the trip short. I had to get back and straighten out the mess.

  “I couldn’t have you near me. It was too dangerous. That’s why I left you at the Ramada, despite wanting to kidnap you and take you home with me to live. I had no choice—Steve had seen to that. I hired an intel guy who went through the books. He uncovered a trail that showed Steve had been stealing from the company, at the rate of three million a year. There were two sets of books. His copy showed a payment to a guy named Dillon. My guess is that’s who he hired to start the fire at your bakery. He put my initials there as the authorizer, framing me for the arson. His plan was to set me up for the fall and then activate a clause in our contract that would give him the company if I was convicted of a felony. He had it all laid out.”

  By this point, I was intent on his story, not believing what I was hearing. My anger had dissipated, and I was actually feeling defensive on Chris’ behalf. “Go on,” I encouraged him.

  Well, my attorney helped me. We set up Steve and had his doctored books to prove our case. I had to keep you at a safe distance until I could clear myself. I couldn’t take you down with me. I also had to straighten out Corey and now he and Daphne are in counseling and I think Corey is feeling like an ass. That’s good. Marga says hello, by the way.” He smiled.

  “Hello to Marga.”

  “Okay, so now Steve has been arrested and the books given to the authorities. He and his wife will do time, but he will personally be out of circulation for at least twenty years, my lawyer tells me. As for Carolina’s, I’m selling it to a group of Japanese businessmen. I know they’ll let it fail – they don’t understand Americans.”

  I was silent for a few long moments. I threw out my hands and gestured to the walls. “And this? What’s this all about.”

  “It’s yours.”

  “For what?”

  “I owe it to you. What’s more, I want to be a part of it with you.”

  “A part of what?”

  “Flemming’s. I want you to rebuild your bakery, just as you’d planned. I will back you financially for a quarter stake, but the company belongs to you. When you can pay me back the money you need to borrow, the whole thing reverts to you.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, Lillie, I’m not. And here’s the down payment.”

  He handed an envelope toward me. I took it and looked inside. My mouth dropped open. “How did you do it?”

  Inside was the deed to the original Flemming’s Bakery building, in my name. There was also a handful of tax bills, all marked paid in full. Flemming’s was mine!

  I shook my head. “No, I can’t do this. I can’t let you.”

  “It’s not mine to give, Lillie. It was yours all along. If I hadn’t fucked up your life, you would already be well on your way to success. I believe in you. You have what it takes.”

  I gave some thought to his words, and realized he was right. I was entitled to everything in that envelope. If the business hadn’t burned, I would have managed to save the money to pay off the taxes. I would have eventually made improvements to the building and brought in new products. I would’ve done all the things I went to college to learn how to do. Chris and his finagling had, indeed, stopped me from what was rightfully my future.

  He was watching me. “Can you forgive me? I know you were prepared for this. I’m sorry you had to go through what you did, but I swear I will make it up to you.”

  “Oh, really? Yes, I get that you can hand me the deed and pay off the taxes. I can even appreciate that you’re willing to finance the improvements I want to make. But Chris, how are you going to make it up to me for breaking my heart? Don’t you understand that I’m in love with you? Don’t you understand that you are a wonderful man, exactly the sort of man I want in my life? How would you make that up to me?”

  “Like this,” he said, coming toward me and dropping to one knee as he pulled a box from his pocket. “Lily Flemming, I never thought in a million years I would hear myself ask someone this, but would you be my wife? Will you marry me and have children with me and be my business partner and my partner in all things in life?”

  I was stunned. There’s
no better word to describe it. In just ten minutes, he had managed to take me from the peak of anger to the valley of resignation. I hated him. I loved him. I wanted him. I wanted to be his wife. I wiped away the tears that had once again surfaced. Tears had become a nuisance as of late, but I had a feeling I was in for many more over the next eight months.

  “Thank you. Thank you for being who you are and for loving me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” I whispered.

  “Then you’ll marry me?”

  “Yes, Christopher Tolliver, I will marry you. No, let me rephrase that. We will marry you.”

  “We?”

  I looked downward at my tummy and then back at his face and nodded. “We.”

  “Oh, my God, are you serious?” Joy washed over his face as he lifted me from the sofa and held me against his chest. “I don’t mean to sound corny, but you’ve just made me the happiest man in the world. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but I hope I never get the bill,” he chuckled.

  Epilogue

  Lillie

  I took Papa’s arm as we walked down the aisle, baskets of flowers so abundant standing alongside, that it felt like we were in a garden. I could see Mama, her face beaming with pride as she awaited him. When he went to stand by her side, I went to stand with my husband-to-be. The pews were filled with old neighbors and customers, as well as employees and business associates of Chris. On his side of the aisle sat the three people who would now be my family; Corey, Daphne and rosy-cheeked Marga. She could hardly sit still and had already folded her legs beneath her as she raised up to get a better look.

  I’d asked Daphne to be my matron of honor, but she suggested she’d rather sit with her husband and wanted my wedding day to represent me and my happiness—not the sadness behind how we’d come to meet. I asked my old college roommate, Patsy, to do the honor and she couldn’t accept fast enough. She knew who Chris was by reputation and being maid of honor at his wedding was a golden pass to wink at some of the world’s richest eligible bachelors. I knew her motives, and was fine with it. I had my man.

  The jet whisked us back to Paris, to the hotel where we’d stayed over Christmas. This time it was just the two of us. We spent the days strolling the cobblestone streets, eating and drinking the finest wines. We spent the nights in one another’s arms. Chris introduced me to the eroticism of restraint—not the chains kind, but the kind where you drive the other’s anticipation to unbelievable heights before allowing their release. We understood this for the power play it was. After all, we were partners in life and in business now.

  We moved into Chris’ house on the lake. I knew he had one, but hadn’t ever pictured him anywhere but in his Chicago apartment, which we kept. The house sat on the bluff overlooking the lake and a flight of nearly a hundred steps wound their way through the beach grasses down to the water’s edge. The house was ultra modern, featuring floor to ceiling windows on three sides. There were few places inside that didn’t offer some vantage of the water.

  Chris insisted we maintain a staff and I loved the idea. I wanted to throw all my energy into the new Flemming & Tolliver Shoppes. Three days every week we drove into town and worked, staying at the apartment at night. The other four days we made love, played and planned at the lake house.

  In March we learned we were to have twins. The ultra-sound announced the news to two shocked faces—ours. As I grew heavier with their weight, my work schedule lightened, and I began doing much of what I was contributing from home.

  On the twenty-eighth of August, I awakened to a gentle cramping sensation in my lower back. I lay there, cognizant of what was going on but wanting to revel in the last few minutes of being just Lillie and Chris. He was snoring gently beside me and as the aching progressed into pronounced cramps that made me catch my breath, I reached over and shook his shoulder. “Not to be hokey, or anything, but honey, it’s time.”

  He didn’t move for a long minute, fading gradually into awareness of not only the sun, but my words. He jerked upright. “Shit! Really? This is it?”

  I nodded and smiled, as though I was perfectly calm and had rehearsed it a hundred times. In fact, I felt as scared and sick as I had boarding the jet for the first time. I think Chris could see it on my face because he instantly relaxed his shoulders and put his arm around me.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” I stated abruptly.

  “About what?” he inquired casually, assuming I meant a fabric for the shoppe chairs or an ingredient for the chocolate frosting.

  “Childbirth. I don’t want to do this. I’m afraid, Chris.”

  He began to laugh, actually more of a roar, so loudly that Petula, our housekeeper tapped on the door and came in to see what was going on.

  “It’s not funny, Chris! You aren’t in my shoes!”

  “Oh, sweetheart, it is funny. I wish you could see the look on your face. I’m afraid it’s a little too late for second thoughts. The deed is done, as they say. C’mon, let me help you get up and get dressed. Petula, call Dr. Smithers and let him know we’re headed to the hospital. How far apart are the contractions, Lillie?”

  I shrugged. “I thought it was your job to time them. They just hurt, bad and all the time.”

  “Well, then we’d better get rolling. Off with you, Petula. Call the car around to the front and we’ll be down momentarily. Here, take the overnight bag,” he handed her the LV bag I kept packed in the closet.

  I sat up with Chris’ help and when my feet hit the floor, so did a stream of amniotic fluid. “Chris! My water broke!”

  “You always were one hot, juicy babe,” he joked, but I could see a tenseness in his face that told me we’d better hurry. Thank god we’d elected to use the local hospital rather than drive into the city.

  Over the next forty-five minutes I forgot I was a lady. I called the doctors, nurses and even Chris, names that would make a whore blush. It was too late for an epidural, so I had to do it the natural way. The doctor seemed to think I was fine for a vaginal delivery and indeed, when Mark and Sybil emerged, they were practically holding hands. As for me, I was overjoyed it was over. I held one baby in each arm and beamed as Chris began handing out candy cigars.

  Corey and family drove up for visiting hours and the next day, we were all up to going home. Daphne and Marga stayed on for another day to help me until Mama and Papa could come up on the jet Chris sent for them.

  Six months later, the first Lemming & Tolliver Shoppe opened on the site of the original Lemming’s Bakery. It was standing room only and the line wrapped around the block. I spied Mr. Fischer cruising the block three time, gawking at the spectacle. We’d brought in outdoor café seating for the opening and Chris had hired a quartet to play Mozart and Brahms while wearing formal tuxedos, sitting next to a fountain beneath the heated canopy annex in the midst of a Chicago blizzard. It seemed fitting and reminded me of the day Chris and I had first met and the storm that had brought us together all that night.

  Steve and Marjorie Perkins had been extradited and Chris had it on confidence that they’d entered the witness protection program after testifying against certain very powerful men in the city. He told me soberly that it was unlikely the program could protect the pair, as they were infamous for their ability to get to almost anyone.

  When the twins were old enough to travel, we took them back to Europe and returned every year to a new city. We gathered ideas, ambiance, furnishings and memories for our family. We made it a point to always spend Christmas in Germany. It had been my favorite. Mama and Papa accompanied us one year and I could see that Mama was determined to get Papa to move there. I hoped they wouldn’t; but then there was always the jet.

  I hated that jet, although I never let on to Chris. I just drank the ginger ale and waited for him in the stateroom while the nanny kept the twins busy. Chris and I had always been at our best in the bed. After all, that’s how we turned the naughty, to nice.

  Dear Reader, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

  THANK YOU so much for reading my boo
k! Don’t stop now, the fun is not over yet! As a special gift, I’ve included another X-MAS billionaire novel!

  It’s called “The X-Mas Wonder!” – Happy reading!

  The X-MAS-Wonder

  A Billionaire Christmas Novel

  Sarah J. Brooks

  Chapter 1

  Monday December 23, 2015 – 9:47 a.m.

  Gael Matheson clenched his jaw, crushing his rising frustration while listening to the engineer’s voice through his Bluetooth earpiece. He nodded to his assistant as he passed by her office. She smiled and waved before getting back to her typing. A few more meters, he entered his own office, slightly loosened his navy colored satin tie and dropped his briefcase on the armchair facing his maple desk.

  “What do you mean the jet is unavailable?” he asked in a deep and smooth tone.

  “Sir, there are a few issues that need addressing before we can fly,” the engineer replied from the other end of the line.

  It was difficult remaining calm when those around him were proving incompetent. “You get it sorted at once. I need to get to New York by tomorrow afternoon.”

  Tapping the earpiece, he cut the call short. If there was one thing Gael Matheson hated, it was flying commercial. He doubted he would be able to charter a private plane at this short notice, and that only left the public airlines. Even though he’d be flying business class, it was not much different from economy.

  With his jaw set, he moved to stand at the window where he could see the blue-green waters of the Monterey Bay. Gael stuffed his hands in the pockets of his slacks, resentment curling deep within his chest.

  Every time he was to go to New York, the memories of his past came flooding back. He had everything he’d ever wanted, a self-made billionaire who spent his time, money, and his street-smarts to perfect his brand. It wasn’t easy acquiring Blue Atlantic Shipping. He’d basically invested everything he had in acquiring the company which his grandfather once owned. A knock at the office door made him turn his head.