A Baby For Christmas - A Billionaire's New Baby Romance

by Layla Valentine

  “Happy to endear myself to you,” I said.

  I turned my attention to her work. On the monitor in front of her was a beautiful Renaissance-style portrait of a religious scene of some sort. The detail was impeccable—it looked like something out of a museum.

  “What have you got there?” I asked, leaning in to get a better look.

  “Oh, just something I was working on for the Renaissance section. I wanted to add a painting for the menu screen background, and I remembered that I did this copy of a Caravaggio painting back in high school. I thought it’d work, just as long as you don’t mind me using something back from when I was a kid.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said, admiring the details of the painting. “This is something you did back in high school?”

  “Yep,” she said, treating the subject as though it was nothing special. “I was big into the Renaissance masters back then, and Caravaggio was my favorite. Something about the way he played with light caught my eye.”

  “Shayla, I knew you were talented, but I had no idea you were capable of something like this.”

  “It’s nothing, really,” she said, clearly getting embarrassed from the attention. “Mainly just a tracing.”

  “Talented and humble,” I said. “Not a very common trait pairing for artists.”

  “Is that right?” she said with a smile. “This coming from the owner of a massive building with his name on the front?”

  I chuckled. “Okay, point taken,” I said. “But you have to make your mark somehow. And take credit for it. Might as well do it with some good work.”

  “Speaking of work,” she said. “Do you might if we talk in your office? I had some questions about the medieval section that I think would be better to talk about sitting down.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  Then a voice spoke from a few rows over. “You guys doing all right?”

  I glanced in the direction of the voice and saw that it was Richie, Shayla’s boss. I was beginning to get the distinct impression that he was getting more than a little jealous of how close Shayla and I had become over the last week.

  “Just going over some GUI question in the office with Mr. Cooper,” she said over her shoulder as we walked in the direction of my office.

  “Feel free to drop in if you want to join us,” I said.

  I wasn’t sure, but I could’ve sworn I heard him grumble as we headed off.

  Moments later, the two of us stepped into my office, the Christmas music greeting us as I opened the door.

  “Oh no,” she said, her eyes tracking along the decorations. “You’ve got this place all Christmassed out.”

  “Of course I do,” I said. “Christmassing things out is one of the best parts of the holidays.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t get it,” she said. “Why is it that you’re so gaga over the holidays like this?”

  “The holidays have just always been happy times for me,” I said, touching on the subject without getting too deeply into it. “So every time I put these decorations up and watch the snow settling over the city, it brings me back to those memories of when I was younger. When all I had to worry about during Christmas was opening my presents and eating cookies.”

  She took in my words attentively, but her expression was flat.

  “I don’t know,” she said, rubbing her arms with her hands. “It’s just…I’ve never really gotten the fuss about it. It’s like a food that I don’t really like, you know? Just not for me.”

  It was clear as day that there was something more to her reasons than a simple matter of preference. It was also clear that she wasn’t comfortable discussing the subject, so I decided to let it drop.

  “Everyone has their likes and dislikes,” I said. “Just promise me that you’ll be at the Christmas party. It’s not just for regular employees, you know—contractors are more than welcome.”

  She smiled. “Sure. I’ll be there.”

  “It’s this weekend,” I said. “You should be getting an email soon with all the details. And if you’ve got an ugly Christmas sweater, even better.”

  She laughed that light, chiming laugh that I couldn’t get enough of. I couldn’t believe it, but this girl had totally enchanted me. Her beauty, her talent, her forthright personality—it all worked together to form an amazing package.

  “I’ll do my best,” she said. “But let’s talk about this question I had.”

  “Sure, sure,” I said, leading her over to my computer.

  As we talked, with Shayla going over some questions she had about the designs, I had to use all the focus I had to make sure that I didn’t get distracted by her beauty.

  I was smitten. That was all there was to it. But I had to find some way to get her to change her mind about the holidays.

  And then I realized that the Christmas party would be the perfect opportunity to do just that.

  Chapter 4

  Colton

  “Hot damn!” I said to Trey, taking in the sight of his outrageous Christmas sweater. “You weren’t kidding when you said you had the ugliest of the ugly.”

  The scene on the sweater was baffling. There was a gingerbread man—at least, that’s what I thought it was—seated at a dining room table with Santa’s elves. The table was decked out with an array of holiday foods, each of them stitched on in the most bizarre depiction imaginable.

  And, of course, the whole thing was decked out with glitter.

  “I told you I was pulling out all the stops,” Trey said with a grin.

  “Might as well declare the winner of the competition now,” I said.

  It was the night of the Christmas party, and the top floor of the office had been cleared out and opened up for the celebrations. The place was packed full of employees and the din of fun filled the air—along with Christmas music that I’d handpicked, of course.

  I made the rounds, stopping by the teams gathered together and congratulating them for their hard work, letting them know that they’d earned their bonuses and their time off.

  However, as happy as I was to meet and greet, I couldn’t help but scan the crowd over and over again.

  Richie and the rest of the Liminal staff were there, but Shayla was still a no-show. I began to wonder if she was going to be skipping out on the party. With how much she didn’t care for Christmas, it wouldn’t have surprised me in the slightest.

  Right as I was in the middle of a conversation with one of my executives, however, I caught the sight of Shayla stepping out of the elevator. I was impossibly distracted as soon as I saw her, and I quickly but politely ended the conversation so I could head over to greet her.

  “There she is!” I said, bounding up to her.

  Her eyes lit up as she saw me approach, and she threw her arms open to greet me.

  “Hey!” she said as I pulled her in for a hug.

  I let go, quickly taking in the sight of her in her party wear. She was in a tight red dress that showed off every bit of her gorgeous curves, her dark hair draping over her bare shoulders. It was enough for me to need a quick moment to regain my composure.

  “You okay over there?” she asked.

  “Oh, just a little distracted,” I said. “It’s great to see you! I was thinking you might not come.”

  “And miss out on the free food?” she said with a smile. “Not a chance.”

  I took her coat and handed it off to a nearby attendant hired for the job. As I did, Shayla took in the sight of the office in full Christmas décor with a look of wonder on her face.

  “Does that expression mean that you’re letting the Christmas spirit sneak in?” I asked.

  “It’s impressive,” she said, her eyes flicking from the tinsel and holly on the walls to arrangements of poinsettias to the towering, ornament-adorned tree in the middle of the room. “I’ll give you that much.”

  “It’s definitely that,” I said, a broad smile forming on my face as I put my hands on my hips and admired the decorations. “Part
of me wishes we could leave it up all year.”

  “But then it wouldn’t be special,” she said.

  “Very true.”

  I gestured to the vast spread of food and drinks.

  “Refreshment?” I asked, taking her by the arm and leading her over.

  “I’ll have a little something,” she said. “But not too much—I’m already packed into this dress as it is.”

  The two of us headed over to the table, where I poured myself a tall glass of eggnog, making sure to get a healthy serving of whipped cream on top.

  “You into eggnog?” I asked as I watched Shayla put a few small bits of food on her plate.

  She screwed up her face and shook her head. “No way.”

  I raised my eyebrows

  “Are you serious?” I asked. “How can you not like eggnog? It’s like melted cake in a glass.”

  “Well, there’s that, for starters. And aside from that…I don’t know. I just never really liked it.”

  “When’s the last time you had it?” I asked.

  She glanced away as if searching through her memory.

  “It’s been a while,” she said. “And it was just the stuff from the grocery store.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “You’ve only ever had pre-made eggnog from the store and you’re ready to write off the whole drink?”

  I reached around Shayla and took a cup from the table.

  “You’re having some, and there’s no debate about it.”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “I couldn’t possibly.”

  “Come on,” I said with a smile. “No getting out of this one.”

  My eyes on Shayla, I raised my eyebrows as I held the glass in front of the two bowls of eggnog.

  “You want the booze kind or the non-booze kind?”

  “Fine, fine,” she said, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. “The booze kind. Maybe that’ll help it go down easier.”

  “Atta girl,” I said, pouring her a glass from the brandy eggnog, making sure to scoop some cream from the top.

  I handed it over, and Shayla regarded it curiously, as though she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “It’s homemade. I promise you’ll like it.”

  She flashed me one more skeptical expression before raising the glass to her lips. She took a slow sip, letting the drink hang in her mouth for a long moment before swallowing. I watched her with eager anticipation.

  “Well?” I asked. “What’s the verdict?”

  “It’s…pretty good, actually,” she said. “Creamy and delicious—I’ll admit it. But it’s probably just the booze.”

  I smiled, pleased. Then, I noticed that there was a trace of cream left on her upper lip.

  “Hold on a second,” I said.

  I reached to her face and, with the back of my finger, slowly wiped away the cream. A red blush spread across her face at my touch.

  “Enjoy,” I said softly, “but make sure you don’t give yourself a mustache.”

  The moment hung in the air, Shayla’s beautiful face lit up with a gorgeous smile.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

  It was then that I noticed the little bough of mistletoe hanging above us. I knew it was corny, but I couldn’t resist.

  “You know,” I said. “Th—”

  But before I could finish my sentence, a hand came down softly on my shoulder.

  “Hey, boss?”

  I turned around to see that it was Trey.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “But you wanted me to tell you when it was nine.”

  I checked my watch. Sure enough, it was a few minutes before.

  “That’s right,” I said. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  I turned to Shayla. “Duty calls,” I said.

  “Please tell me you’re not working during the Christmas party,” she said, a playfully scolding expression on her face.

  “Not a chance,” I said. “But I do have some very important business to attend to. Enjoy yourself, and…who knows—maybe you’ll see me again before too long.”

  I gave her a wink, leaving Shayla to her eggnog.

  “Everything ready?” I asked as Trey and I weaved through the party.

  “Of course,” he said. “Made sure the gear was good to go this afternoon.”

  I gave Trey a solid pat on the back as we arrived at my office. I opened the door and, sure enough, everything was there. The desk was covered with stacks of presents, and in the middle was a large, plain box.

  I stepped up to the desk and lifted the lid on the largest box, a big smile spreading across my face at what was inside. There was a red-and-white suit, complete with hat and a big white beard. I took it all out and put it on, stepping in front of the mirror in full Santa regalia.

  “What do you think?” I asked, my voice muffled by the beard.

  Trey gave me the once-over.

  “A little slim for a Santa, but otherwise perfect.”

  I picked up the large, colorful sack that was under the suit and began filling it with presents.

  “Okay,” I said when it was full. “Care to announce Santa’s arrival?”

  “With pleasure.”

  I watched as Trey stepped out of the office and called for everyone’s attention. I was all tingly with excitement—playing Santa was my favorite part of our Christmas parties, and I couldn’t wait to get out there.

  Trey stuck his head back into the office and gave me a nod.

  “They’re ready for you, Santa,” he said with a smile.

  The bag slung over my shoulder, I took one last look at myself in the mirror before stepping out onto the office floor, the entire staff gathered around in a semicircle.

  “Ho, ho, ho!” I shouted out, making my voice extra booming. “Merry Christmas!”

  Smiles spread on the faces of the staff, and it wasn’t a mystery who was behind the beard. I reached into my sack, handing out gifts to all of the employees.

  It wasn’t long before I reached Shayla, who I’d been watching out of the corner of my eye.

  “And you, young lady,” I said. “Have you been a good girl this year?”

  “I’d like to think so,” she said.

  I reached into my bag and found the present I’d picked out just for her.

  “Then this is for you,” I said, handing it over.

  “Thanks, Santa,” she said.

  She was playing it cool, but the smile on her face let me know that she was more than a little amused. I gave her a wink and finished up the rest of my rounds.

  When I was done handing out the gifts—the Christmas bonuses along with some other, more edible treats—I took off my beard and hat and rejoined the party, which continued to go off without a hitch.

  But throughout the rest of the night, I found myself wondering if I’d managed to break through Shayla’s anti-Christmas defenses.

  If I hadn’t, the holidays were still far from over.

  Chapter 5

  Shayla

  I tapped “pause” on the keyboard, the screen freezing in the middle of a sweeping view of a medieval landscape complete with neat squares of marching armies and gray castles dotting the sprawling landscape.

  “What do you think?” I asked Richie, who’d been standing over my shoulder and watching the demo. “It’s the Wars of the Roses section, and I thought it could use a little bump in the ‘epic’ department. Especially now that we’re just putting the finishing touches on everything.”

  Richie shook his head.

  “Amazing stuff, Shayla,” he said. “I can’t believe how well this is all coming together.”

  He plopped down into the chair of the desk next to mine, the office all but empty by that point. The other members of the Liminal team had taken off, and it was just me and Richie and a few others here and there.

  And Colton in his office, of course.

  Ri
chie’s arms shot out in a stretch as he took in a deep, long yawn.

  “You look like you’re about to zonk out, boss,” I said, turning my attention back to the monitor.

  “Just need a little more coffee,” he said. “I’ve still got a few things I want to do before I get out of here for the night.”

  “Same here,” I said, some coffee sounding absolutely delicious to me at that moment. “I’ll grab some for us.”

  I headed over to the coffee pot and poured Richie and myself each a mug. But when I returned to Richie and handed him his coffee, I realized that I needed a little more time on my feet.

  “You want to go over some more of the GUI details right now?” he asked, yawning again.

  “Sure,” I said. “But this sitting’s starting to get to me. I think I need to stretch my legs a little, get some fresh air.”

  “Fresh air?” he repeated. “It’s below freezing outside.”

  “The cold ought to wake me up, then,” I said with a smile as I set down my mug for long enough to pick up my black winter coat and throw it on.

  “You’re crazy, Shayla,” said Richie, taking a sip of his coffee.

  “That’s why you hired me,” I said with a grin.

  I passed Colton’s office on the way out to the balcony, taking a quick glance and seeing that he was seated at his desk, his face in an expression of tight concentration as he plugged away at whatever he was working on.

  It was hard to believe how much time he spent at the office. Colton was here first thing in the morning, and he was always the last one to leave.

  I opened the door to the balcony, a blast of freezing cold air rushing up to greet me. Once I shut the door, I wrapped my hands around my mug, letting the heat from the coffee warm me up. The sun had long set over Brooklyn, the borough twinkling with evening lights. A few stray flurries fell from the sky, and the tops of the buildings were white with snow.

  Colton was right—it actually was beautiful.

  And he was right about the eggnog, I considered with a smile. It was strange—I’d always despised the holidays, but there was something genuinely infectious about Colton’s enthusiasm. I turned around on the balcony, resting against the railing and taking in the sight of the office all decked out in tinsel and holly and Christmas décor.