Cole For Christmas Page 2

  “I don’t look down, and there’s a payoff when skiing. Nothing good comes with ladders.” He reached up and slid the star over the center. “Why are you so comfortable with heights?” He fumbled with the cord, and I felt his whole body shake while he reached farther to push the plug into the waiting socket attached to the tree.

  “My dad’s a painter, and I spent my childhood helping him. I grew up on a ladder.” Just then, the star lit up, and light shot out from each point, spilling across the room. Breathtaking. Given the bright smile on his face, even Elias seemed to be feeling happy.

  We’d put in a good day’s work, and I invited Elias to come back tomorrow. He was a hard worker and was open to suggestion. That went a long way with me, but when I asked him to come back he busted into thunderous laughter and told me he would be here. No wonder he was unemployed, he was weird.

  He folded the ladder and walked it to my trailer. When he returned, I was sitting on the sofa in a room lit only by the Christmas tree. Stunning. I’d never seen one as beautiful. I knew I could do a good job, but I had no idea how amazing seventeen feet of glass balls, satin ribbon, and peppermint candy could look. I only hoped Christmas joy might reach Elias too. Shame I couldn’t help with that.

  Chapter 2

  Snow had been coming down all night long. Inches of the fluffy white stuff covered everything in sight. I inched my SUV up the driveway and parked in front of the same garage door as yesterday. I was a creature of habit, and that parking place had temporarily become mine.

  Would Elias be waiting by the door? I glanced around but didn’t see him. A feeling of disappointment sank heavily in my stomach. I liked him. He didn’t talk much about himself, but he wasn’t bad company. Today would go much slower with his absence, and the view wouldn’t be as pleasant.

  Golden lights backlit the windows. I was certain I’d turned off everything before I left yesterday. In fact, I went in twice to make sure. I never wanted to be thought of as irresponsible when it came to other people’s property.

  Maybe Mr. Cole had arrived. My heart skipped a beat at the thought. In an ideal situation the owners would be absent until the big reveal, then they would show up and ooh and ahh over the transformation. I’d collect my check and be on my way.

  I killed the engine and climbed out of the warm cab into the cold air. My jacket was zipped all the way to my neck, the collar pulled around my ears. I trudged through the snow to my trailer. Dozens of fresh garlands and several wreaths were sitting in the back, waiting to make their holiday debut. With some strategically placed pine cones and ribbons, I would transform a strip of plain pine into a thing of beauty. Today, the focus would be on the mantel and stairs, tomorrow the entry and kitchen. Watch out, Norman Rockwell.

  I gave another look-see, hoping Elias would appear out of thin air, but he was nowhere to be found. Maybe I’d scared him away. “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” began to play on my phone. I themed my ringtones to the season.

  “Hello.” I recognized the nasally tone right away. The owner of Tannenbaum Temps could have given Fran Drescher a run for her money. In a blind auditory test, it would have been tough to tell them apart.

  “Hi, Chloe. I just wanted to call and apologize for not being able to send anyone over yesterday.” Did she just say she was sorry no one showed yesterday? Surely she was mistaken. “Everyone seems to be needing extra help, and there wasn’t anyone to spare.” The rrrrr dragged on for a lifetime.

  “Elias came.” I wanted to tell her she could rent him as eye candy, but that seemed unprofessional, and I was still trying to slide my foot through the tiny crack in the door to Aspen. “He did a great job. Thanks.”

  “I’m so glad you found someone else. I hope you’ll use us again.” The woman had lost her sugar cookies. I’d found Elias through her. Not wanting to push the point, I thanked her and hung up. With Elias a no-show, I was on my own today. I pulled a box of evergreens from the trailer and plowed my way to the front door.

  Given the lights on inside, I rang the bell. Better safe than sorry. A shadow darkened the window. The bubbled glass distorted the figure making it impossible to see who was behind the door. I shifted the heavy box in my hands and waited.

  Elias stood in front of me barefoot, dressed in blue jeans and a snug-fitting gray T-shirt. Bright lights from the tree danced across the walls and ceiling, and the sizzle and pop of burning logs from the fireplace reached out to me, beckoning me toward its cozy warmth. What the hell? He looked perfect standing where he didn’t belong, but what on earth did he think he was doing?

  “What the hell are you doing in the house?” The box in my hands dropped to the floor along with my jaw. “You can’t enter the house without me. That’s unprofessional. I’m going to have to report you to your boss.”

  “Cici, let me explain.” He rocked between his bare feet.

  “You’re fired.” I slipped my boots off because melted snow and hardwood floors didn’t mix well. “You can’t go into people’s houses and make yourself comfortable.” Picking up the box of evergreens, I pushed my way past him and walked toward the fireplace where I placed the box on the floor. When I glanced around the room everything appeared to be in order.

  Thank God he hadn’t emptied the house in my absence.

  “Cici,” he said, almost pleading. I had to give him credit for being persistent and brave.

  “No, you have to go.” Burning rage coiled within me. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. You took advantage of our client. You took advantage of me. Now you’re unemployed. Hit the road.” This was my first chance to make a name for myself, and I wasn’t going to let a temp ruin my reputation. “Out.” My pitch hit high altitude. If he didn’t start moving soon, I was going to drag him by the ear and toss him out the door, bare feet notwithstanding.

  When he began to laugh, I began to shake. What did I get myself into hiring this man? He was missing a cog in his brain.

  “Cici. We have to clear the air.” He made his way into the great room and sank into the leather sofa like he owned it.

  “Don’t get comfortable.” The tone of my voice had fallen to a normal level. I was obviously speaking with a deranged man and the appearance of calm was necessary. “If I have to, I’ll call the police.” I spoke in a slow and steady stream, which was in direct conflict with my pounding heart. Doom da da doom da da doom beat against my rib cage like a percussionist banging the bass drum.

  “Cici, I’m Elias Cole. I own the house.” The words raced from his mouth like a downhill skier trying to qualify for a run.

  Doom da da doom da da doom rose from my chest and beat in my head until I was dizzy from the sound.

  “Wait . . . What?” Holy shit. I pushed that man like a slave master yesterday. I said things to him I would’ve never said to a client. “You lied to me.” I choked out the words and tried to swallow the excess saliva that threatened to choke me.

  “I did no such thing.” His voice played at full volume. “You decided on your own who I was, and I opted not to correct you.”

  If I weren’t so shocked I’d have been angry.

  “Why would you do that? You stayed under false pretenses and allowed me to believe you were someone you weren’t.” My perfect job was disintegrating before my eyes. “In my book that’s lying.”

  “It wasn’t my intention to lead you astray. You looked like you needed help.”

  “I thought you were the help. If I had known—”

  “You would have behaved differently. I liked that you were open and honest. Would you have been that way if you knew who I was?”

  He had a point. I would have told him to do what I was going to tell him now.

  “You have to leave. You can’t be here while I work.” I snapped the lid of the box open and began spreading the pine garland on the floor.

  “That’s bullshit. I was here all day yesterday while you worked, and it turned out fine. I’m staying.” He crossed his arms over his chest and sank deeper into the cognac-colo
red cushions.

  Even angry with him, I couldn’t deny how cute he was. Damn man.

  “You’re a distraction, and I have a job to do.” He’d been a distraction yesterday. Today he’d be a complete roadblock. He and his perfectly shaped bare feet needed to move along.

  He kicked his feet up on the coffee table. It had to be his way of telling me he wasn’t budging. I would have pushed the issue, but the snow was falling hard, and I didn’t have the heart to send him into the cold. If only he wasn’t tall, dark, and gorgeous. That would make ignoring a whole lot easier.

  Boots on. Boots off. I made several trips between the house and trailer. All the while Elias watched my every move.

  “I could help you today.” His voice sounded hopeful.

  “I’ve got it.” I pulled at the red ribbon, trying to get it to behave. “You’re paying me to decorate your house, and I intend to do it by myself.” Once I beat the bow into submission, I tacked it onto the garland. “My company is called Craig Design, not Craig and Cole Design. Thanks for the offer though.”

  Shit, I owed him a paycheck. I would have paid the temp fifteen dollars an hour. I’d bring him a check tomorrow.

  He sat on the couch and watched while I wove pine bows into thick plush ropes and decorated them with red ribbons, pine cones, and Christmas bulbs. I layered row upon row on the mantel. The bulbs and bows I tied to the greenery brought life to the arrangement. The heat from the fireplace released the scent of the cinnamon sticks I had tucked throughout.

  Most of the time Elias appeared to be lost in thought while he stared at the fireplace. After an hour or so, he shifted and stood. Thank God he was finally leaving. He only made it a few steps before turning back.

  “I’m making cheese omelets. Care to join me?” He spun and walked toward what had to be the kitchen. “I think I owe you,” he said over his shoulder.

  “I’d love an omelet. Just eggs and cheese, right?” I couldn’t be mad at a man who wanted to feed me, and I liked eggs and cheese. Besides, I had to get a good look at the kitchen so I could pretty it up tomorrow.

  I followed him into a kitchen. Wow. A kitchen designed for a chef; this one had double ovens, a Wolf gas range, and a Sub-Zero refrigerator. Sleek granite countertops and marble floors. Simply wow.

  “Yep, just eggs and cheese. Eggs are about the only thing I can cook.” He slid out a stool from the island and patted the granite counter in front of it. My cue to sit.

  “What do you do for a living, Mr. Cole?” He moved comfortably around the kitchen. It was hard getting used to the idea that he owned the place. No wonder he seemed at home yesterday.

  “Call me Elias.” He pulled a bottle of orange juice from the refrigerator and poured two glasses. It was well after noon, and here we were eating breakfast. “We don’t have to move backward just because our roles have changed.”

  “Well, Elias, what’s your line of work?” He didn’t seem old enough to own this house. I’d guess he was in his mid-thirties. Maybe he came from money.

  “Real estate. I buy and sell property. I’ve done pretty well.” He stood tall when he spoke. He was obviously proud of his accomplishments and who wouldn’t be? This house was a gold mine.

  “You live here in Aspen?” I sipped my orange juice. It was the high-pulp variety I loved.

  “Not full time.” He broke the eggs one at a time and let them fall into a bowl he had set on the counter. “I have a house in the Cherry Creek area of Denver, but I’ve been thinking of moving here permanently.” With steady turns of his wrist, he whipped the eggs with precision. “I’m not sure there’s enough property to keep me busy. Besides, the competition is tough.”

  “I understand about competition. I’ve been here since early summer. Originally, I wanted to work at an existing firm, but no one would give me a chance, so I created my own opportunity by opening Craig Design.”

  “This is a tough community. I was an outsider for many years, but that all changed when I joined the country club.” The mixture sizzled when poured it into the heated pan.

  “Don’t tell me that. I could never afford the country club.” I couldn’t afford to spring for a fitness club. A country club was way out of my reach. “How does someone like me get her foot in the door?”

  “Word of mouth. You’re doing an excellent job. I’ll pass the word around.” He put three kinds of cheese into the center of the omelet.

  I loved cheese, and three was like hitting a trifecta.

  “Thanks. Maybe I’ll get some additional Christmas work next year, but I have to figure out something before then.” I rose from the table and walked to where he stood.

  “Have you considered staging homes? It’s a huge thing here.” He poked at the air bubbles that had risen on the eggs before he flipped the pan and the mixture folded in half into the perfect omelet. “Above your head are the plates, can you grab two?”

  White plates were stacked ten high in front of me. Square plates. Not mainstream, but I liked them. It said he was a risk-taker not a conformist.

  “No, I’ve never staged a house for sale, but I’ve decorated plenty of homes for clients. It couldn’t be that tough.” Did I have what it takes to do that?

  He slid the omelet onto the plate and handed it to me along with a mountain-themed fork. The handle was shaped like a branch. Too cute.

  “Don’t underestimate the skill it takes. You have to make a home look neutral but appeal to a wide range of buyers. That’s not easy.” While we were talking, he had poured the remaining eggs into the pan and whipped together a second omelet. “There’s good money to be made in Aspen if you can breach the market. If you’re interested, I’ll introduce you around. Hell, I have a house listing in January that will need staging. Let me know.” He slid his omelet onto a plate and sat by my side while we devoured our delicious brunch.

  “I appreciate the advice.” I’d become whatever I had to become in order to make ends meet. “I’ll look into it and let you know.” Real estate sales weren’t necessarily in my lane, but I’d drive there if it meant food on the table and a roof over my head. I had to make this work. There was no going back.

  “What brought you to Colorado?”

  My normal answer would have been I needed a change of pace, which wasn’t entirely untrue. I did need a change of pace, but what I needed most was distance. “I wanted to leave Los Angeles. New York was too far away so I picked a place in between.” That was the truth or at least most of the truth. “When I decided to relocate, I looked at the map and picked someplace in the middle of the country. That someplace was Nebraska, but I couldn’t bring myself to live in a state that was flat and had an entire population smaller than the city I had lived in.”

  “Why leave Los Angeles? Wasn’t it the perfect place to be an interior designer?” He drew a bite of omelet to his lips, a melted wisp of cheese hung from the corner of his mouth. His tongue dipped out to grab it, and my heart began to race.

  “The normal reasons: bad breakup and a job loss. Both on the same day.” That summed it up. Quickly. Honestly

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have pressed.” While he stared forward sipping his juice, I stared at him. He was one of those men who would remain forever young—evergreen. His eyes were Caribbean blue with specks of brown near the center. The exact color of the granite I had installed in the last California home I decorated.

  Sitting here and staring at him, although pleasant, seemed wrong. He wasn’t available, and I wasn’t interested. But I was curious, and he was too sexy for me to completely ignore.

  “Tell me about your girlfriend.” Well, shit, my mouth opened before my brain could stop me.

  “Not much to tell. We’ve been dating for a couple months. She’s busy in her job, I’m busy in mine, and we seem to meet in the middle.”

  He gave no details about his girlfriend, which made me curious about the kind of woman he’d pick. “Well, I hope she likes the decorations.” I lifted up our empty plates and walked them to the sink.


  Elias remained in the kitchen while I went to work on the banisters. About an hour into my work, I heard yelling. I hoped I was never on the receiving end of that tone. That anger.

  “What the hell do you mean you’re not coming for Christmas?” His pitch rose until I was certain the volume could have started an avalanche.

  Silence.

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it. I took the whole week off to be with you and my parents.”

  Silence.

  I shouldn’t have stood there and listened, but I couldn’t move. There was something in his voice that kept me glued in place. He was angry, but he sounded hurt, and I was a sucker for hurt.

  “So you’re spending the holiday with him? How long has it been going on? I see. No. I don’t share. I need to be with someone who values me and what I have to offer.”

  Silence.

  “No, you’re not that person. What? It was never about sex. Hell, I could count the times we’ve had sex on one hand.”

  He turned around and saw me staring. Pain was etched into his face. In less than an hour, he seemed to have aged several years. “Sorry.” It was all I could say after I’d been caught eavesdropping. I spun around and took off toward the stairs.

  I worked for hours and only saw Elias once after the fight. He entered what I assumed was his office but never came out. I felt sorry for the man. I knew what it was like to be dumped. That conversation was reminiscent of the one I’d had with Ryan. My heart ached for Elias. Breakups were hard, but when the other person was unfaithful, the breakup seemed nearly unbearable. Was the girl stupid? Elias was perfection. Well, from the short time I’ve known him anyway. He’s funny, generous, kind, and obviously a hard worker. He didn’t flinch when I told him what to do yesterday. And, let’s not forget, easy on the eyes.