Cole For Christmas Page 3

  I looped fresh garland between the rungs of the banister and tied bows and pine cones to liven up the look. I finished the day with the wreaths I’d hung above the fireplace mantel and the front door. Uncomfortable leaving without saying goodbye, I tapped lightly on the office door.

  “Come in.” He sat in a black leather chair behind a rosewood desk. Papers were placed in neat piles across the top. Everything appeared in order except his life. The light in his eyes had dimmed, giving him a look of a tired and worn-out man.

  “I just wanted to tell you I’m leaving for the day. I’ll be back to finish tomorrow. If you have a chance to look over my work I’d appreciate it. I want to make sure you’re satisfied with what I’ve done thus far.”

  “Cici, so far everything has been great. My family will love it.” He pushed back from the chair and rose from his seat. His feet were still bare. That was a benefit of under-floor heating. At my place, I’d have had ten toesicles.

  “But I want you to fall in love.” His eyes widened at my remark. It was the right sentiment, but the wrong words given he’d just had a falling out with who I believed to be his girlfriend.

  It was reassuring to know his family would love it, but I was more concerned with him than anyone else. I would have liked to say it was because he was the client, but truthfully, I liked him. Given his present circumstances, I wanted something to bring joy to his life. Too bad he was such a tough sell when it came to the holidays.

  “It’s fine.” He led me to the front door and all but pushed me forward. When it closed behind me, I was hell-bent on making sure by the time I finished tomorrow, things would go from it’s fine to it’s fabulous.

  Chapter 3

  Being late was not in my plan, but given the circumstances at the Cole house, I wanted to give Elias a little extra. I’d purchased the planned items then picked up some fun holiday treats I hoped he would enjoy, and those extra stops put me behind schedule. In the backseat was a gift. I couldn’t leave him a sixteen-foot tree without a gift beneath it. It was a silly gift only he would understand, and the beautiful wrap job was worth more than the contents.

  When he came to the door, he was dressed in a suit and tie and looked commanding. Gone was the vulnerability of yesterday. This man had dressed to impress. To conquer the day.

  “Wow. Look at you. All dressed up and someplace to go.” I walked past him and headed straight for the kitchen. He trailed behind me.

  “I’m closing on a house today. Kind of a Christmas bonus.” He picked up his juice glass from the counter and rinsed it out. I loved a man who could take care of himself.

  “Speaking of Christmas bonuses . . . Even though you were working under false pretenses,” I looked at him with a don’t-argue-with-me look—the one that kept most people’s mouths shut—“I brought you a check for your hours. I’m sure it’s a pittance compared to what you normally make, but I’m an honest businesswoman, and I wouldn’t feel right about you working without pay.” I put the folded check into his front breast pocket and gave it a pat.

  “I’m not taking your money. Working with you was fun.” He tried to remove the check, but I gave him my look and added a snarl. He laughed and stepped back.

  “Will I see you before I finish today?” I hoped he would say yes, but I could see in his eyes it was doubtful. It didn’t matter. I’d leave my little treats and hope he finds some joy in them.

  “Probably not, but you never know. Thanks so much, Cici. Just send me the bill, and I’ll pay it immediately. My family arrives the day after tomorrow so this worked out perfectly.” He stood awkwardly before me. At first, he opened his arms like he would hug me, and then he leaned in like he was going to give me a peck on the cheek. In the end, he offered me a disappointing handshake.

  I grabbed his hand and pulled him into my arms. It wasn’t a passionate hug. Just the type of hug you gave a friend when they needed one. When he stood back, his neck had turned red and his cheeks pink. So, Mr. Cole was shy. I wouldn’t have thought that given his success.

  He started for the door but turned back toward me like he was going to say something. He paused for a long breath, shook his head, and turned toward the door again. His suit looked as impressive from the backside as it did from the front. There was something about a navy blue pinstripe suit that did it for me.

  The throaty growl of his car had me running to the front door to watch him pull away. I’d have never taken him for a Range Rover type, but the black SUV looked sexy wrapped around him.

  See you later, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Delicious. Thanks for my Christmas treat.

  Today was all about accessorizing and sprucing up what I’d done before. I filled three glass apothecary jars with edibles. One was stuffed with mini candy canes, one with chocolate Santas, and the third with Christmas gummy trees. The jars were decorative yet functional. Maybe Elias would see the point of these.

  I set other little treats around the house. A bowl of pretty wrapped truffles decorated the end table by the window. A red candle embossed with gold filigree and pine needles was centered on the coffee table. When it came to the porch, two four-foot pine topiaries flanked the front door. With their twinkling lights, it would be warm and inviting at night.

  Just above the front door, I hung mistletoe. What was Christmas without mistletoe and kisses? It was depressing to think this would be my first year in a while without a kiss or hug.

  It was just about time for me to leave, and I’d almost forgotten his gift. I raced to my SUV and pulled the box from the backseat. Looking at the decorations with fresh eyes when I entered the house, it could have been right out of a magazine. I felt proud. The only thing missing was a mountain of presents under the tree. I slipped my silly gift beneath the pine boughs and walked to the kitchen.

  He needed to get into the spirit of things, especially if his family was coming soon, so my challenge sat front and center for Elias. There were four days until Christmas, and he needed to get in touch with his inner Kris Kringle. I had purchased a gingerbread man kit and had hoped to persuade him to give it a try. I hoped he saw the fun in my note and wasn’t offended.

  Dear Mr. Scrooge,

  It’s time you embraced the season. It’s almost Christmas, and I’m here to remind you to find the love and joy this holiday has to offer. Enjoy your family and enjoy your decorated home. Thanks for allowing me the opportunity to work for you. Please don’t hesitate to call should you need additional assistance. This poor gingerbread man needs some clothes. Do your best!

  Cici

  Tonight I would celebrate. I walked out of his house feeling accomplished. Whole Foods was calling me. Eggplant parmigiana for dinner and ambrosia cake for dessert would be my treat for a job well done.

  I sat in front of the TV with my microwaved eggplant and watched the old classic Miracle on 34th Street. I believed in miracles. I didn’t think there was an old guy named Kris Kringle waiting to buy me a house, but I believed the holidays were magical.

  Sadly, I didn’t have the money to travel home to California, and my parents didn’t fly. My dad said if God wanted him to fly He would have given me wings. I used to come back at him with if God wanted you to drive He would have given you tires. It never worked.

  Nope, this holiday would be spent with my goldfish, Jax, and my remote control. In the corner of my living room stood my Charlie Brown tree.

  I’d found the saddest looking tree on the lot and brought it home. The guy running the tree farm tried to give it to me for free, but I handed him a ten and told him everything had value. It didn’t have the elaborate decorations of Elias’s tree, but I was able to turn a few sad twigs into a proud symbol of the season.

  Snuggled into the cushions of my couch and tucked up under the afghan my mother had crocheted for me last Christmas, I watched the television intently as thousands of letters were dumped on the judge’s desk. I’d seen this movie no less than thirty times, and I was still captivated.

  “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” r
ang in the background. I raced to the kitchen, trying to reach my phone before the fairy was silenced.

  “Hello.” Breathless, I sucked in air until my lungs were full. When would I get used to the high altitude and thin air?

  “Hey, Cici, it’s Elias.” His voice was like aged cognac on a cold day. It warmed you from the inside out.

  A thousand things ran through my head in an instant. Was he happy? Was he disappointed? Did he decorate his gingerbread man?

  “Hi, what’s up?” I attempted to sound nonchalant. Unfazed.

  “I read your note, and I’m taking you up on your offer. I’m at a disadvantage. I need help Christmas shopping. Becca and I were supposed to go together tomorrow.” Dead silence filled the space. Cue the crickets. “Well, you know what happened there. Can I hire you to go shopping for me? I’ve never been good at picking out women’s gifts, and I’d like to get my mom something better than a gift card and a candle. When it comes to my sis, I’m at a complete loss.”

  There was desperation in his voice. He had his house decorated for his family, and he wanted their holiday to be perfect. That would require heartfelt gifts. Of course, I would help him, but I wouldn’t do it for him. I didn’t know his mother or his sister and wasn’t qualified to go that course alone. There were some things women loved universally, like jewelry, but he would need to come along in order to get the perfect gift.

  “Absolutely. I’m happy to help, but you have to come along and give me insight into who your family is and what they like.”

  There was a lengthy pause. “Okay, that makes sense.”

  “When do you want me to be at your house?” We would need to start early. The stores would be crowded and the traffic horrendous. Last-minute shoppers always drove me crazy.

  “I’ll pick you up at nine.” I could hear the relief in his voice. “We can grab breakfast out. My treat.” He almost sounded excited. I gave him my address and told him I’d be ready when he arrived.

  When Elias pulled up, I was waiting outside. The snow sparkled like diamonds under the morning sun. Dressed in black slacks and a royal blue blouse, I stepped gingerly across the icy walkway, not wanting to ass-plant myself with a wrong step. The last thing I needed was an injury and a cold ass.

  By the time I got to his SUV, he was standing next to it with the door open. Manners weren’t something every man possessed. Many men thought an independent woman wanted to do everything herself. I still wanted to feel like a woman when I was with a man, so I appreciated the gesture. Feeling cared for, respected, and valued were three important things to me.

  “Thank you.” I slid into the heated passenger seat and buckled up while he rounded the vehicle. How sweet that he warmed my seat.

  “First breakfast, then shopping. I’ve heard you shouldn’t shop on an empty stomach.” He put the car in gear and we were off.

  “I think that saying is for food shopping, but it’s a good idea to be well fed. I’d hate for your inner Scrooge to take over while we shop for your family.” I reached over and tapped him on the arm. Today he was dressed casually. Khakis and a polo shirt. “How did the closing go?”

  He looked surprised as if it was odd for someone to ask. Was it rude to ask?

  “Smooth. I’m a stickler for efficiency, so I always get there early to make sure everything is in order.” He pulled into the parking lot of this little dive called Sage. “Thanks for asking.” Was that a hint of a smile I saw? Mr. Grumpy could be swayed toward the light side. Nice to know.

  “Efficiency is important. Time is money, or in my case, saving time gives me more time. I hope to turn that time into money.” We stepped out of the car and walked into a restaurant that could only be considered a hole in the wall. Definitely a mom and pop shop that catered to a wide range of appetites.

  We walked into the quaint café. Its checkerboard floor was worn from years of foot traffic, and pictures of colorful roosters decorated every wall. It felt homey and warm, like my grandma’s kitchen. The hostess greeted us with a wide smile.

  “Elias and Cici, it’s good to see you. I didn’t know you two were friends.” Elias and I looked at each other with surprise. Mary pulled two menus from the slot next to the register and walked us to the faded booth in front of the window.

  “Hey, Mary. Elias and I have been working together.” I took the offered menus from her hand and gave one to Elias.

  “Do you both want your usual drink?” We nodded in unison.

  “It’s a small world,” he said, his voice filled with humor. “We have probably dined here together and never noticed.”

  I would have liked to argue with him over that assumption. I’d have noticed him for sure. Tall, dark, and dashing was hard to overlook.

  Mary approached with a soft smile gracing her face. Two teapots of water and two packets of Earl Grey were placed on the table in the center before she left. Elias and I sat still staring at the tea. What were the odds?

  “Sugar or honey?” I waited for his answer before I reached for the honey.

  “Honey.” He grabbed the honeypot from the window ledge and swirled the dipper around. Holding it above his cup he let the honey drip in beautiful amber ribbons into his cup. “Can I?” He reloaded the dipper and readied himself to serve me.

  “Of course.” His long fingers rotated the stick over my cup and delivered the perfect amount of sweetness. Who was this man?

  Mary approached and asked for our order. I tended to order the same thing every time. Cheese omelet with artichoke hearts and mushrooms. Elias ordered an omelet called The Works. I assumed it had everything a cook could put into an omelet.

  “So how long can I keep you?” He sipped his hot tea with care.

  I wanted to shout forever, but that would have been too weird. Besides, I wasn’t sure he would get the joke. The real problem was, I wasn’t positive I’d be joking.

  I glanced outside. “I’m free the whole day.” The shops were opening. People were milling about. Things were springing to life. “Where are we shopping?”

  “I thought we could start here, but if we can’t find what we need we could trek to Denver.”

  “That’s a far drive for Christmas presents.” Being stuck in the car would have been awful. Being stuck for hours with Elias . . . not so bad.

  “Now who’s sounding like Scrooge?”

  “Just trying to be efficient.”

  “I love that you tried.”

  “I do what I can.” I loved the flash repartee. It was light and airy, a side I hadn’t seen of him, but one I liked.

  “First we have to settle the work thing. This is a job, therefore you have to get paid. Would five hundred be fair?” He played with his silverware, reorganizing it from left to right and back again.

  “I’m not charging you to shop. I didn’t have anything going on anyway, and I love the holidays. This will be fun for me.” Seeing Mary approach with our meals, I promptly placed my napkin in my lap.

  “Nope, I got paid when I worked with you. I’m paying you.” He pulled his napkin off the table and put it in his lap just as Mary delivered his omelet. It looked like an egg-coated football. I was going to enjoy watching him eat that monstrosity.

  “Oh, please. I thought I was hiring a temp. I paid you a pittance compared to what you’re offering to pay me.”

  “I was hired for my brawn, I’m hiring you for your brain. Infinitely more valuable.” He cut into his omelet, and I swear an entire farm was hiding in there. I could see ham and sausage, and every type of veggie known to man. “No negotiations.”

  With that said, I nodded and cut into my breakfast. It was perfect, like always. “So, tell me about your mom.”

  “She’s like all moms. She’s sweet and attentive and naggy and nosy.” He smiled at me like he had divulged a plethora of usable information. I got nothing of value out of his description. At least nothing that would give me gift ideas.

  “You gave me zilch. Give me examples. Is she like June Cleaver from Leave It to Beaver
or is she Evelyn Harper from Two and a Half Men?” His face contorted. His lips pulled to the side, and his eyes turned skyward as if the answer would come from above. I could almost see him trying the characters on his mother like a piece of clothing.

  “Do I only get those two choices?” He looked scared. I wasn’t asking him to pick between heaven and hell. I needed a hint.

  “No, but give me something. If you have an example, I’d love that.”

  He ate his food slowly and sipped his tea. I knew the minute he came up with something because he looked like a lotto player whose sixth number had been called.

  “She’s a mix between Clair Huxtable from The Cosby Show and Claire Dunphy from Modern Family. She has the sass and sex appeal of the first and the no-nonsense attitude of the second.” He sat back in the booth looking relieved like he’d cut the red wire from an active bomb.

  “Okay, I’m getting a feel for her. How old is she?” My guess would have been somewhere between fifty-five and sixty-five.

  “She’s fifty-two.”

  “How old are you?” I knew it came out sounding wrong, accusatory even, but if his mom was fifty-two, then he had to be younger than I initially thought.

  “I’m thirty-two. My mom swears it wasn’t a shotgun wedding, and since my parents have been married for close to thirty-three years, I suppose I have to believe her.”

  To my astonishment, while we were chatting, he gorged down half of his meal. I couldn’t, in all honesty, call it an omelet. Omelets conjured visions of fluffy eggs filled lightly with ingredients that tickled your palate. What he was eating was an assault on his mouth and stomach.

  “That’s impressive. Thirty-two, a house in Aspen, and one in a posh Denver suburb. How did you do that?” I waited for him to say trust fund or something crazier like lotto win.

  “Sacrifice and hard work,” he said matter-of-factly. Like all hard work leads to Aspen houses and untold riches. I’d worked my ass off, and all I had was an apartment and a savings account with next month’s rent.