The 6'1" Grinch (6 page)

“She pimped Santa at the mall into making us kiss as one of her wishes. For some reason she thought it would make me not sell my house to Noel.”

“When did you decide to sell your house to Noel— did I miss a meeting?” Sarah asked, reaching for a bottle of top coat for her nails.

“I didn't. I'm not. But Noel isn't listening to me. He's got it into his head that he wants to buy it. He's positively fixated on the idea. I'm trying desperately to talk him out of it, to find the perfect house for him.”

“But you aren't having any luck …”

“None.”

“Hmm. So how does he kiss? You've completely avoided that—don't think I haven't noticed.”

“Like he's done it before.”

“Smooth, huh?”

“And sweet.”

“Sweet—now, that's something new. Sweet, huh?”

“Don't go making anything out of it. He was on the spot. It's not like it was his idea. Or mine,” she added, seeing the speculative look in Sarah's eyes.

“Then maybe Elena's smarter than you. He's pretty hunky, Hollie.” Sarah put the applicator back in the bottle and studied her manicure.

“Elena's smarter than you and I put together, Sarah. But I'm still not taking dating advice from a four-year-old. Besides, Santa's bringing me a beau for Christmas. All I have to do is get rid of Noel first.”

“So sell him your house.”

That was the practical answer, Hollie knew.

But she couldn't sell Noel her house. She just couldn't.

There had to be a house out there with his name on it. She just hadn't found it yet. Maybe in the morning when she was fresh …

“Did Elena tell you she asked Santa to bring you a boyfriend?” Hollie inquired, changing the subject, as they waited for their nails to dry so they could carry Elena in to bed.

“So that's where he came from—”

“What? You've met someone. You've been holding out on me.” Hollie settled back into the sofa, tucking her feet up beneath her.

“He's a fireman and really sweet. He came out this morning to rescue the kitten next door that got stuck up in a tree. He was really good with the kitten and the neighborhood kids. But I think he might be a bit young for me.”

“How old is he?”

“I don't know for sure. I think late twenties, maybe.”

“Old enough to vote,” Hollie said, throwing a pillow at Sarah.

“You're bad.”

“Moi?”
The women collapsed in girlish giggles that woke up Elena.

“Is Santa here yet?” the child asked, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

“Not yet, sugarpie. You've still got a few days yet to wait for Santa to visit. Christmas isn't until Wednesday. Go back to sleep.”

As Hollie lifted the child into her arms, Elena's eyes drifted closed again. Hollie walked with Sarah back to Elena's bedroom, where the two women tucked her in with kisses of good-night and sweet dreams.

“So, what's the fireman's name?” Hollie asked as they left the sleeping child and went back to watching the news, mainly interested in whether there would be more snow for Christmas.

“Rick Winzen.”

“So are you going to see him?” Hollie persisted.

“He hasn't asked me out, if that's what you mean.”

Hollie laughed. “Since when has that stopped you? So you ask him out.”

“I think I might scare him off if I did.”

Hollie looked more closely at her friend. Sarah was thirty-five, but appeared ten years younger. Sarah usually went after what she wanted, and usually got it. This hesitancy was new for her friend. There was almost a shyness in Sarah's demeanor.

“He's special, isn't he? You like this Rick Winzen a lot, don't you?”

“Maybe.”

“I know, why don't you go see Ms. Claudia and ask her about Rick?”

“Really, Hollie. I've got a schedule that would panic Santa's elves from now to Christmas. Tomorrow I have to spend the whole day making a sit-down dinner for twenty-four to be delivered by seven o'clock. I don't have time for a visit to your favorite psychic. Besides, I'm sure Rick isn't interested in me. He's just a nice guy being polite.”

Sarah's disclaimer held a wistful note.

“I think—” Hollie's thought was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

“Who could that be?” Sarah said, glancing at the time on the VCR. “It's after ten o'clock.”

Since Hollie was nearest the phone, she picked it up. “Just a minute, she's here,” she told the caller, and tossed the portable phone to Sarah.

Sarah caught the phone, her eyes questioning.

Hollie silently mouthed the words “It's him.”

“Hello …” Sarah said shyly. “Hello, Rick,” she added after the caller identified himself.

“Look, I may be being presumptuous here, Sarah, but I didn't see a wedding ring, so I thought maybe there wasn't a Mr. Smith and I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go out tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow night? You want to go out tomorrow night?” Sarah grinned from ear to ear at Hollie, who encouraged her by nodding.

“No, not tomorrow night. I have an obligation for tomorrow night I can't get out of. I thought maybe you and Elena would like to have lunch and then go see the
Nutcracker
ballet. My sister can get us tickets.”

“Could you hold on a second, Rick.” Sarah clutched the phone to her chest so he couldn't hear her. “Hollie, he wants to take Elena and me to see the
Nutcracker
tomorrow!”

“So say yes.”

“But I can't. I've got all that food to make for the dinner I'm catering tomorrow night.”

“You two go. I'll make the food.”

“But what about Noel?”

“I can handle Noel—don't you worry. You need a treat. So go. I'll handle making the food. And then you'll owe me big-time.”

Sarah looked uncertain about Hollie's generous offer.

Hollie insisted.

“Rick, we'd love to go,” Sarah finally said into the phone she'd returned to her ear. “What time?”

“Let's get an early start. I'll pick you up at eleven.”

Sarah pushed the button to disconnect, tossed the phone to Hollie and let out a shriek. “He likes me!”

“Of course he likes you. And now I'm going home. I need a good night's sleep if I'm going to play Martha Stewart tomorrow.”

“Oh, Hollie, are you sure about this?”

“Let me go before I come to my senses,” Hollie teased, pulling on her coat.

“But what about Noel?”

“I'll tell him I had a little emergency and he'll adjust.”

“But it's not going to endear you to him.”

“Sarah, I don't think you can endear yourself to a grinch.”

“Maybe he's not really such a grinch.”

“Goodbye, Sarah.”

“Bye.”

Hollie hurried to her car, not wanting to remember that Noel certainly hadn't kissed like a grinch.

N
OEL SAT ON THE BED
in his room with the newspaper spread out around him. He was studying his competition. The papers were full of holiday ads and he could glean which store carried what merchandise and where each store focused their advertising for their market share.

He'd tried to distract himself at first with the television, but it was full of holiday specials, everything from old Bing Crosby repeats to a country gala. And the commercials were worse.

The newspaper ads were equally festive, but he could at least detach himself enough to study them with an eye to business.

But even the ads didn't hold his attention for very long. Soon his thoughts were back to the problem at hand.

He couldn't understand why Hollie was being so stubborn about selling him her house. She had even rejected his offer to pay her moving costs … rejected his second offer that was more than the fair market price.

How could anyone be such a bad businesswoman?

She needed the money to buy a new car; even he could see that.

He was beginning to think her refusal was personal. He had the fanciful thought that she didn't want him living in her house. And he didn't ever have fanciful thoughts.

But what else could he think when she continued to refuse to sell her house to him?

Maybe what he needed to do was mount a campaign to make her like him better. Perhaps then she'd feel okay about selling him her house. He never would have thought he'd have to pass muster to buy something.

It was worth a try. Otherwise, he had the sinking feeling that he was going to be stuck in the States for the entire holiday season.

What, he wondered, would make Hollie approve of him buying her house?

He began drawing up a list of possibilities.

Having a plan made him confident that in a day or so he'd be relaxing in the islands, with a house to return to in the new year.

Meanwhile, back at the North Pole …

S
ANTA SAT AT HIS
computer playing a game, one he'd invented with reindeer navigating an obstacle course. He'd been playing half the night.

His thumb was getting numb.

The mindless activity was his way of escaping the stress of having a missing wife.

He was going to have to get his act together and take it on the road soon or a lot of little boys and girls were going to vote the Easter bunny top good guy.

December 21

H
OLLIE HAD HOPED
she'd have a day without Noel.

Just her luck, when she'd called to cancel looking at houses with him, he'd suggested he come over to Sarah's to help her so she would be done in half the time and there would still be a few hours for them to find a house for
her.
Like a tenacious dog with a bone, he wasn't giving up. He really believed he could convince her to sell him her place.

She saw his car pull up in Sarah's driveway as she began making an assembly line on the counter to put together the rolled breakfast steaks called rouladen. He was probably going to slow her down, since she imagined his primary contact with food had been in restaurants. She noted his car had been restored to its classic elegant line—all traces of the fender bender vanished. Her insurance had covered it.

He was as elegant as his car. Even casually dressed in slacks and a blue sweater beneath his bomber jacket, he appeared sleek and powerfully sexy.

Midnight set up a racket when she heard the doorbell, but went back to her usual spot by the picture window watching the birds at the feeder when Hollie shooed her away.

When Noel entered the house, he began to walk in the direction of the kitchen. “The TV is in there, if you recall,” Hollie said, pointing to the living room.

“But I came to help,” Noel insisted.

“I thought you were kidding.”

He just stared at her. “I never kid.”

“I should know that by now. What must I have been thinking? Okay, hang your jacket in the closet, push up your sleeves and I'll put you to work.”

Why hadn't she said no from the start? Hollie chastised herself. She hadn't liked how much she'd liked seeing him. Was used to seeing him every day. It occurred to her that she was going to miss him when he left…if he ever did. She had never had a client quite like him. And she had never gotten so involved with one.

“What do you want me to do?”

Noel's words filtered into her musing and she caught herself before she said,
Kiss me again the way you did at the mall.
What was wrong with her?

“Do the bacon strips in the microwave,” she ordered. “I'll get the other ingredients ready while you're doing that.”

Hollie took off her stack rings and laid them on the countertop out of the way. She focused on the task at hand, deliberately ignoring how good Noel smelled, and how disturbing and unnerving having him so close by was.

She got out the Italian bread crumbs and the Italian salad dressing and put both into deep bowls. She added a large package of shredded cheese to another bowl and then began shredding a dozen carrots.

When Noel had the bacon crisped, she showed him how to make the rouladens; demonstrating with one breakfast steak, she dipped it first in the Italian salad dressing, then in the Italian bread crumbs. Next she placed a piece of crisp bacon in the middle of the steak and added the shredded cheese and grated carrots by the heaping tablespoon. The finishing touch was rolling the stuffed strips up, jelly-roll fashion, and securing them with three toothpicks per rouladen.

“If you assemble the rouladens, I'll make a big pan of gravy to bake them in. Think you can manage—and aren't you sorry you offered to help?”

“I can manage,” he assured her.

They worked in companionable silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

He finally interrupted her with a question.

“So how did you get into real estate?”

“I've always loved houses and I guess I just sort of drifted into it,” Hollie answered, stirring the gravy continuously.

“It seems like a pretty tough way to make a living,” he observed. “Don't you have to take a lot of grief from customers?”

“You may have noticed an agent learns to let the customer's frustration slide off—most of the time. It's tenacity that gets the sale. You have to be prepared to make sales calls and follow-up calls or face losing potential customers to another agent.”

He was quiet for a moment, as he absorbed her answer.

“Why? Are you thinking of taking it up?” Hollie asked, turning up the gas flame beneath the pan of gravy.

“Not a chance. I don't enjoy working with the public.”

“Good choice, because you'd kill your clients when they changed their minds for the thirty-eighth time.”

“Is that a dig?”

“No, you've made up your mind. I'm working on changing it.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“Me?” She frowned.

“Yes, you. I'm offering you more money than your house is worth.”

“You can't put a monetary value on some things. But I guess when you come from a wealthy background the way you do you wouldn't know that.”

UPS drove up at that moment, and the deliveryman ran up the walk and rang the doorbell. Midnight began barking and Hollie dropped the spoon she was stirring the gravy with into the pan of hot liquid. She swore beneath her breath, momentarily flustered.

“I'll get the door,” Noel offered, washing off his hands and grabbing a towel as he headed for the front door. “You deal with the dog.”

Midnight escaped Hollie's lunge and raced out the door between Noel's legs when Noel opened the door.

“Midnight!” Hollie yelled after the fleeing dog.

The dog had a taste of freedom and was scampering away across the muddy lawn as fast as its little feet would go. The ever changing St. Louis weather had turned warmer, melting the snow that had previously fallen.

“You sign for the package and I'll go get the dog,” Noel ordered, taking charge.

“But—”

“I don't know what to do in the kitchen without you,” Noel rationalized. “It shouldn't take me long to retrieve Midnight. She's just a little bit of a thing.”

As Noel took off after Midnight, Hollie didn't have the heart to tell him that he'd met his match, little bitty or not.

“Ma'am?” The deliveryman was in a hurry. The preholiday schedule had him swinging double shifts.

Hollie signed for the package for Sarah and went back to the kitchen. She had mounds of spuds to peel for the mashed potatoes to go with the rouladens. Trust a man to disappear when the drudgery part of cooking arrived.

“D
AMN IT
,” Noel swore as his loafers hit a slick patch of muddy lawn and he went sprawling.

Midnight barked at him and scampered beyond his reach.

Noel scowled at the little piece of fluff, then down at his ruined slacks. A large grass stain covered one knee and his hand hurt where it had landed on a rock, scraping off some skin.

“Come here, Midnight,” he said in a tone that meant business.

No response.

“I said, come here.”

Midnight barked again and began walking away.

The stupid mutt thought they were playing a game, Noel soon realized. It would serve the animal right if he just left her outside until she got hungry enough to come home. But it might be a while. Midnight was well fed and used to being outside in the fenced yard. The delicious taste of freedom wasn't something she'd give up so easily.

Noel couldn't abandon the silly dog, because the animal was dumb enough to run out in front of a car. But it didn't keep him from feeling like a fool, he grumbled as he rose to chase the creature. It wasn't seemly. If the dog were a German shepherd or something, okay. But a wee little dog made him look ridiculous.

Still, Elena would be distraught if she returned home and her dog was missing, so he continued chasing Midnight.

“Come here, girl,” Noel called, trying ever so discreetly to inch closer and closer to the dog without Midnight noticing what Noel was doing. How hard could it be to catch such a little bitty thing? He was certainly not about to be outsmarted by a piece of fluff.

Midnight sat down and waited, watching Noel's slow approach. She cocked her head and listened to him coax her to come to him.

“That's it, girl. Just sit very still until I reach you and pick you up ever so gently and wring your silly little neck.”

But just as soon as Noel got within lunging distance of Midnight, the dog would bounce away as though she were on tiny springs, then bark at him from a safe distance, as if Noel were some mean old dognapper.

Frustrated, Noel tried flat out running after the scampering dog and nearly knocked himself out when he ran smack into a low tree branch; he actually saw a burst of tiny stars momentarily. Feeling a little dizzy, he stayed put where he'd landed on the ground.

Which was what he should have done all along, because Midnight began whining and walked back over to him, jumping into Noel's lap and licking his face.

But a couple of neighborhood kids riding by on their bikes attracted Midnight's attention and the dog leaped from Noel's grasp to take off after the boys, yapping at their feet.

Noel held his head in his hands, wishing he were on a warm sunny island with his head hurting because he was hung over.

He had to get up and go after the dog.

Before he lost sight of it.

Sound of it, anyway.

Pushing himself up off the damp ground, he resumed the chase.

N
OEL HAD BEEN GONE
a long time, Hollie thought uneasily.

She prayed nothing had happened to Midnight. Elena would be upset and her holiday would be completely ruined.

She emptied the boiling water from the large stockpot full of potatoes and shook them into a bowl for whipping.

By the time she'd finished making the mashed potatoes and checked on the rouladens in the oven, Noel and Midnight still had not returned.

Her worry increased as she worked to make the rest of the dishes for the dinner party Sarah was catering. Helping Sarah from time to time had taught her a lot about catering.

She checked her watch. “Where are you, Noel?” she asked aloud. Sarah and Elena weren't due back for a while, but that still didn't prevent Hollie from worrying.

To distract herself, she went to the stereo system and put on the radio, turning from a talk radio station to a station playing Christmas carols.

Returning to the refrigerator, she got out the endive bunches, red leaf lettuce and romaine to wash for the tub of salad. While her hands were busy with the idle task of rinsing the lettuce, she let herself itemize the holiday tasks she had yet to do. First on the list was finding the Barbie in the pink dress for Elena.

Then she wanted to try making sugared fruit. Oh, yes, she needed to get the makings for a gingerbread house because she'd promised Elena she could spend the night and they would make one together. And as of yet, she hadn't found the special ornament for this year to add to the tree, a custom she'd started when she'd bought the house.

She let out a little gasp, suddenly remembering she'd forgotten to kiss a pomegranate on December 15, which would have meant all her Christmas wishes would come true. Instead she'd kissed a grinch—it was impossible to know what that meant.

Noel could have easily spent the day doing something besides helping her cook and, now, chasing down Midnight. Was he trying to get into her good graces so she'd sell the house to him? He'd claimed he was helping so they could look at some houses later in the day. But, she wondered if the real reason he'd offered was that he was lonely.

She'd just finished the lettuce and drained the water, when the doorbell rang. Wiping her hands dry on a dish towel, she went to get the door, hoping it was Noel with Midnight.

Her hopes were answered. Midnight was squirming, but safe and sound in Noel's arms. Noel, however, looked as though he'd been hit by a truck.

“What happened to you?” she cried, taking the dog as Noel came inside. “Are you all right?”

“I need to sit down.”

She helped Noel to the sofa, while Midnight made her way to her water dish and lapped loudly.

Noel gingerly lowered himself to the sofa. “Can you turn off the music, please? And turn out the lights.”

Hollie hurried to do as he requested. Midnight, tired from her adventure, headed for the bed in Elena's room.

“What happened to you?” Hollie asked again when she returned to Noel's side.

“A low branch knocked me senseless when I was chasing that, that…dog! And then I had to crawl under a car to get her in the end.”

“I'm so sorry, Noel. Can I do anything for you?”

“As a matter of fact, you can. I'm prone to tension headaches and I've got a prescription to pick up.” He reached in his pants pocket to withdraw his wallet. “Here, take this. There's cash and my insurance card. Those pills should take care of this headache. I'll just wait here until you get back.”

“Will you be okay by yourself? You could have a concussion or something,” she said with concern.

“No, I'm fine. I've got a goose egg on my forehead and a headache, but I'm not dizzy or nauseous. If you'll just fetch me my prescription from Walgreens on Lindbergh, I'll be fine.”

She took his wallet and jotted down her cell phone number on her business card, then placed the card on the table beside him. “You can reach me on my cell phone if you need me,” she said, retrieving the portable phone and setting it beside the business card.

“Thanks.”

Hollie checked the rouladens in the oven to make sure they were ready, then turned off the oven.

“Okay, I'm leaving now,” she told him, heading for the front door.

“It smells good in here,” he mumbled as she left.

Since it was the last Saturday before Christmas the roads as well as the stores were packed. The drugstore was no exception. There was a long line and a long wait.

Standing in line, Hollie began looking through Noel's wallet for his insurance card. She sorted through a gas credit card, VISA, ATM card and an American Express card, before finding his insurance card. As she was putting the others back in their slots, his driver's license caught her eye.