The Boss's Mistletoe Maneuvers (13 page)

Sixteen

M
onroe
stood on her doorstep, looking like every woman’s idea of a prebreakfast treat.

Dressed to impress in soft gray pants, black leather jacket and another blue shirt that matched his eyes to perfection, he stared back, his expression a mixture of stoicism and worry.

After denying herself the luxury of purposefully giving in to her thoughts about him for the last couple days, Kim’s first instinct was to jump his bones. From a distance of three feet, he smelled like heaven.

Her inner alarm system went to full alert. She said firmly, “You understand the meaning of the term
vacation?
”

“I’ll explain if given the chance,” he said.

“Do I actually have to be here?” Brenda interjected. “I have a meeting in twenty minutes. You two can work this out without me.”

“You brought him here,” Kim reminded her friend. “This one’s on you.”

“Wrong,” Brenda argued with a shake of her head. “It’s quite possibly all about
you,
and I’m merely the middleman
again.
”

“I’m in my pajamas, Bren.”

“I didn’t notice,” Monroe said lightly, lying through his teeth. His eyes continued to roam over every inch of her anatomy, from her head to her bare feet.

She crossed her arms to cover herself, hoping to delay the quick-rising crave factor from reaching her breasts.

“I’ve been calling you for the past fifteen minutes, to warn you that we were on our way,” Brenda said.

Kim glanced over her shoulder as if she could see her cell phone through the wall. “From another cell?”

Brenda nodded. “Mine’s at the office. We left in a hurry.”

“How was I supposed to know you were calling?”

Brenda threw up her hands. “I don’t know. Psychically?”

Brenda was usually connected to her phone at the hip, so for her not to have it meant that Monroe had dragged her here. As what, a buffer or a mediator?

Kim confronted Monroe with narrowed eyes. “You can’t come in.”

“I’m having a déjà-vu moment in this hallway,” he remarked, “when I thought we were beyond that.”

His meaning wasn’t lost on her. Yes, they were beyond it, if their recent nakedness and exchange of body fluids meant he had a free pass to bother her anytime he wanted to.

Kim felt the flush spread up her neck and into her cheeks. Her sore thighs were heating up, as if she were more than willing to go another round on any surface with the man across from her.

Managing to tear her gaze from him, Kim looked to her friend. “Go on. You wanted to tell me something important enough to bring him along?”

Brenda nodded. “His plans were to sell the agency after getting it up and running and more profitable. That’s what his family does. They buy and sell businesses, and they’ve made a fortune doing so.”

Brenda tossed a glance Monroe’s way before continuing. He remained mute.

“If he sells the agency, you’ll still have the opportunity to be promoted, and he will be gone, so no worries there about pesky rumors or anything else. It looks like all this is in your favor,” Brenda said. “I trespassed on your vacation time to tell you this so you won’t plan on leaving the agency, or town. You don’t have to. Not now. Plus, I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, so the boss decided to come along when I did.”

Kim’s gaze bounced back to Monroe. “Is this true?”

He nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“You never planned on owning the agency for long, or being there long-term?”

“That was the initial plan,” he replied. “I was going to tell you about this the other night, but we got distracted.”

Distracted?
Seriously? That’s what he called it?

“This is the news you said you’d postpone until later?” Kim asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“You didn’t think it was important enough to bring up right away?”

“There were other issues to deal with first.”

Admittedly, the news should have made her feel better. She should have jumped for joy. She didn’t have to leave the job she loved. She just had to make it work, or prolong the vacation until Monroe sold the place. Instead of feeling relief, though, her stomach churned.

Chaz Monroe would be gone.

The last few days of her life passed before her eyes. Monroe hadn’t really taken the VP spot but had simply gone undercover in his own business to help it along on the road to full financial recovery. She didn’t have to worry about him in the future, as far as work went, because he wasn’t going to be there to give her hot flashes each time they passed in the corridors.

And the part of this situation that had bitten her in the backside—the contractual issue—was ebbing away due to having confronted her mother’s ghosts.

She was nothing like her mother. Not even a bit. She had a lot to look forward to.

Monroe’s news was good, all right, though it also left them both on uneven ground. If he left the agency and wanted to see her, there’d be no more excuses to stay away from him. In truly shedding her mother’s fears, there’d be no need to stay away from him. If he left the agency, she might
want
to see him, often, and would be free to do so, if that one small fear didn’t remain about being left behind after giving her love to a man.

“Kim?” Brenda said.

Does that meet with your approval?” he asked. “I’ll soon be out of your hair, and you can pursue the promotion any way you’d like to.”

Out of her hair?

Her stomach constricted. The words were like a blow.

His comment didn’t sound as though it came from a man ready to pursue a relationship with her.

She’d been fantasizing about him for nothing?

Kim closed her eyes.
Fool.

Maybe he’d already gotten what he wanted from her, with no plans for furthering their connection. A male victory. A conquest.

His expression had become guarded. He hadn’t made the slightest move in her direction, or agreed with Brenda’s suggestion that she leave them alone to work this out.

Because there was nothing to work out?

Kim staggered back a few inches, struck by the pathetic degree of her own vulnerability.
I haven’t learned anything.

“Fine,” she said softly. “Good.”

Then she closed the door in Monroe’s face.

She leaned against the frame, gathering her wits, bolstering her courage to be the new Kim McKinley she had only three days ago set out to be, while sensing Monroe’s presence through the closed door.

“I take it she wasn’t happy with the news,” he said in the hallway.

“She was in her pajamas,” Brenda remarked, as if that fact explained everything.

“Well, I’m done here. I’ve given up trying to determine what might make her happy,” Monroe said. “I went out of my way to reconcile, with every intention of helping her out, but I’m no idiot. She’s on her own. Come on. I’ll walk back to the office with you. Sorry you came along without a coat. It’s cold outside, so you can use mine.”

“Hell, Monroe,” Brenda said. “You can be downright chivalrous when you want to. If you weren’t in love with my best friend, I might want to date you.”

“Love?” Monroe said. “I think you must be a true romantic, Brenda.”

“Your eyes lingered.”

“I’m a man, and she was in her pajamas.”

“You can’t fool anybody, Monroe, except maybe yourself.”

Their voices faded, but the comments rang in Kim’s ears like an echo.
Love?
How little Brenda knew about what had happened, and about Monroe’s subsequent victory.

He had given up, thrown in the towel. Why did his proclamation send icy chills through her overheated system?

The other night, everything she dared to want had been within her grasp, yet she hadn’t reached for it, needing to be strong on her own terms. Now some of those happy endings were no longer viable, and only the stuff of dreams.

She was sick to death of what-ifs and games and hypothetical problem solving. Monroe had given up without a word to her about their night together and how he felt about it, personally. He’d needed to accompany Brenda here; there was a chance he wouldn’t have come on his own.

He hadn’t agreed with Brenda about loving her, or mentioned anything other than wanting to help her to get the promotion she deserved.

A professional visit, then.

Not personal at all.

Nothing remotely resembling love.

All right. She’d have to make that work, and for now occupy her time elsewhere. Keep busy, and on the right path. Back to shopping. She’d indulge every other whim to its maximum potential. This would make her feel better and blur the emptiness deep inside that Chaz Monroe had temporarily filled.

Pondering how many times in the last seventy-two hours she’d arrived at the same conclusion, Kim headed for her closet to dump the pajamas. There was some serious
forget-him
therapy to do, and no time to waste.

“Who am I kidding?” she whispered, dropping to her bed with her head in her hands. “What we had felt like love to me.”

* * *

It was insane. Possibly the worst idea she’d ever come up with. Nevertheless, it was what a mature grown-up would do.

Her dress was black, short, sleeveless, with a moderately cut neckline and a perfectly fitted waist. She covered it with a fur-trimmed sweater and added a string of crystal beads at her throat. Her shoes were black Louboutin knockoffs with tall, gold heels that significantly increased her height and lent her an air of confidence that came with overspending.

She sat in the cab, eyeing the big house with determination, and took a few deep breaths before emerging on a cobbled driveway bordered by a knee-high hedge. The mansion was aglow with bright golden light. Windows and doors glittered handsomely, welcomingly. Garlands of evergreen and holly swooped in perfect loops, tied with red velvet bows and dripping with colored glass balls. Rows of cars lined the driveway, as well as part of the street.

What would growing up in a house like this have been like? She hadn’t thought to ask Monroe where he lived now, and it no longer mattered, anyway. Ten days had passed since he last stood in her hallway, declaring his decision to give up on helping her further. Ten miserable days. She hadn’t been back to the office yet, since her projects had been completed before she’d taken a break. Time and distance away from Monroe had been necessary in order to contemplate her future.

So, here she was, at Monroe’s parents’ home, about to attend a Christmas party she was supposed to have helped design. It was Christmas Eve, and she was here as she’d promised Monroe she would be, before the rift with him widened. Coming here was a big step, but doable, now that she was getting used to the idea of going it alone.

She would smile at Monroe, and maybe shake hands. They’d share a laugh over how silly they both had been. She’d wish him well with the sale of the agency.

The front door of the house stood wide open, manned by a greeter in a black suit holding a silver tray of sparkling champagne flutes. Kim took a glass as she entered the expansive foyer with its warmly aged wood floors, mirrors and framed oil paintings of lush landscapes.

People of all ages were everywhere. Children raced through the foyer, and back and forth into adjoining rooms, laughing, teasing, having a good time. She envied them. Christmas was magical for children, and this party exemplified that magic to perfection.

If the exterior radiated glow and welcome, the interior of the Monroe house magnified that. Kim knew what the living room would look like before entering, and found it exactly like the rendering she’d seen. Ice sculptures towered over plates of food on center tables. Foam snow whitened windowsills. There was gilt tableware and crystal. Best of all, the largest tree she’d ever seen took up one full corner, at least ten feet of greenery loaded with decorations, twinkling lights and dangling candy canes.

Though she expected this kind of sensory wonderland, the sight stopped her. Her eyes filled, and she choked back a sob. The room was unbearably beautiful. For a holiday-starved woman only now overcoming the past, the magic seemed overwhelming.

Her hands began to tremble. Champagne sloshed from her glass. Would Monroe find her? Welcome her? Save her from all this beauty by snapping her back to reality?

A subtle movement, singled out from the comings and goings of the people around her, caught her eye. A man stood in the opposite doorway, leaning casually against the jamb. He was dressed in a tasteful black sweater and pants and wore a look of casual unconcern. Kim’s heart skidded inside her rib cage. She almost spilled more of her drink.

But it wasn’t Monroe who raised his glass at her. It wasn’t Monroe who smiled, or Monroe’s eyes that took her in. Similar in height and weight, and nearly as handsome, with the same dark hair and fair face, whoever this was pushed off the wall and headed in her direction when their gazes connected.

The lights suddenly seemed too bright, too real, too magical. In the middle of the wonderful holiday glitter she’d only began to wrap her mind around, dealing with another man who looked like Monroe, but wasn’t, became too much for Kim to handle.

She should not have come. She wasn’t ready.

Setting her glass on the table, she turned. Before the man could reach her, she’d reached the foyer, and with just one more look over her shoulder at the luxurious wonderland that was Monroe’s life, she exited quickly, and as silently as she had arrived.

* * *

“Rory?” Chaz said, finding his brother in the foyer looking perplexed.

“You missed it, bro,” Rory said, staring at the door.

“What did I miss?”

“Only the most gorgeous creature on the planet.”

Chaz grinned. “There are a lot of beautiful women here tonight.”

“Not like this one.”

“By the way, how much champagne have you chugged? Have we run out yet?”

“I’m serious,” Rory said. “She was a vision.”

Chaz looked past his brother. “So, where is this goddess?”

“She left.”

“The party just started,” Chaz pointed out.

“That’s what makes her exit so dramatic.”