The Boss's Mistletoe Maneuvers (8 page)

That scenario might, in fact, solve everything.

But, his annoying inner chatter reminded him, Kim would probably still have to capitulate on the holiday clause in her contract, or risk being overlooked for the promotion by the next owner. She’d be hurt all over again. She’d be crushed.

Interestingly enough, he couldn’t stand the thought of Kim suffering.

He had gone soft.

It looked a lot like Chaz Monroe cared too much about his employees already. Some of them, anyway.

One of them.

Chaz rubbed his temple as he stared at the phone. Certainly it appeared as though big brother Rory didn’t linger for long on those kinds of things. If he did, he never spoke about it, or let on. Then again, it was entirely possible that Rory wasn’t human. Did Chaz actually want to emulate the successful business profile of an alien?

He absently tapped on the desk with his fingers. He had not lied to anyone here. Owners went undercover all the time to ferret out business details. With the agency running smoothly and well in the black, the next owner would be crazy not to keep things the way they were.

As for Kim, the best thing for her and his conscience both would be to help her in any way he could, and then back away. He’d have to shelve his feelings for her in order to make sure she got what she deserved. And okay, so he was way too addicted to her. He could hide that, get over that.

At least he could try.

Leaning forward, he punched another number into the phone and waited until someone picked up. “Mom,” he said, “about that party...”

Eight

“S
he’s gone,” Brenda said when Chaz appeared in her cubicle an hour later. It was probably just as well, he decided, because he hadn’t actually thought out what he’d say to her now that he was here.

In spite of the arguments and his sense of fairness where Kim was concerned, he wasn’t ready to just let her go away, maybe for good, without dealing with her future at the agency. Until he heard back from his intel source, he was willing to try to change her mind on this holiday issue one more time. The Monroes never backed away from a good fight, especially if there was a reward at the end.

“Fine,” he said to Brenda, reordering his thoughts on the new challenge and how he’d have to play it. “It’s you I came to see, anyway. Can you help me in Kim’s place with the party event?”

Brenda raised an eyebrow. “The party that is no party?”

“Oh, there’s a party, all right. Did she tell you there wasn’t?”

Brenda swiveled in her chair. “Now I’m confused. But just so you know, I won’t do anything else that involves my best friend’s feelings for you or her job.”

Chaz withheld a grin. “She has feelings for me?”

“You don’t want to know about the name-calling,” Brenda replied. “From both of us.”

“I suppose I deserved that for my behavior at her apartment, but there is a party, and I do need help. Can I count on you?”

Brenda blinked slowly. “Depends. Are you offering the same deal you gave Kim? Time off after the holidays and a nice bonus?”

“Yes. Okay. Same deal.”

“You’ll sign that in blood? Your blood?”

“Brenda, I might remind you that I’m the owner of this place and have something better than blood.”

“Power?”

He smiled.

“And we’re not supposed to know about you owning the agency, or let that get around, right?” Brenda said sheepishly. “Though a couple of us do know that?”

“You’re a heartbreaker, Chang. I had no idea blackmail made the world go around.”

“I believe I said
nice
bonus.”

“To which I agreed.”

“So, will you appear at my apartment if I refuse, and...?”

“Never. That’s a promise.”

“Darn.” Brenda smiled back. “Oh well, with an offer like that, how can I refuse? I may have to use the bonus to help support my friend if she leaves the job.”

“I’m not sure Kim would like our deal,” he said.

“I’m positive she won’t,” Brenda agreed. And the really good part, Chaz knew, was that Brenda wouldn’t be able to resist running to Kim with this bit of news. He only hoped that Kim might react the way he hoped she would, and face him down. Again. At least he’d get more time with her if that happened.

Fighting with her was better than not seeing her at all, he had just that minute decided.
At least in theory.

* * *

Kim hustled to the floor beneath her office, where the art department had their space. Just one more detail to take care of, and Monroe would be out of her hair for at least seven days. She wouldn’t have to think about him, dream about him or convince herself to despise him.

Going home to her mother’s meant dealing with things she had been avoiding since her mother’s death. She hadn’t set foot in that house since, and had dreaded going there for ages before that.

Because Kim was an only child, the house and all of her mother’s belongings were now hers. She should have relished combing through her mother’s things for remembered treasures. The fact that she didn’t look forward to it piled on more guilt.

She read somewhere that emotions can attach to objects, and she wanted nothing that might remind her of the problems they had shared. Had she loved her mother? Absolutely, and maybe too much. Witnessing the level of her mom’s nearly constant self-inflicted pain and suffering had become too much for one daughter to bear. She hadn’t been able to keep up with the treatments and the arguments and the ups and downs of her mother’s diagnosis of clinical depression.

This was the season that had kicked off the whole thing in the first place. December. Christmas. Betrayal. Would those things be contagious with her mother gone? Did houses retain the sorrow and joys of the people who had lived in them, or would her mother’s house be just a house, empty and waiting to be dealt with?

She had given that house six months to let loose of its old memories and feelings. It was high time she dealt with this.

The art department had been waiting for her, and took less time than she had anticipated to finish up what she needed. On her way out, someone stopped her with a painting on a piece of white cardboard and a question.

“Do you like this rendering?” Mark Ogilvie asked, showing her the board. “It was done super quickly, but I thought I’d run it by you before you left on vacation.”

“Sorry, Mark?” Kim took the board.

“The special Christmas party you and Brenda are doing as a favor to Monroe.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Kim flipped the board upright. It took her a minute to understand what she was seeing. Then it dawned. On that board was a watercolor rendering of the party Monroe had asked her to do. The party that she believed wasn’t really a party, and a complete sham.

Decorated tables, wrapped packages, ice sculptures, servers dressed up like elves—all of this had been painted in sparkling detail from Mark’s artistic point of view, and it was a beautiful, magical wonderland.

Her heart stuttered. She sucked in a breath. Closing her eyes briefly, Kim handed the painting back to Mark. “This has nothing to do with me. Sorry.”

He looked perplexed. “Can you get it to Brenda then, if you’re on your way back up? She requested it about twenty minutes ago as a top priority.”

“I don’t think Brenda...” Kim didn’t finish the protest. “Twenty minutes ago, you said?”

“She told me to show it to you on your way out. She made me promise to catch you before you reached the elevator.”

Kim forced a smile. “Okay. Thanks. This looks terrific, Mark. I’ll take it right up to her. I’m sure Brenda will tell you the same thing.”

It took every ounce of strength she possessed to walk toward the elevator with the painting in hand. Brenda had given her a heads-up on some new turn in the tide, and this painting said it all. Monroe was at it again, with Brenda this time.

Had Brenda somehow fallen for his line? After not getting his way with her, had Monroe moved on to her friend with hopes of luring Brenda into bed?

“Monster!”

When the elevator arrived, Kim got on, punched the floor button with the edge of the painting and clenched her teeth. Monroe’s antics were so unacceptable they were the definition of ludicrous. She wasn’t going to take this lying down. Neither would Brenda.

She wasn’t going back to Cubicle City. She’d ram this painting down Chaz Monroe’s throat for causing yet another hitch in her exit strategy.

“Monster,” she repeated, causing two other employees occupying the elevator with her to glance her way. “Brute.”

Surely Brenda wouldn’t fall for his nonsense after their conversation on the matter of Monroe’s lack of integrity and business ethics. Brenda wouldn’t have provided this heads-up if Brenda hadn’t known the score.

She stormed out of the elevator, strode briskly to the offices and past Monroe’s secretary, Alice.

“Kim?” Alice said, standing up.

“Personal matter,” Kim tossed back as she reached for the door handle of the office that should have been hers, but now kept the king of jerks tucked inside.

Monroe was there. He stood with his back to the window, watching her as she entered. He was looking more attractive than she had allowed herself to remember from only an hour ago.

Propelled by the thrashing heartbeat in her chest and an uncontrollable wish to see Monroe squirm, Kim crossed to the desk and tossed the painting on top of it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, sounding winded. “One partial conquest isn’t enough for you? You’d suck my best friend into your web, too? What I want to know is if you’re doing this to get back at me, or if you’re some kind of fiend? Sex fiend, maybe? I’d truly like to understand your actions. I’d like to know how far your lies usually get you.”

She saw her mistake as soon as she’d said those words. Monroe wasn’t alone. A woman sat in the leather chair beside the desk.

A chill ran down the back of her neck as Kim looked at the woman, who without standing up said, “You must be Kim McKinley. I’m Dana Monroe. Chaz’s mother.”

“I...” Words failed Kim. “Excuse me.”

She was really damn glad that the door was still open when she turned to rush through.

* * *

Chaz steeled his determination not to go after Kim, though he very badly wanted to. The blonde whirlwind had made his heart double up on beats.

“Feisty,” his mother said, eyeing him instead of the doorway Kim had fled through. “Witnessing that little tantrum was part of the reason you asked me to rush over here, I suppose?”

“No. Not exactly. But thanks for coming, Mom. Lucky for me you were headed across the street when I called.”

“Sex fiend, Chaz?”

“It’s a long story.”

“You’ve known her for how long, and she already knows your secrets?”

Chaz grinned. “Those kinds of things might be Rory’s secrets, but not mine.”

She waved a hand. “That’s the woman you’d like to keep?”

“She is good enough at what she does to occupy this office someday.”

“Yes, well, I hope she doesn’t talk to everyone like that, or I fear there won’t be any clients left.”

He shrugged. “She’s mad at me for being here, in this office, on this floor.”

“That’s all she’s angry about?”

“Possibly not. Again, long story. So, the party is still on?”

“Everyone loves a good party, Chaz, including me. Hand me that picture, and I’ll make some calls. I won’t be stepping on anyone’s toes by putting this together myself?”

“No toes.”

“This is all for her? For McKinley?”

Chaz lowered his voice. “I have a feeling it might be the first Christmas party she has ever attended. If I can get her there, that is. She has a sad spot that surfaces when the holiday is mentioned.”

“This is a goodwill effort on your part, then?”

“You could say that, yes.”

“All right.” His mother stood up and waited for Chaz to give her a peck on the cheek. “My sons know I’d do anything for them, and if it’s a goodwill mission, so much the better.”

On her way out, she paused to get in a longer last word. “You should probably spend less time with Rory. Whatever he has might be starting to rub off on you.”

Dressed as well as any woman of substance in New York, diamond earrings, fur-trimmed suit and all, his mother said her farewells and left. Alice filled the doorway soon afterward.

“I suppose you were eavesdropping?” Chaz said.

Alice made a zipping motion across her lips and tossed away an invisible key.

“I suppose you’ll be expecting a nice bonus, too, to keep that zipper zipped?” Chaz asked.

Despite the drama of the mouth-closing routine, Alice was able to speak. “Not necessary, since I’m only doing my job.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Chaz muttered as the door closed, sealing him off from some of the most enigmatic women to ever cross an office threshold.

As a matter of fact, he was starting to feel a little funny about that.

Now,
he thought, turning back to his desk, if Sarah would call with that intel report on Kim, he might actually have a leg to stand on.

Big reminder here: he had only been in this office for a few days, and his mind had been hijacked for the last two by a woman he wanted to help as much as he wanted to...

Well, until Sarah called, maybe he could get some official work done, and be of use.

Glancing out the window, he smiled. “Hopefully, it will be a merry Christmas, Kim,” he whispered as the phone beside him rang and Sarah Summers’s number lit up the screen.

* * *

Brenda was waiting for Kim in the elevator and pulled the red Stop button once she had entered.

“I’ve been riding these things up and down for the last twenty minutes, changing elevators every five,” Brenda said.

“Thanks for the warning,” Kim managed to say before resting her head against the gray metallic wall. “Shall I warn you about him in more detail, Bren?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Actually, no.”

“You imagine I was born yesterday, or that I can’t read between the lines? I’m hurt that you’d think I could be a traitor to our friendship, which means more to me than this job.”

Kim smiled weakly, thinking about the tape recorder Brenda had given to Monroe.

“So, you’re going home?” Brenda asked. “To your mother’s house? Would you like me to come with you?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. You said yourself that it’s time I face my demons.”

“It’s the season for joy, Kim,” Brenda said. “You could wait until next month to confront those buggers.”

“I don’t think I have an option. It’s now or never, or this might never be behind me. I can see that now.”

They were silent as the remark soaked in.

“I won’t help him,” Brenda said. “I had Mark do the work, and promised that he would get the bonus.”

Kim nodded.

“They’re not all scoundrels, no matter what you tend to believe,” Brenda continued. “The fact that Monroe is attracted to you doesn’t mean he’s a creep or that he can help it.”

“You’re taking his side?”

“I’m presenting both sides of what’s going on without addressing what’s at the core of all this.”

“Which is me facing or not facing this damn holiday.”

“Yes, and it’s good that you know it.”

Brenda was right. She had gone along with this fear of Christmas for the past few years, always rallying for Kim and helping to protect her—until now, when the time for frankness and real concern had finally arrived.

“Possibly going home will help,” Kim said.

“If you need me, call.”

Kim pressed the button. Instead of the elevator moving, the door opened. Chaz Monroe stood there, a serious expression on his devastatingly fine, chiseled face.