Read The Christmas Wife Online
Authors: Elizabeth Kelly
The Christmas Wife
THE CHRISTMAS WIFE
By Elizabeth Kelly
Copyright 2015 Elizabeth Kelly
This book is the copyrighted property of the author, and may
not be reproduced, scanned or distributed for commercial or non-commercial
purposes. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content
is allowed.
Your support and respect for the property of this author is
appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to
persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental.
The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used
fictitiously.
Adult Reading Material
Cover art by: The Final Wrap
Table of Contents
“You need a wife.”
“I don’t need a wife.”
“Are you kidding me? That’s exactly what you need.”
Deacon Stone glared at his best friend before standing and pacing
the length of his office. “Fine, I need a wife. How do you propose I find one
in less than a week?”
Jude tugged his tie loose and unbuttoned his collar. “I
don’t know – an escort agency?”
Deacon’s mouth dropped open. “An escort agency? Really,
Jude?”
“What? It’s only for a month and it isn’t like you can’t
afford to pay her daily rate.”
“I cannot hire an escort to be my wife, Jude! Use your
goddamn head!” Deacon shouted.
Jude held his hands up. “Alright, calm down. It was just a
suggestion.”
“Calm down?” Deacon stalked to the credenza and poured
himself a glass of scotch from the crystal decanter. He tossed the liquid
back, wincing at the fiery burn, before pouring himself another. “What do you
think would happen if the media found out that the CEO of the largest
independent toy company in the entire goddamn world hired a prostitute to be
his wife? The company’s stock would sink faster than the fucking Titanic!”
“So you make her sign a confidentiality agreement. No one
will find out.”
“Bullshit!” Deacon spat. “Someone would find out – they
always do – and everything I’ve worked my entire life for would be ruined. The
company would be ruined.”
Jude poured himself a glass of scotch and gave him a
sympathetic look. “You’re fucked, buddy.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Jude sipped at his scotch. “Hey, how bad could it be if you
didn’t get married? Do you really think she’ll do what she’s threatening?”
“Yes,” Deacon snapped. “My grandmother has lost her fucking
mind and if I don’t do this, she’ll give up her shares of the company to
Brandon.”
Jude grimaced. “Just thinking about your twit cousin
running this company makes me shudder.”
“It’ll also make you unemployed,” Deacon said grimly. “He
hates you as much as he hates me.”
“What did I do?” Jude said. “I’m a damn good CFO.”
“You’re also my best friend – that puts you on the hit
list.”
“You know, this decade-long feud with your cousin is
starting to get really annoying.”
Deacon ran his hand through his short, dark hair before
stuffing his laptop into its bag. “I’m heading home.”
“It’s three in the afternoon,” Jude pointed out. “You never
leave before seven.”
Deacon drained the last of his scotch. “I need some space
to think and figure this out. If you come up with any brilliant ideas, other
than hiring an escort to be my wife for a month, text me.”
* * *
“Mama? There’s a man here to see you.”
“Hattie, how many times have I told you not to answer the
door? You wait for me,” Claire sighed before quickly scooping her hair into a
ponytail. “It’s dangerous.”
The dark-haired girl shrugged before following Claire out of
the bathroom. “I’m not afraid.”
Claire frowned at her. “You need to listen to me about the
door, Hattie. It isn’t safe and I…”
She trailed off, her heart sinking at the sight of the man
standing in the doorway. She smiled tentatively at him, “Mr. Brightly, what
are you doing here?”
He cleared his throat and held out the envelope. “It’s an
eviction notice, Ms. Brooks.”
She glanced down at Hattie. “Hattie, go into the bedroom,
please.”
“Why? It’s almost time for school and I’m already
dressed.” She patted her jeans and pink camouflage top.”
“Go, Hattie,” Claire snapped. “Shut the door behind you.”
The little girl gave her a look of surprise before scurrying
into the bedroom and shutting the door.
“Mr. Brightly, please,” Claire said desperately. “I know
I’m a little behind on the rent but I swear to you, I will pay you in full by
the end of the month.”
“You’re two months behind, Ms. Brooks, and the end of the
month is in less than a week. Are you really going to have twenty-five hundred
by then plus this month’s rent?” He asked.
She gave him a large, fake smile. “Absolutely. September
was just a bad month, that’s all. My car died and I needed to get it repaired
so I could get to work. But I took some extra shifts and I – “
“It’s too late, Ms. Brooks. I’m sorry but I have my own
family to feed and I rely on the income from these apartments,” Mr. Brightly
said.
“Please,” Claire begged. “It’s Christmas. You can’t evict
me and my daughter at Christmas time.”
He sighed. “It’s the end of November, not Christmas.”
He pushed the envelope at her and she took it numbly as he
sighed again. “I really am sorry, Ms. Brooks, but you have to leave by the
thirtieth.”
He slipped out of the apartment, shutting the door softly
behind him, as Claire stumbled to the faded and lumpy couch. She sat down with
a thud and stared blankly at the envelope before glancing around the
apartment. It wasn’t much, just a small one-bedroom in the bad part of town,
and she had sold most of their furniture and a bunch of her personal items over
the last month in a last-ditch effort to earn the money she needed for rent,
but it was home. The only home that Hattie had ever known.
Out of habit she reached for her necklace, biting at her
bottom lip when she touched nothing but her own smooth skin. Tears pricked at
her eyes and she blinked them back savagely. Two days ago she had sold it at
the pawn shop down the street. She had hated to do it. It was the last gift
she’d gotten from her grandmother, and while it held some monetary value it was
more the sentimental value of it that had stopped her from pawning it before
now.
But desperate times called for desperate measures and she
had marched down to the pawn shop, Hattie in tow, and pawned it. She had been
proud of the fact that she didn’t cry, at least not until later that night when
Hattie was tucked into bed and sleeping soundly. The worse part was how
pointless it had been. She still didn’t have enough rent money and she had
been evicted. Even if she could find a new place to live she didn’t have
enough money for deposit and first month’s rent.
There’s always the car.
She bit back a soft sob. Yeah, she had her car and what
seven year old wouldn’t want to live in a car in the middle of winter? The
thought of Hattie sleeping in the car, bundled up against the cold but still
freezing make her stomach churn.
“Mama? What’s wrong?”
Hattie had come out of the bedroom and was leaning against
her leg, staring anxiously at her. “Who was that man?”
“No one, honey.” She forced herself to smile at her child.
“Come on, I’ll be late for work and you’ll be late for school if we don’t get our
bums moving.”
* * *
“Evicted?” Ellen said. “You’re fucking kidding me! It’s
Christmas!”
“I’m not kidding you.” Claire shifted her cell phone to her
other ear before wiping the cloth across the back of the toilet. “I have less
than a week to find a new place for us to live.”
“Well, shit,” Ellen replied. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Claire sighed.
“You can stay with me,” Ellen said firmly.
Claire smiled before turning the hot water tap on and using
a second rag to clean the sink. “I appreciate that, honey – really I do – but
you live in a studio apartment. There’s not nearly enough room for all three
of us.”
“We’ll make it work,” Ellen said stubbornly. Through the
phone, Claire could hear a toilet flushing and she smiled a little.
“Are you peeing or working?”
“I’m working,” Ellen said, “and peeing. It’s called
multi-tasking. How’s it going at the toymaker’s mansion?”
“Fine. I’ve still got a couple hours left.”
“Well, I’d offer to come over and help but I’ve still got
two more houses to clean and one of them is Mrs. Robertson’s. That house alone
is going to take me two hours.”
Claire grinned. “She has six boys – the bathrooms alone are
going to take you two hours.”
Ellen sighed. “You’re telling me. I’m jealous that you got
the mansion. God, for the size of that house – it’s remarkably easy to clean.”
“Honestly, I don’t even know why he has a maid service. The
guy lives by himself and is a neat freak,” Claire said.
“I’ve got to run,” Ellen said. “Listen, don’t worry about
the eviction thing – we’ll think of something, okay?”
“Sure,” Claire said unconvincingly. “Bye, Ellen.”
She hung up the phone and slipped her cell phone into her
pocket before wiping down the counter around the sink. The bathroom was
massive – hell, it was bigger than her entire apartment – but it would take
less than fifteen minutes to clean. She doubted it had even been used since
she had cleaned it last week. There were five bathrooms and the guy lived
alone.
Her phone rang again and she dug it out of her pocket. “Hi,
Pam. Is everything okay with Hattie?”
“Hi, Claire. Yes, I just picked her up from school but
Mikey’s broken his arm and I need to get to the hospital.”
“Oh my God! What happened?” Claire asked.
“He was tackled a little too enthusiastically at football
practice. He’ll be okay but I’m sorry, I can’t look after Hattie this
afternoon.”
“Of course,” Claire said immediately. “I’m just cleaning my
last house for the day but I’ll leave now and come pick her up.”
“Give me your address and I’ll drop her off,” Pam said.
“Oh no, that’s fine. You need to get to the hospital and –
“
“I don’t mind,” Pam interrupted. “Bob is already at the
hospital with him. Give me your address.”
* * *
“Mama, I’m boooored.” Hattie dropped on to the stiff and uncomfortable
looking couch in the library, and rested her feet on the arm of it. “Can we
leave now?”
“No, honey, we can’t. I’m not finished cleaning.” Claire
carefully dusted the vase. “And get your feet off the couch, please.”
“Do kids live here?” Hattie asked. “Maybe I could play
with their toys.”
“There aren’t any kids living here, honey. I told you, Mr.
Stone is a bachelor and lives by himself.”
“Then why is his house so big?” Hattie moaned dramatically.
Claire laughed. “Some people like to live in big houses.
Listen, I’m going upstairs to clean the master bathroom. Stay right here and
don’t touch anything.”
Hattie folded her arms across her chest. “This place
sucks.”
“Hattie,” Claire said warningly.
“Sorry,” the little girl muttered.
She folded her hands in her lap and smiled at her mother.
“I’ll be very good, mama. I’ll sit right here and not touch anything.”
“Thank you. I won’t be too much longer,” Claire said.
“If I’m really good, can we stop at McDonald’s for supper?”
Hattie said hopefully.
Claire shook her head. “No, honey. You know that’s only a
special treat.”
“But we haven’t done it in forever,” Hattie pointed out.
“Please, mama. Jack went last night with his family and the toy in the Happy
Meal is a racing car! A racing car, mama! It had green stripes! Please, I
want one so badly.”
Claire’s heart broke at the look of longing on her
daughter’s face but she shook her head. Right now she couldn’t afford to spend
even a few extra dollars on eating out. “I’m sorry, Hattie. Not this month,
okay? But maybe next month.”
“It’ll be gone by then,” Hattie sighed, “and the toy will
probably be a stupid doll.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” Claire repeated softly. She kissed
Hattie’s forehead and left the room quickly before Hattie could see how upset
she was.
Hattie sat quietly for thirty seconds before creeping to the
door. She scanned the hallway, smiling when she didn’t see her mother, and
then scampered down it, trailing her hand along the wall. She stepped into the
first room on the right. It was a dining room with a massive wood table and a
giant crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. She flipped the light
switch on, admiring the way the light reflected off the crystals before
leaving. The next room was even bigger. The walls were covered in large
paintings and she studied the one over the fireplace. It was a dark-haired boy
with dark eyes and a solemn face and she peered at it before whispering,
“Creepy.”
She wandered around the room, staring at the glass cabinets
filled with weird looking vases and figurines. At the far end a small green
statue of a naked woman balanced on top of a wooden stand, and she traced the
statue’s leg with one grimy finger before looking around guiltily. She
half-expected to see her mother standing in the doorway, and she breathed a
sigh of relief when it was empty.
The floor was wood and she slid her sock feet across it,
smiling to herself at the slipperiness. She glanced around again before
suddenly sprinting across the room. She held her arms out and slid on her sock
feet, nearly crashing into the wall before she could stop herself.
“Whee!” She whispered quietly before backing into the
hallway. She leaned against the wall and used it to push off, running full
speed into the room and sliding again. She made it nearly the entire length of
the room and she laughed out loud before sliding back to the door and out into
the hallway. This time she ran farther into the room and held her arms
straight up in the air as she started to slide.
As she approached the far end of the room, her sock hit a
snag in the wood and she lost her balance. She pinwheeled her arms, trying to
stay upright and failing miserably. She slammed into the wooden stand with a
loud grunt. The green lady teetered on the stand and fell to the floor beside
her. It smashed into pieces, showering her with green glass, and she stared
wide-eyed at the broken statue.