Lori Borrill – One Winter's Night (страница 3)

“If you must,” Phyllis said through a sigh. “Just make sure you don’t buy a V-neck. You know how unflattering they look on you.”

Monica smiled tightly. “Of course.”

She made notes as her mother continued to jot off the holiday schedule—five days of meticulously arranged events that would keep the entire family busy through the holidays. The way Phyllis treated the Christmas season one would think the earth would implode if a single toast was so much as missed. Everything had to go a certain way and everyone had to be there. If not—well, up to this point, no one had dared to find out what would happen.

“On Friday we have to move up Christmas Eve brunch an hour because your father has a call to China he apparently can’t get out of,” Phyllis went on, the disappointment clear in her tone. “And did I tell you that Michael didn’t get that big account he’s been working on?”

“No, I hadn’t heard.”

Monica’s brother owned a commercial real estate firm in Manhattan and had been spending the past six months trying to nail down a sales contract with a large downtown developer.

“Be a dear and don’t mention it,” Phyllis said. “It’s a sensitive subject and the holidays are a time for cheer.”

“I won’t.”

As her mother went on Monica eyed the crystal clock on her desk. The company Christmas party had started almost an hour ago. By now, even John Stryker would be there taking inventory of the staff. She didn’t want to be the only executive missing from the room. John felt company functions played an important role in fostering teamwork at Stryker & Associates. Employees bowing out—particularly anyone on his senior leadership team—were highly frowned upon.

“So you’ll be flying into LaGuardia when?” Phyllis asked.

“I’m hoping for Wednesday night, but it might be Thursday morning.”

“You should come in Wednesday. I’d hate to have you looking harried for the photo after trying to rush here Thursday morning, and you never know what traffic could be like on 95.”

“I’ll do my best.”

She listened patiently as her mother went over the last few details then promised to call back next week to further finalize the plans, and after the two women shared goodbyes, Monica was done for the day, finally able to head upstairs to the company’s holiday party.

Quickly, she touched up her makeup and made her way to the makeshift ballroom, pleased to see the party was just starting. People were still getting their food and eating, which meant she hadn’t missed anything important. Breathing a sigh of relief, she stepped into the room, tossing off a few casual greetings to her associates and making her presence known.

Her assistant, Laura, slid up beside her. “You made it. I was about to come up and see if you needed a hand.”

“I had to tie up some loose ends, but I think I’m done for the day.”

“Good. Come eat.”

Laura led her to the buffet table, where the two women picked up plates and surveyed the selections.

Laura pointed to various items. “Get some of Leonora’s lumpia before it goes. They’re delicious. The meatballs are sweet and sour, and that custard-looking thing is an egg dish Carol Peterson brought in.”

Monica crinkled her nose. “What’s in it?”

“Vegetables and some kind of meat. Pork, maybe. I’m not sure, but people have said it’s good.”

Monica picked up a lumpia but decided to pass on the custard. Instead, she searched the table for something more recognizable when her eyes zeroed in on a familiar white box with a signature LB logo on top.

She gasped. “Are those petits fours from Lady Baltimore?”

She opened the lid and the little chocolate delights winked back.

“Nick Castle brought those.”

Nick, you prince.

She set one on her plate, bit her lip and dared to take one more. In her world, chocolate was a precious gem and Lady Baltimore petits fours were the Hope Diamond. Her opinion of the buffet table was definitely perking up.

She picked through the rest of the buffet then spent the next half hour mingling with the staff and chatting with her managers. By the time Monica finished eating and swallowing down a glass of white wine, she found herself alone by the windows reflecting on this past week of deadlines and snowstorms and the rush to scramble together preliminary year-end reports she’d be spending her weekend reviewing. It had been a stressful week. But it had sure started out well, hadn’t it?

A faint smile curved her lips as she recalled her trip to Florida and the Chicago snowstorm that had left her stranded at JAX and spending the night in an airport hotel.

In the arms of the sexy cowboy she’d met only hours before.

She tingled just thinking about him, not only from the memory of how he’d masterfully pleasured her body, but also by the sheer lasciviousness of having a one-night stand with a virtual stranger. Her mother would faint at the notion, not to mention the bulk of her staff, most of whom looked up to her as the model of ultraprofessionalism.

Up until Monday night, Monica hadn’t been the type to engage in such a sexual tryst—with a common Texas ranch hand, no less! She’d fit sex and relationships very neatly into her life much like she organized her closets and set aside time for yoga. Men had always been carefully selected from an assortment of business associates and partners in the industry. And while each and every one of them had been logical and well-suited, none had stirred the coals like the Stetson-wearing stranger she’d met in the airport lounge.

It had been such a primal night of lust, unearthing passion so hot it had literally scared her into fleeing in the wee hours of the morning, leaving only a terse note of thanks for the good time.

It was shameless, really. She would never treat an acquaintance so dismissively, much less a man she’d made love to, but she’d panicked. She’d never had stranger sex before, had no idea how to handle the morning after, so instead of tackling the situation with the same confident professionalism she held in the boardroom, she’d ducked out like a frightened teen, too awkward and embarrassed to do anything more.

But if she had, if maybe she’d walked away with a phone number or a way to get back in touch, she might have reserved the chance to meet up with her mystery cowboy again. Instead, her secret lover would have to remain a most delectable memory.

And, oh, what a memory.

“Are you enjoying the party?”

Monica pulled her thoughts to the present and looked up at the man in the red silk Santa suit.

“I am, thank you,” she replied, raising a brow as she noted his appearance. He was an interesting rendition of Santa Claus, for sure, presumably hired by Jeannie as entertainment for the party.

The man moved his gaze over the room. “It’s quite a festive night with all the lovely decorations, glorious food and sparkling music. Yet you look as though you’re hundreds of miles away.”

She crooked her mouth into a half smile. “Yes, I suppose for a moment I was.”

He touched a hand to his full white beard. “Ah, to be many places at once. It’s a common wish during the holidays.” He handed her a candy cane, one of those cheap miniature ones sealed in a cellophane wrapper, and asked, “And if you could be anywhere this Christmas, where would you be?”

She considered all her choices—at home curled up on her couch with a cozy fire and a good book, back in Connecticut with her family, or maybe sharing a girls’ weekend with her good friend Connie up in Ontario. But when she opened her mouth, the place most prominently on her mind tumbled from her lips.

“I’d love to be back in Florida.”

He placed his palms to his fat belly and let out a roll of jolly laughter, just like every Santa in the movies. “Ah, yes, Florida. The state with plenty of warm days…and even warmer nights, eh?”

Her eyes widened. Had she heard him right? It was hard to tell over the music, but the knowing gleam in those bright blue eyes said she hadn’t misunderstood.

“I’m afraid there’s no room in my sleigh for travelers,” he went on. “I can’t take you to Florida, but I might be able to bring a little of Florida here to you.”

He winked then glanced out the window, and she followed his gaze, half expecting the dark night sky to open up to bright sunshine while rows of fluffy palm trees sprouted along Lake Michigan. He was a strange man and it was an even stranger comment, passing between them like a shared secret as if somehow this odd rental agency hire knew exactly what she’d been doing Monday night. But that was impossible. No one knew about the affair. She hadn’t told her closest friend, much less anyone at the office.

She shook her head and brushed it off, feeling certain it was the culmination of a hectic week getting the best of her. Besides, she’d just been thinking about her Texan lover. It would be natural to put innuendo into anything the gentleman said. She assured herself it meant nothing, and that settled her nerves until she turned back to find him gone.

She darted her eyes around the room but he was nowhere. It was as if he’d disappeared. If it weren’t for the candy cane still in her hand, she’d think the whole encounter had been a figment of her imagination, brought on by her tired state or maybe a bit of bad meat from that potluck buffet. But there it was in her hand, proof that the odd conversation truly happened.