Ask Her at Christmas (7 page)

Beth pushed her aside. “Don’t hog the gap. I want to spot my family, too. Gotta know where to wave when I cross the stage. Did you find your parents?”

Taking up almost an entire row, along with Lisa, Raquel and Brooke. While she didn’t want her friends to be bored to tears with the ceremony, they’d insisted on coming. Said it was an inarguable friendship rule. So why wasn’t Kyle here? “Yep. I think they got here an hour ago to pick out prime seats. My dad bought a new video camera just for the occasion.” A tiny coil of warmth bloomed in her heart. Her family had always been her biggest support. Well, along with Kyle. She’d better shake off her gloom and project nothing but happiness for that video camera. After all, she didn’t want her dark pit of despair memorialized for all time.

“I haven’t been as lucky as you with the job offers.” Beth let the curtains slide shut. “No rejections yet, but nothing solid, either. I really want that curator position in Santa Fe. Except I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave Chicago. A girl can’t live on chile peppers alone, you know. Do you think they know how to make decent pizza in New Mexico?”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’ll just have to teach them.”

Beth stroked the white satin of her ceremonial hood. “If you take the job at the Art Institute, would you put in a good word for me? I mean, if New Mexico is still deciding, a reference from an associate curator at the Art Institute would probably seal the deal.”

“Sure,” she said absentmindedly. Beth’s almond-shaped eyes drooped at her lackluster response. “I mean, of course. You know how to put together one heck of an exhibit. They’d be lucky to have you. But I don’t know which job I’ll take.”

“Are you kidding? You didn’t already have a favorite picked out?”

“No.” Which was true. The glamorous life of travel with the Selford or the prestige of belonging to one of the world’s most renowned museums? On paper, both jobs were great. Would she let Monica run her out of town? Pride said no. On the other hand, pride didn’t come with a paycheck. If she stayed and Monica made good on her threat to blackball her, Caitlin’s career would be over before it even began. She didn’t have the resources or the contacts to put up a fight. Still, she hadn’t completely resigned herself to rolling over.

“Is Kyle here yet? I bet he brought you a great present. At least a bouquet, but maybe something bigger. I swear, that smokin’ hot computer geek of yours is the best BFF a girl could ask for. Can you see if he’s got a bouquet on his lap?” Beth twitched the curtains open a little bit wider.

Caitlin took another peek, but nothing had changed. Wishing that he’d appear in the back row, bent over his iPad so that a lock of dark hair drifted onto his forehead, didn’t make it happen. Apparently rubbing a graduation robe had none of the magical properties of an enchanted lamp. “Kyle’s not here.”

“That’s weird. Didn’t you remind him? I know it’s a workday and all, but Kyle wouldn’t miss your graduation ceremony.”

A week ago, Caitlin would’ve believed that to be true. If it was still just up to Kyle, no matter unsettled they might be since the kiss, she knew without a doubt he’d be there. No, his absence on this day of all days had to be Monica’s doing. By keeping him away, she was sending a message to Caitlin. A crystal clear message that now Kyle belonged to
her
.

“Kyle’s not coming. He’s, ah, getting ready to propose to his girlfriend.”

“Aw, that’s lousy, Caitlin. Still, I bet he definitely comes through with an awesome present to make up for it.”

God, it rankled her to cave to Monica’s heavy-handed threats. But there was no way in hell she could stay in Chicago, cut off from Kyle. In that moment, Caitlin made up her mind. “Whatever it is, it better be small enough to fit in a carry-on. I’m taking the job with the Selford Chambers.”

Chapter Seven

Kyle paced the twentieth floor hallway of LTS Industries. Sharp sunlight poured in through the open steel-and-glass framework. He squinted, wishing the blizzard had stuck around another few days. Then the overcast sky would match his black mood. His dress shoes clicked against the concrete floor. Like most IT professionals, his daily uniform consisted of jeans, tees and sneakers, unless he had a client meeting scheduled. But for today’s board meeting, he’d pulled out the power suit. Caitlin had picked it out for him, saying the navy pinstripes deepened his eyes. As if anyone in the security business gave a shit about his eye color. Except for when they used him to test their retina scanners.

Since joining the company straight after grad school, he’d been to only one board meeting. His dad introduced him around, and then Kyle spent the next six hours trying not to let his eyes cross with boredom. He usually scheduled quarterly upgrades or training on board dates; whatever gave him a good enough excuse to skip the damn thing.

Another set of heels tapped up behind him. “Mr. Lockhart, how may I help you?” His father’s assistant held a tray of pastries and looked harried. Dad had a habit of breaking in, and then flat out breaking the spirit of his assistants in a year or less. This one—Kyle didn’t bother to memorize their names anymore—had been here about eight months, and showed signs of wear around the edges. She smiled a little too brightly, jumped a little too fast when Dad barked at her. Her days were numbered.

“I’m here for the board meeting.”

“Really? It started more than an hour ago.”

An hour ago he’d been tossing back his third espresso. Sleep hadn’t come for him until close to dawn. “I’m a last-minute addition to the agenda.”

“Oh. Your father didn’t mention any changes. They’ve got a tightly packed schedule today, with the finalization of the merger this morning. All regular board business is in the afternoon. Perhaps you should come back after lunch?”

Kyle couldn’t wait until afternoon. “I’m going in now.” Actually, he’d wanted to pace out here a while longer to work up his courage. Maybe zip down to the lobby for another coffee. It wouldn’t be good if his caffeine buzz wore off on the other side of the massive smoked-glass boardroom doors. But he couldn’t risk this woman alerting his father to his intentions.

“Mr. Lockhart, you can’t barge into the middle of a meeting. You’ll have to wait until they break.”

“That would be the polite, professional thing to do, wouldn’t it?” Her wobbly grin relaxed. He grabbed the pastry tray and set it on her desk. “Problem is, I feel downright dangerous this morning. Ready to hitch up my chaps, stomp through the swinging doors and shoot up the entire saloon.”

She looked at him as if he’d spoken gibberish. So he’d tossed and turned through three straight John Wayne movies last night. The rough-and-tumble cowboy epitomized the calm strength he planned to project to the board. In the Wild West, a man stood up for what he believed in, against all odds. Today, Kyle would be a gunslinging cowboy, ready to fight to the death.

“Look, I’m going in. Do me a favor and don’t interrupt us, despite whatever your agenda says.” Kyle smoothed his tie, shot his cuffs and walked through the doors. The room was quiet and dark, blinds drawn against the sun. Coffee cups and crumb-spattered plates filled most of the giant glass table. Close to twenty heads swiveled in his direction.

Dear old dad didn’t waste any time looking surprised. Instead, he shot Kyle a glare that warned he’d better have a damn good excuse for intruding. “Gentlemen, pardon the interruption. My son Kyle heads up our security division. There must be some sort of a problem.” He motioned for Kyle to enter.

Kyle held his ground at the head of the table. He didn’t want to venture any deeper into the lion’s den. “There’s definitely a problem. My father tells me that to finish off this merger, all of you expect me to marry Monica Selford. Well, that’s not going to happen.”

Doug Drysdale, board president and a wrinkled prune of a man with about an eight-foot stick up his ass, sniffed his displeasure. “We’re at the end of some very delicate negotiations. Why don’t we save the discussion of your personal life for later?”

“The way I hear it, my personal life has become the business of both LTS and the Selford Chambers.” Kyle raised his arm and pointed at each man in turn. Interesting how most of them wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Huh. Not one of you looks shocked that I’ve broached the topic. Clearly my impending marriage isn’t news to you. So I thought you should know it’s being taken off the table as a bargaining chip.”

A young guy on the Selford side of the table spoke up. “Don’t be ridiculous. This merger is based on stock transfers, profit and loss statements, gross proceeds. We’re only interested in your talent in the security division and Monica’s capability to handle PR.”

Huh.
His father had a lot of bad points, but lying wasn’t one of them. Brian Lockhart had made it clear that both companies were behind the whole proposal idea. Kyle figured this guy was stalling to give one of the older, craftier men time to figure out how to railroad him right back into proposal mode. But he’d play along.

“Good. Because this isn’t fourteenth century Europe, and a merger should be based solely on business. I’m happy to work with you on upgrading the security on your hotels.” Well, he’d mostly play along. While making sure his lack of marital intent came through loud and clear. “What I won’t do is tie up my future happiness to pad the bottom line in your annual report.”

A guy in a green-and-red bow tie slammed his hand against the table. “Now listen here. We entered these negotiations in good faith. We were promised certain conditions. You can’t go changing things at the last damn second, Lockhart.”

Kyle couldn’t tell if he or his dad was the intended target of that verbal arrow. A quick glance down the table showed his dad had taken a seat, and didn’t look at all ready to jump into the fray. Kyle jerked his chin at bow tie guy. “Who are you?”

“I’m Richard Selford. Monica’s father.”

Everybody said meeting prospective in-laws was hell. Dumping the guy’s daughter to his face took the situation to a world-record level of awkwardness. “Nice to meet you.” He figured it would be prudent to extend a small olive branch. “Look, your daughter is a lovely woman. She’s just not the right woman for me. Which means I’m probably not the right man for her, either.”

Another hand slap on the table. “I don’t give a rat’s ass. Your last name’s Lockhart. That’s all it takes to make you the right man.”

“Could I interest you in an upgrade to my brother, Craig?” Kyle joked. Nobody laughed. Good thing Craig wasn’t at the table to witness his being thrown under the bus.

“Have you seen the headlines—any of ’em—in the past three months? That daughter of mine gets more column inches for her catting around than we pay for in straight advertising in a year. Makes us look weak. Like the company won’t survive after I’m gone. Stockholders are already sniffing around for a takeover.” Richard rose to his feet and stabbed a finger at Kyle. “I need a stable man with a good reputation, part of a strong family company. I need you.”

“Well, if I may quote you, sir, I don’t give a rat’s ass.” Still, his father said nothing. Kyle didn’t know what to make of the atypical silence. He had a feeling it didn’t bode well. This might be a very un-merry Christmas around the Lockhart family tree. Of course, with Caitlin not speaking to him, the holiday season was already as dead to him as Marley’s ghost. “Monica and I are not pawns in this merger.”

“You damn well are!” Richard roared. “Either you propose to my daughter by the end of the year, or, or—”

“Or what? You’ll scuttle the merger? LTS will be fine without you.”

Richard walked the length of the table to glower at Kyle, up close and personal. “Will you be fine without LTS?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your father needs this deal to close as much as we do. It’s going forward. But we can’t have people on board who aren’t team players. If you don’t propose, I’ll demand Brian kick you out of the company entirely.”

Kyle had brought his swagger to the showdown, but his opponent had brought something better—a loaded gun. And he honestly didn’t know whether or not his father would help Richard pull the trigger.

Chapter Eight

Caitlin hurried up the wide stone steps of the Museum of Science and Industry. Good thing the sun had come out and melted all the dangerous ice. She didn’t have any time to spare nursing a sprained ankle. While she had until after Christmas to officially accept the offer from the Selford, Caitlin had already begun packing. Might as well get it over with so she could start her new life as soon as possible. This text was an unwelcome interruption in her busy day of sorting, stacking and trashing.

From the phone number, she knew the text she’d received was from Kyle. But all it said was this address, and the word
emergency
. She hoped it was Monica testing her with a false alarm. Caitlin had every intention of keeping her distance from Kyle from now on. So that he could make a fresh start, a new life with Monica. She’d even written him a letter, explaining that her new job would keep her far too busy for them to stay in touch, and wishing him a happy marriage. One of these days she planned to screw up the gumption to actually stick it in the mail.

Despite her best intentions to stay away, the word
emergency
couldn’t be ignored. To keep panic at bay, she hadn’t allowed herself to even wonder what it meant. Caitlin checked her coat and entered the vast entry hall. All it took was two steps onto the marble floor for memories to lodge in her throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. She and Kyle loved to come here, gawk at the world’s largest pinball machine and explore the WWII German submarine. Then they’d go home and play Risk, divvying up the world with bloodthirsty glee between them.

To clear her mind, she concentrated on the present. For seventy years now, the museum put on a Christmas Around the World exhibit, with fifty decorated trees filling every nook and cranny. With only three days until Christmas, wide-eyed children were everywhere, drinking in the twinkle of more than thirty thousand lights. It was a mob scene, albeit a festive and joy-filled one. Shrieks and laughter layered over the red-robed high school choir in one corner, singing “The First Noel.” If she wasn’t neck deep in misery and heartbreak, Caitlin would’ve enjoyed herself.

Unsure of where to go, she turned into the main rotunda. In the center sat the forty-five-foot tall Great Tree, covered in blue-and-white balls barely visible beneath the strings of lights. The pedestal it sat on came up to the middle of her chest. And there, in front of it, stood Kyle.

Hands in his pockets, dark hair mussed and a day of scruff on his cheeks, he looked wonderful. She’d missed him so much over the past few days. Seeing him again scraped open the raw wound on her heart. He appeared to be in one piece, not to mention dressed to kill in his power suit, so she almost turned to leave. The emergency was probably a final proposal idea for Monica. Right now, she didn’t have the strength to hear it. Not until she’d built up an emotional callous as big as Lake Michigan.

“Caitlin, over here.” Kyle waved, and she had no choice but to go to him. She tugged at the bottom of her forest-green sweater and stopped more than an arm’s length away.

“Hi.” Not hugging him felt weird. They always hugged. If she touched him, she’d begin to cry, and probably never let go.
So, no hugs.

“I’m so glad you came.”

“Well, you did say it was an emergency. Even though I don’t see any obvious pools of blood or amputated limbs.”

He grinned. “I recently learned the word
emergency
has a broader definition than we’re used to. It came in really handy today, for example. I needed you here.”

“Why?”

“Well, because I have something to say to you. And because it’s one of our special places. How many times have we crawled around on the submarine?”

There it was. He’d brought her here to say goodbye. A sweet touch to do it at a place where they’d shared so many good times, but goodbye nonetheless. “Just enough, I guess.”

“Not nearly.” His smile faded away, and an odd intensity smoldered to life in his eyes. “I can’t ever get enough of you.”

It hurt more than she thought. His voice, low and husky, saying something so incredibly sweet, had tears burning, ready to drop. “Kyle, don’t.”

“You’re right. I’m going about this all wrong. I need to start with an apology. Caitlin, I’m sorry. Sorry I kissed you—”

She cut him off by putting a finger to his lips. “Please, just don’t say it.” She couldn’t let him sully her memory of their one perfect kiss with his regret.

Kyle twisted away from her touch. “I’m sorry I kissed you and then stopped. I’m sorry I let my father ruin the best kiss of my entire life. I’m sorry I ruined the night.”

Did he really say what she thought he said? It didn’t make sense. “I understand,” she said in a whisper.

“Funny, because I don’t understand. I can’t understand how I missed seeing that side of you for all these years. What I really can’t get is how I didn’t realize I was head over heels in love with you.”

“What?” It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t declare his love and then go off and marry another woman, would he?

“I’ve been an idiot. A jackass. A blind jerk who took for granted the most wonderful woman in the world. That’s why I asked you to meet me here.”

“I still don’t understand.” For a woman with a freshly minted master’s degree, it was shocking how her vocabulary had dwindled to so few words.

“A very wise person once told me a Christmas proposal would be romantic.” He looked at his watch, then looked at the ceiling. Moments later, soft flakes of snow began to fall. Kyle reached behind to the Christmas tree. He pulled a red-and-green braided ribbon off the bottom bough and dropped to one knee.

“Caitlin McIntyre, you are my entire world. I love you. I can’t be happy without you by my side. I used my highly scientific brain to deduce the best way to keep you there is to make you my wife.” He held up the ribbon braid so she could see the diamond ring dangling from its length. “Will you marry me?”

Caitlin swallowed hard, fighting to speak while still holding back the deluge of tears threatening to unleash. How could he put her in such a difficult position? There could only be one answer. “No.”

He blinked rapidly several times. “Okay, I get it. Just so you know, I plan on groveling for several months straight, as penance for asking you to help me propose to another woman. I’ll do the dishes. I’ll do the laundry. I’ll rub your feet. I’ll apologize till I’m blue in the face. And did I mention I’ve been an idiotic jerk?”

She laced her fingers together to keep from reaching out, from touching him one last time. God, he was adorable and sweet and so, so hard to resist. But she loved him too much to let him make this big a mistake. “Kyle, I can’t marry you. I can’t let you destroy your family ties, or your career. You have to marry Monica.”

“Actually, I don’t. Dad’s orders.”

“I...don’t understand?”

A cocky grin lifted the sides of the lips she now knew to be firm and talented. “I crashed the board meeting this morning. Told them flat out I refused to marry Monica. Didn’t know her father was in the room, or I would’ve phrased it a little differently. All hell broke loose there, for a while. But I stood my ground. And then the most amazing thing happened. Dad backed me up.”

Caitlin could hardly believe it. “Backed you out of the room, you mean?”

Kyle laughed. “Not this time. He said he was impressed that I’d finally stood up to him, stood up for myself. Said it showed true Lockhart backbone. Then he announced if the merger couldn’t happen without the marriage, it wouldn’t happen it all.”

“So the merger’s off?” The crowds streaming past, the snow still falling—all of it blurred out of focus. Her senses narrowed to Kyle, his deep voice and his aquamarine eyes full of hope.

“Yup. LTS will be fine. Dad’s always got more than one plan in the hopper. We lost a partner, but I finally got Dad’s respect. Which means there’s only one thing left I want for Christmas.”

“What’s that?”

“You.” He took her left hand and held the ring up to her finger. The carolers switched to “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” “You’ve always been my best friend. Hell, maybe I’ve always been a little bit in love with you. But now I know I love you, and that I’ll always love you. Through light and dark, through laughter and tears, through passion and pain. My love will never dim, will never waver. It can’t, for the simple reason that you are my soul mate.” He slid the ring to her first knuckle. “Give me a merry Christmas. Give me your love.”

Caitlin slid her finger the rest of the way through the ring. Even through her tears of joy she could see the large, shining diamond flanked by two emeralds. “I don’t know, Kyle. If you give me this ring now, how on earth will you top it on Christmas morning?”

He stood and drew her into his arms. “Well, I’ll start by telling you that I love you.”

“That’s the only present I need. I love you, Kyle. Yes, I’ll marry you.” She smiled up at the snow frosting his hair, and the tree lights shimmering behind him. Vaguely she registered the cheers and clapping from the other museum guests. “See, I told you. If you ask her at Christmas, then your girl will say
yes
.”

* * * * *