Be Mine at Christmas (5 page)

“Impetuous?” he echoed. “She was the most sexually aggressive girl I’ve ever met!”

“She had a terrible crush on you.”

“Calling it a crush makes it sound normal,” he muttered. “It was more like an obsession.”

“I know. I tried to get her to leave you alone. So did her mother. She wouldn’t listen. She never listened—to
anyone.
”

The bits and pieces he could recall began to filter through his mind. “I remember seeing her at the party when I arrived,” he said. “You were there, too. She asked me to dance, followed me around. The typical stuff. I was annoyed, but not too worried, you know?”

“Yes.”

“It was Danielle’s mother’s birthday,” he
explained. “She’d gone out to dinner with her parents and was supposed to meet me later. I can still hear the music, see the people. Someone offered me a beer, but I knew I’d be driving her home that night and said no.”

“Is that all you remember?” she prompted when he stopped.

“No. I remember the way Stephanie was touching me, my eagerness to let her. What doesn’t make sense is
why
I did what I did. Things got out of control, and I didn’t seem to care. Then, in the middle of everything, I’m lying naked on the bed, and Danielle’s staring down at me, screaming and crying. Stephanie’s there, too, holding the sheets to her bare chest and smiling smugly, as if she’d
wanted
us to be caught.”

“I’m sure she did. That would’ve suited her purpose.”

How manipulative was that? He shook his head in disgust. “She told Danielle I’d just
made love
to her, when, regardless of what happened, there was no love involved, and she knew it.” He winced at the memory of Danielle vomiting afterward.

“Anyway, I couldn’t deny it,” he went on, embarrassed all over again. “I really had…you know. But, for the life of me, I can’t figure out why I didn’t stop. I would never have hurt Danielle that way. I’d had plenty of opportunities to be with Stephanie, if that was what I wanted.”

“Did you eat any brownies?”

“Is that where it was?” he asked.

Angela nodded.

“What was it, exactly?”

“Betty’s sleeping pills.”

“
Sleeping
pills?”

“They were strong. Because of her aches and pains, the doctor prescribed some sedatives. Stephanie simply stole a few from the medicine cabinet and mixed them in when she frosted a couple of the brownies she brought to the party.”

“The ones she made for me.”

“Yes.”

He considered Angela for several long moments. He was relieved to finally have his suspicions confirmed, to know he really wasn’t the callous jerk everyone had thought he was.

But that raised another question, one that seemed far more important now than it ever had before. “Did you know what she was planning before you went to the party? Did you help her?”

“No. I only knew that she had hopes of getting with you. She said you’d ‘be hers’ by morning. But she always talked like that. I didn’t realize, until she admitted it the next day, that she’d drugged you.”

He sighed. “I’m just glad she didn’t get pregnant. Can you imagine? It would’ve ruined my life.”

She said nothing.

“Angela?”

“That would have been terrible,” she said quietly.

He chuckled without mirth. “I don’t know many guys who’ve had to worry about being seduced against their will, especially at sixteen. Do you?”

“Stephanie was determined. When she wanted something, she stopped at nothing to have it.”

He studied her carefully, wondering why she was keeping him at arm’s length. “What about you?” he asked.

“What about me?”

“What do you do when you want something?”

She gazed up at the tree. “I try to think about how it’ll affect others.”

He knew her answer was significant. He just didn’t know in what way.

“S
O…DO YOU LIKE HIM
?” As soon as they reached their room, Kayla sat cross-legged on the end of Angela’s bed and smiled eagerly, obviously expecting a girl-to-girl chat.

“He’s nice,” Angela replied, trying not to sound too enthusiastic.

“Just
nice?
”

Angela stepped into the bathroom to undress. “No, he’s cute, too.”

“Oh, my gosh!” she called back. “Cute? He’s like…Jake Gyllenhaal. Are you blind? I sat in there watching stupid television shows so you could be alone, and now you’re telling me he’s
cute?
”

“When I said he had a nice butt, you told on me,” Angela accused, trying to put Kayla on the defensive.

But when Angela emerged in her pajamas, she found Kayla stretched out on the bed, grinning unrepentantly. “Yeah, but he liked hearing it. He hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off you since.”

Angela’s head hurt from all the conflicting emotions. When she’d first decided to return to Virginia City, she’d expected to find Matt happily
married with a few kids. She couldn’t show up on a man’s doorstep, a man who had a wife and children, and tell him he had another daughter he’d never even heard about. Not when the child had been conceived the way Kayla had. He wasn’t responsible for what had happened, so how could she justify disrupting his life and the lives of those he loved? Knowing she couldn’t do that had made her feel safe. She’d come here to put to rest the unsettling “what if” scenarios that had plagued her, even before she’d read Kayla’s essay. She’d wanted to validate the decisions that had been made in the past and gather more strength and determination to continue with things as they were.

Now she didn’t know what to do. She’d never bargained on Matt’s being single. Neither had she guessed that she’d be so attracted to him. Their interest in each other confused an already difficult issue. But with or without Kayla, she saw little chance that what they felt would ever turn into a committed, long-term relationship. They were both single at twenty-nine. That had to say something about them. Her life and her business were in Denver; his were here in Virginia City.

She wouldn’t tell him, she decided. Not yet. She didn’t know him well enough. Besides, as much as Kayla thought she wanted a father, Angela wasn’t sure the sudden upheaval and total change of situation would be good for her.

And yet…she felt guilty for keeping the secret. How could she deny Kayla the chance to know the man who’d fathered her? Especially when Angela had discovered it was Kayla’s deepest desire?

Smothering a sigh, Angela sat next to Kayla on the bed.
What would be best for this girl?
She’d promised Betty she’d never tell. But Betty had only been trying to right Stephanie’s wrong, to make sure others wouldn’t be hurt by it. When Betty had asked Angela for that promise, she’d been assuming Matt wouldn’t
want
to know he had a daughter.

Now, Angela wasn’t so sure. “What do you think of him?” she asked and tried to listen beyond the actual words.

“I think he’s great,” Kayla said. “Perfect.”

“In what ways?” she prodded.

“He listens when we talk. He’s patient and funny.”

“We’ve only known him a couple of days,” Angela said.

“That doesn’t matter. He won’t change.”

Angela pulled Kayla into an embrace. She thought the same thing. But she had to be positive. And, as she stroked the girl’s hair, she couldn’t help wondering—was Matt ready for the shock of his life?

C
HRISTMAS WAS IN FOUR DAYS
and Matt hadn’t bought a single present. He was reminded of that when his mother called him at work the following morning.

“You’re coming to the gift exchange, right?” she said.

He rolled away from his desk and locked his hands behind his head, stretching his aching back. He’d been doing paperwork since he’d arrived at seven, and it was nearly noon. “Why aren’t we having the party on Christmas Eve?” he asked.

“Because your uncle Jim’s leaving for New York. He and Don have wanted to see the city for years, and that’s their Christmas present to each other.”

“I see. So…” Matt rummaged through the stacks of papers on his desk to unearth his calendar. “When is it again?”

“Tomorrow night. At seven.”

“Okay. I’ll be there.” He jotted it down and started to hang up, but his mother was still talking.

“And do not have that friend of yours make Grandma any more eggnog,” she said.

He lifted the phone back to his ear. “Why not? She likes it.”

“It gives her gas.”

“Then why does she ask me for it?”

“The taste. Haven’t you ever liked something that wasn’t good for you?”

He was beginning to wonder if Angela fit into that category.

“You know how stubborn she is,” his mom added.

“What else should I get her?”

“What about one of those firemen calendars you and the other guys posed for?” It had been a local effort to raise money for burn victims.

“You’re joking, right? What would an eighty-year-old woman want with pictures of me and a bunch of other half-naked firemen?”

“She likes Lewis.”

“
Lewis?
”

“She says you’re never too old to pretend.”

He kneaded his forehead. “Mom, that’s not creating an appealing mental picture.”

“You’re not the only one who likes sex in this family,” she said. “Your father and I—”

“Mom! Stop!”

“Have always been crazy for each other,” she finished. “Oh, and bring some calendars for your aunt. She wants to give a few of them away.”

“I’ve got to go,” he said.

“When are you planning to do your shopping?”

He scowled. “How do you know I haven’t done it already?”

“Because you always wait till the last minute. You need a wife, Matthew.”

“You’ve been saying that for years.”

“And you’ve been ignoring me for just as long. You think I want to die without grandkids?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re barely fifty-five.”

“And I feel every year of it. Your brother and his wife say they don’t want children. Can you imagine that? You’re my one hope, and you haven’t had a steady girlfriend in years.” She hung up, sounding thoroughly disgusted but, after a few seconds, Matt called her back.

“Can I bring a couple of people to the party?”

“Lewis and his family?”

“No. A woman and her daughter.”

There was an intrigued silence. “You’ve never brought a woman to the gift exchange before. Do I know her?”

“She used to go to school with me. Now she lives in Denver.”

“
Really…
Would she ever consider moving here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Has she seen the calendar?”

He waved as one of the guys called out to him from his open door. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Bring an extra one just in case,” she said and disconnected.

P
ULLING HER MINISKIRT
down as far as it could go—to mollify Angela’s nosy neighbors, two of whom were staring out their windows at her—Stephanie promised the cab driver that she’d pay him in a second and hurried up the walk. The house looked empty, and there was a For Sale sign in front, but Stephanie could see that the furniture was still in the living room. Angela might be planning to move, but she hadn’t done it yet.

Her barely there sweater was more effective at attracting customers than keeping her warm, but she wrapped it around herself as well as she could and knocked on the door. Meanwhile, she could feel the neighbors’ eyes boring holes in her back. A cab in this exclusive area drew too much attention. She should’ve had the driver drop her at the corner so she could walk, but he probably wouldn’t have done it anyway. He didn’t want to let her too far out of his sight; she hadn’t paid him yet.

No one came to the door. “She’s got my kid. But do you think she’d give me a number or tell me where the hell they’re at?” she grumbled. She knew she’d made Angela mad the last time they’d seen
each other. After that, her friend’s numbers had all changed without warning. But Stephanie hadn’t wanted the help Angela had offered. She could live her own life, thank you very much.

Glancing at the waiting taxi, she waved to reassure him and hurried around to the gate. She felt jittery, shaky, ill—and she knew it wasn’t related to the bronchitis she’d had for over a week. She needed some junk before her symptoms got worse. But if she couldn’t get inside the damn house, how was she going to get any money?

The back door was locked as tight as the front. Stephanie could see a single light shining in the living room, the typical “sorry, we’re not home but don’t want you to know it” light, and considered breaking a window. She didn’t have any choice, did she? She had to get in, find a few bucks and get out. Before the neighbors could stop her.

Her mind was fixated on the quarters and dimes Angie threw in a big jar on a shelf in her closet. There had to be thirty, forty bucks in there.

Angie didn’t need it. She never used it. Stephanie knew that was all it would take to carry her through the night. It’d be different if she’d been able to work. But what man wanted to pay for a woman with a raging fever and a hacking cough?

Finding a rock in the planter area next to the French doors, she bent to pick it up. But her hand was shaking so badly she could hardly lift it, and by the time she’d managed, the man from next door was standing less than ten feet away.

“Can I help you, miss?”

She dropped the rock and ducked her head so he couldn’t see the black eye she’d sustained from a particularly rough customer four days earlier. “Angie, she—she’s my friend. She said I could borrow forty bucks, to—to come on over and get it. But I—I got a cab waiting out front. And she’s not here.”

“She told you to come over.”

It wasn’t a question. He was looking down his nose at her, like all the other rich bastards in this neighborhood.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” She knew her voice had grown belligerent, but she couldn’t seem to control it any more than she could control the shaking. She couldn’t think straight. The terrible need inside her was eating her up….

“But that couldn’t possibly be true,” he replied. “As you can see, the house is closed up. She’s gone for the holidays.”

Gone for the holidays?
Angie never went anywhere for the holidays.

“She—she said she’d give me forty bucks,” Stephanie insisted.

“I think maybe you should seek a shelter and some professional help,” he said.

Finally, she faced him squarely. “Listen, buddy, I—I’ll give you a blow job right here for twenty bucks,” she whispered. “I’ll do anything else you want for forty.”

He didn’t take her up on her offer. He shook his head sadly, reached into his wallet and gave her the money.

A
NGELA WAS PRETTY SURE
that attending Matt’s family’s Christmas party was not a good idea. She would’ve said no—except that he’d asked Kayla first. And Kayla had, of course, immediately accepted. Kayla was playing cupid. She liked being around Matt. A lot.

“Matt told us you two went to school together,” Ben, Matt’s father, said after they’d been ushered in and offered a drink. He was doing his best to make her feel comfortable.

Angela glanced over at Matt, who stood by the punch bowl. He was talking to his brother and sister-in-law, who’d come from Reno, and a couple of uncles or cousins. Angela had been introduced to everyone, but Matt had such a big family, she was starting to lose track of who they were and how they all fit in. “That’s right. I lived with Betty Cunningham.”

Matt’s dad was an older version of Matt, except there was gray mixed in with his dark blond hair, and he had brown eyes. Matt’s mother was almost as tall as his father, and significantly overweight, but she was jovial and warm.

“Betty was a wonderful person,” Ben said. “Loved jewelry. Came down to the store often.”

Angela liked the rustic log home Matt’s father had built. A mile or so from town, it was cut into Mount Davidson, like the other homes and businesses in the area, and smelled of the fire crackling in the hearth. Scrupulously clean and well-decorated in rustic browns and reds, it had a wall of windows in front. The Christmas tree stood before
the windows, reaching all the way to the center beam of the polished wooden ceiling, its lights reflecting in the glass. Angela guessed that in the daytime, the Jacksons had a lovely view of the Como Mountains.

“I miss her,” she admitted. Somehow, the hustle and bustle of the party and the easy camaraderie between all these people only added to Angela’s sense of isolation.

“Your daughter is such a nice girl.” Sherry, Matt’s mother, joined them now that she’d finished whatever errand had sent her scurrying to the kitchen with Kayla as soon as she and Angela had arrived.

“Thank you.”

“I’ve got her decorating cookies with my sister’s kids,” she confided. “She’s a natural.”

“I’m sure she’ll like that.” Angela caught Matt watching her. She smiled as if she were having a good time, but she wasn’t. She didn’t want to be here. This showed her what Kayla could have—without her.

“W
HAT’S WRONG
?” Matt asked.

Angela had left the party and stepped onto the extensive deck that wrapped around his parents’ home. A chill wind was blowing—possibly the beginning of the storm Peggy McGinness had predicted—but there was a full moon and when he came up next to her, he could see the snow glistening far below. It was beautiful. But not half as beautiful as the woman staring forlornly down at it.

She glanced over at him. “Nothing, I just…needed some fresh air.”

“Are you overwhelmed by the crowd?”

“No,” she said, but when she met his knowing gaze, she instantly recanted. “Yes.”

He chuckled with her. “You get used to the chaos.”

“They’re great. You’re very lucky.”

He knew he shouldn’t touch her. He’d promised himself he’d take the relationship more slowly, so she wouldn’t rebuff him again. But she looked so lost standing there, he couldn’t help trying to comfort her, include her. Moving behind her, he gripped the wooden railing, penning her between his arms. He was hoping she’d lean back and let him hold her, but she didn’t. “They really like Kayla,” he said.