That Mistletoe Moment (10 page)

Reaching her, he unbuttoned his suit jacket before straddling the stool across from her. He rested his elbows on the table. Steepled his fingers. He felt a moment of concern. “I've now met the three applicants you selected for personal shopper.”

“And?” She looked at him expectantly.

“Two were strong contenders. One, I'm not so certain.”

“Who didn't work for you?”

“Riley Tyler.”

“Ah, I see. I should've told you beforehand that Riley was fourth on my short list of shoppers. The lady ahead of her was offered a job at Saks Fifth Avenue. She jumped at the opportunity. I'd promised you three applicants. Riley rose to fill her slot.”

That made sense, Daniel thought. He might never have met Riley had the third woman not found employment elsewhere. His chest tightened. Inexplicably.

“Do you plan to cut Riley before receiving her Christmas gift?” she questioned.

Presenting him with a gift had been Georgia's idea. To see which lady's taste matched his own. Georgia believed a lot could be revealed about a woman on a shopping spree, spending someone else's money. The gift would indicate how each perceived him.

“By the way,” she noted, “Janine in Accounting just sent me an e-mail. Lauren and Caroline picked up their debit cards. No sign of Riley.”

Puzzling, and mildly disappointing. “Perhaps the position didn't interest her after all and she walked away,” he said.

“Riley was polite at the initial interview,” Georgia pointed out. “I think she'd call if she'd crossed you off her list.”

Crossed
him
off? That didn't set well. “Can you contact her? See if she's coming back?”

“Of course, but only if she's a true contender for the position. Otherwise, why get her hopes up?”

Why, indeed? Because he'd like to see her again, as odd as that seemed. “She's qualified, otherwise you wouldn't have scored her at four. Confirm, please.”

“Will do. She fit your qualifications. Although her experience is with kids, not adults. Good references. Clean background check. Stable, she's lived in Saint Paul all her life. She has her own transportation for running errands. Most importantly, she has a boyfriend.”

“She does?” he blurted, then wished he could recall his words. His curiosity had gotten the better of him. He sounded interested.

Georgia didn't judge. She merely repeated his rule. “ ‘No inner office dating. Relationships take away from company time.' Rumor has it that Sandra Rule, Senior Policy Advisor, Regulatory Affairs, is involved with Donald Walsh, an engineer in Network Operations. I've yet to confirm or catch them having sex in the copier room. Until I do, I won't pry into their private lives.”

He ran one hand down his face. “Ignore the gossip.” Both executives were exceptional. Career-minded and valued. He'd hate to replace them.

Georgia eyed him, inquired, “Do you ever regret firing Judith?”

“I haven't given her a second thought.”

Judith Evans had been his previous personal shopper. They'd worked well together for four years, up until the previous week, when she'd confessed her love for him. He hadn't seen it coming, hadn't realized she cared. He'd never led her on. His life consisted of sixteen-hour workdays. He had little time for socializing, unless it was business-related.

Floored, and unable to return her feelings, he'd tried to let her down easy. She'd shouted. Cried. Stomped her feet. Here was a side of her he'd never expected. It hadn't been pretty. Scary, actually.

In the end, he'd given her three months' severance pay. Offered a reference. Then left for a Chamber of Commerce luncheon. He'd expected her to clear her desk while he was away, and be gone when he returned.

She'd left alright, but only after taking scissors to the twenty suits in his executive closet, located off his office. Shirts were torn. Buttons flew like bullets. Ties, shredded. His wingtips and loafers, stabbed. Fortunately, there was no blood. Security had removed her from the premises. He'd taken out a restraining order on her.

He was in desperate need of a new wardrobe.

Despite the fact he could bring countries together for an economic summit, shopping for clothes went beyond his comfort zone. Mixing and matching colors confused him. Ridiculous, he knew. If it was up to him, he could wear the same suit every day of the week, identical white shirt, different tie, and be happy with his wardrobe. It wasn't to be. His father had set high standards to which Daniel and his administrators adhered. They projected a polished public image.

Truth be told, he was embarrassed by his lack of style, and the fact that he needed someone to help pull his act together. He hoped to hire a new personal shopper by tomorrow afternoon.

“You'll meet with the ladies once more,” said Georgia, “for the presentation of your gifts. Hopefully one will stand out from the others.”

He hoped so, too.

They sat quietly. She sipped her tea. He stared into space. Until Georgia asked, “How are your parents?”

Daniel grew thoughtful. Franklin and Lenore had met forty years ago at an art exhibition, where she was the artist. His dad courted and charmed her by buying every painting on display. He'd won her heart. In the early days, they had loved beyond measure. An ideal marriage.

Until Franklin took success as his mistress. His days were long and his time limited. He withdrew into the city. He took over the office next door, and turned it into an efficiency apartment. Small but comfortable, it was perfect for early business meetings. No commute.

After Daniel was born, Franklin pushed himself even harder. Mother and son needed him, but Franklin was too busy to notice. He never took a vacation. Celebrated few holidays. Daniel grew up the man of the house. Responsibility weighed heavily through his youth and teenage years. Under his father's wing, Daniel learned from the best. He interned at Global Financiers during high school, then college, attending the University of Minnesota. Franklin pushed Daniel as his own father had pushed him. Nose to the grindstone. Visible at the corporate forefront. There was little time for extracurricular activities. For fun.

A corporate mastermind, Franklin maximized investments and shareholder value. Achievement was the measure of his life. No one was more admired, respected, or accomplished in the world of finance. Daniel walked in his footsteps.

He matched Franklin's vision and wisdom, until dementia stole his father's awareness and weakened his body. Franklin returned home. He presently had round-the-clock nursing care, and a wife who sat by his bedside and held his hand. She read to him. Shared photo albums and memories long past. She protected him.

“My mother is my father's strength,” he told Georgia. “Dad forgets more than he remembers, but he still recognizes her. Me, too, on a good day. He sporadically comments on the early years of their marriage.” Decades less complicated.

She understood. “Life is tricky. Reality fades, and the past feels safe. A gentler time, perhaps.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, the unspoken communication of two people who knew each other well. “Christmas,” she finally initiated.

“What about it?”

“It's two weeks away. I've had several people inquire about decorations. We hang wreaths on office doors each year, but it's been ages since we've decked the hall, trimmed a tree.”

The idea and her enthusiasm surprised him. He shrugged. “Fine by me. Who plans to take charge?”

“No one's volunteered.” Pause. “I'm suggesting your personal shopper. Once she's gotten you ready for your business trip to London next week, she can turn her attention to decorating. The job description for personal shopper extends to ‘duties specified by employer.' ” She made finger quotes. “Those duties could include holiday decorations, Secret Santa, and the office party.”

Daniel narrowed his gaze. “You came up with this—when?”

“Crossed my mind with my second cup of tea.”

“The caffeine kicked in.”

She took a last sip of orange pekoe, and wrapped up. “Let me know which one of the applicants you hire tomorrow, Mr. Hayes. The employment forms are filled out. I only need insert a name. I'll be curious.”

He pushed off the stool, stood. “No more curious than I am.”

CHAPTER 2

R
iley Tyler entered Lattetude, a gourmet coffee shop and bakery within the same block as Hayes Global Financiers. She sought a caffeine boost, and ordered a double espresso from the barista. Added a merry-berry scone. She looked around for a place to sit. Found a table near the window. Once seated, she shrugged off her wool coat and watched the traffic pass. The snow fall. Professionals from the financial district drifted in and out, pink cheeked and red nosed. Fat, fluttery flakes whitened their cashmere and leather coats. Slush marred their designer boots.

Finance was a world unto itself, she thought. She'd gone brain-dead when Daniel spoke extensively about his company. Economics, investments, funding—it made her eyes cross. Figures and the future were not her strong suit. She was lucky to balance her checkbook. Most times, she deducted the amount of a check by rounding up. Five dollars and forty cents became six dollars. She was then sixty cents ahead, and never overdrawn.

She'd applied for the personal shopper position, not a job in finance. She was a realist. Her chances were slim to none that Daniel would hire her. Lauren and Caroline were stiff competition. She took a bite of her scone, brushed the crumbs off the front of her sweater. A too-big sip of espresso burned the tip of her tongue. She reached for her glass of ice water, drank deeply. Cooled her mouth. Then returned her thoughts to the day ahead.

She had two projects to accomplish. A boyfriend came first. Daniel's Christmas gift second. She sighed heavily.

Georgia in Personnel had digressed into conversation during the interview. She'd mentioned that Daniel kept his work relationships formal, hinted that he preferred a candidate who was not single. Needing the job, Riley had managed to drop the mention of a boyfriend into their talk.

Now her options were few. She hadn't seriously dated for several months. And she couldn't think of a friend who would play the part of suitor.

One idea came to mind, though, outlandish as it seemed at first. The Build-A-Boyfriend app. She'd recently seen it advertised online. She could create a make-believe man for a mere twenty-four dollars and ninety-five cents a month. His hair, eye color, and career fell to her imagination.

He would pursue her, without personal involvement. She could schedule his texts, an occasional voice mail. Flowers, a gift or two, could arrive by courier. Their involvement would last only as long as she needed him. Cancelation of the app was the perfect breakup. There'd be no broken hearts.

She dug her iPhone from her purse. She glanced about to make sure no one was looking, then located and downloaded the app. She made her selections. The setup took longer than she'd expected. After reviewing her choices, she realized she'd portrayed Daniel as her ideal man. That shook her a little. She barely knew him. She went back and altered several details.

On further reflection, she smiled to herself. She'd made her match. A blond-haired, green-eyed pediatrician from Saint Paul. Andrew Reynolds traveled with Doctors Without Borders, an international medical humanitarian organization that worked in more than sixty countries, and treated people with the greatest need. He was as believable as a pretend physician could be. Gentle, kind, dedicated, and ministering abroad.

She breathed easier now. It was time to move on. She needed to select Daniel's gift. She'd left Landmark Tower minutes after Caroline and Lauren. She'd stood on the sidewalk and watched them cross at the light, then part ways. Caroline entered Luxe Jewelry and Lauren went into Organza Gallery, which specialized in fine art, pottery, and sculpture. Expensive and cultured gifts.

Riley pushed back her chair, stood. She slipped on her coat. The bottom button was loose, ready to fall off. She'd sew it tonight. She tossed her trash in the recyclable bin, and walked toward the door. Her thoughts returned to the CEO and his office suite. She visualized his desk, the world globe, the photo of his family's compound, the bookshelves, the—

Intuition struck, and she immediately knew what to buy.

It felt right. Perfect, actually.

She hoped he would see it that way, too.

* * *

The next afternoon arrived with a blustery wind that nearly knocked her off her feet. The snowfall thickened. A blizzard warning had been issued. The windshield wipers on Riley's MINI Cooper were set on high, but barely kept the window clear. Her car was a lightweight in a land of Hummers and four-wheel-drive SUVs.

Holding the steering wheel in a death grip, she cautiously entered the Landmark Towers parking garage and drove up six flights before finding a spot. She popped the trunk and dragged out a large box. Daniel's gift. Sections of the cement were slippery, and it became a balancing act to walk and hold on to the box. She took the elevator to the thirtieth floor.

She'd called ahead and purposely arrived an hour early, 3 p.m. Requiring access to his suite, she conspired with a reluctant Roxanne, who indicated Daniel was away, meeting with investment bankers. He wouldn't return until four.

Riley had an hour to set up her present.

Roxanne's eyes widened at her choice.

Riley could only hope she'd selected wisely.

Ready, set, go. Once Riley finished, Roxanne directed her to the conference room. Down the hall, and on the right. The door was glass, revealing an enormous rectangular table, brown leather chairs, a coffee station, and water cooler. Caroline and Lauren preceded her, their Christmas presents expertly wrapped and placed at the head of the table. They sat on either side of the CEO's chair of distinguished black leather. Riley wandered to the far end, distancing herself from the competition.

The women had slipped off their coats. They were so impeccably dressed, they could've been mannequins in Lord & Taylor's store window. Riley kept her coat on. She'd decided there was no point in taking it off; it was almost certain Daniel would dismiss her.

He arrived at four sharp. The man was prompt. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted them, his voice deep, hoarse, as if he'd contracted a cold. He sneezed, confirming the diagnosis. He shrugged off his coat and sat stiffly in a dark gray suit, white shirt, and black tie. Professional, but drab. He drew a breath, made eye contact with each applicant. He raised his eyebrow at Riley, requesting a reason for her sitting down the table.

“I don't want to catch your cold,” she improvised.

“I just arrived. How'd you know I even had one?”

“The box of tissues.”

His expression was unreadable.

A moment later, Georgia from Personnel knocked and entered. She passed him a chunky ceramic mug. “Hot green tea, lemon, and honey. I didn't remember you having a handkerchief. Tissues, as needed.” She left.

Daniel's face softened for half a second. He appeared appreciative of her concern for his health. The water steamed, and the tea bag steeped. The air was scented with the aroma of lemons.

“The weather is worsening,” he informed them. “Let's get down to business. I will open my gifts, and hire one of you. In advance, I thank you for the time, thought, and effort you put into choosing the presents.”

“Mine first,” requested Caroline. Seated on the edge of her chair, she leaned forward and nudged the silver foil box toward him.

Riley noticed her long fingers, a pianist's hand. Mauve polished her nails. Also long. Lovely and feminine. Riley's own nails were buffed and filed short. She hadn't wanted to accidentally poke a child while working at Baby Gap. Toddlers squirmed when trying on clothes. She'd like to grow her nails out now.

Anticipation collected in the room as Daniel slowly unwrapped his first gift. Lauren seemed especially interested in what Caroline had chosen, probably hoping it wouldn't trump her own. Riley sat back, kept to herself. Since money was no object, she assumed the gifts were expensive.

She was right. Daniel now palmed a satin Rolex box. Inside, timeless luxury. A watch designed for professionals and serious travelers. To be worn on formal occasions.

In Riley's mind, the watch didn't quite fit the man. He was handsome, polished, yes, but if she looked beneath the surface, he had rugged depth. She might have gone with a sportier style. A Tag Heuer, with black dial, compass, stainless steel, wide leather band. Adventuresome. That was her opinion only. Perhaps she'd misjudged him.

The look on Daniel's face showed appreciation of Caroline's gift. He seemed satisfied. The corners of his eyes crinkled. His lips tipped, pleased, but he didn't fully smile.

“Thank you,” he acknowledged, a man of few words.

Lauren gave him her gift next. The opaque wrap revealed something tall, narrow, and shiny. She beamed, believing her gift would outshine the others.

Riley leaned back in her chair and watched as Daniel took longer than was necessary with the wrapping. He had big, strong hands. His motions firm and decisive, he lowered the opaque paper. So slowly, time seemed to stop. Lost in the reveal, she forgot herself. She became in tune with him. Sensation fluttered in her belly. Her imagination took hold. Mental foreplay. He stroked her. Undressed her. Down to skin.

Her breathing deepened; her stomach was tied in a sexual knot. She shivered, shook herself, embarrassed. Shifting on her chair, she bumped her knees beneath the table, drawing his attention.

He raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Everything okay down there?”

“I was merely trying to get a better look at the sculpture,” she assured him. It was magnificent. A sleek marble configuration of a couple entwined. Intimately.

“It's a VanValdi,” Lauren said. “
The Mating
.”

Riley recognized the Swedish sculptor. She'd seen the titled piece on display in the window at Organza. A prestigious purchase. Unique. Costly. She thought the gift far too personal for a man they barely knew, one who was to be a boss not a boyfriend. It was unsettling.

Daniel ran his hands over the marble, and Riley once again felt his touch. Goose bumps rose on her arms and chest. She was thankful for her coat. It covered her tingles.

He took a sip of his tea, approved the gift. “There's never enough beauty in the world. An intriguing sculpture. Thank you.”

Lauren and Caroline were all smiles, each believing her present would win her the coveted position of personal shopper. Their gifts were extravagant, with astronomical price tags. They hadn't minded spending his money, whereas Riley had stuck to a modest budget. She'd spent eighteen dollars and forty-two cents at Value Mart. Her gift had been on sale.

Daniel eyed her now. “Are we waiting for Santa?” he asked her, wondering about his gift.

“I've yet to hear the
click-click-click
of reindeer hooves on the roof,” she returned.

“I hope they didn't get waylaid by the incoming snowstorm.”

She couldn't put him off any longer. “I believe I heard them in your office.”

“Not much room for a sleigh and eight reindeer.”

“Nine, including Rudolph.”

“My office then?” He finished off his tea, stood. He held the chairs for her competition. They picked up their presents. Riley got up on her own, circled the table, and left ahead of them.

Momentarily awkward, she tugged her coat about her, safeguarding her feelings. What she'd originally thought a great gift now seemed insignificant, even inappropriate, compared to those already given. Daniel had told them to buy a present that represented the way they saw him. She had. She wondered if he'd see himself the same way.

Roxanne was clearing her desk when they arrived. She shut down her computer. “Whiteout conditions are forecasted,” she told them. “Security wants the floor cleared within the hour. I'm heading home now.”

“We're not far behind you,” Daniel assured her.

Roxanne looked pointedly at Riley. “The lights are dimmed. The switch flipped. Go on in.”

Daniel reached around her, opened the door. They stepped inside. Approached his desk. Clickety-clack,
woo-woo,
the North Pole plastic holiday train ran a figure-eight track on his desktop. Santa engineered the battery-operated express that pulled three passenger cars packed with presents and a red caboose. Tiny lights flashed at the railroad crossing. The decorative village included a general store, church, post office, and station house.

Silence held sway in the darkened office. No one made a comment. Riley's stomach sank. Had she made a mistake? Had she read Daniel wrong? Intuition had pushed her to buy the train. Her gut feelings were never wrong. Not until today.

She swallowed hard, waited for someone to say something. Anything. Good or bad.

Caroline spoke first, her tone scoffing. “A train set? Really?”

Lauren gave a nervous laugh. “Is this a joke?”

Riley bit down on her bottom lip. “I thought it appropriate,” she replied, her voice barely audible. The train had seemed a good idea—yesterday.

Lauren's lips twisted. “Suitable for whom? A six-year-old?”

Daniel edged closer to Riley. He stood so close, she felt his body heat, breathed in his cologne. He tensed up slightly, but his expression wasn't disapproving. She took a chance, looked up as he looked down; their gazes locked. Damage done, she awaited his criticism. Which never came.

“Six or sixty, trains are timeless,” he said, commending her gift. “Nice choice.”

* * *

Daniel felt a pit open up in his stomach. Almost painful. A heartbeat later his chest warmed. For a split second, he recaptured his boyhood. A youth that seemed all too distant and short-lived. He'd been an only child in a formal household. His father had encouraged maturity in him early on.