His Naughty List Page 4

  Right there and then in his office, I decided I’d stay working for him until after the party. A bitter and mischievous thought ran through my mind. There was no reason to quit when there was a chance I could meet my Christmas Prince at the party, or failing that a millionaire bachelor. I’d show him! Once at the party I could make my own connections, and let him see exactly what he was missing out on.

  Besides, if worst came to worst, I had the list. For the first time in history, I felt like I had some semblance of power tucked away in my back pocket. I had power over him. One visit to HR and he’d be in a lot of trouble. That sort of thing could get a person into a lot of trouble, but it was better to think that I was staying by choice rather than financial obligation.

  “Well, Miss Reynolds?”

  “Fine.” I nodded. “Don’t expect me to like it though.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t be so sure of that.”

  I bristled and had to restrain myself. “Whatever. I’m going to go get lunch,” I said, raising the notebook, wanting nothing more than to use it to slap him with. I began to make my exit when he stopped me.

  “Wait!”

  My stomach dropped, and I thought perhaps Tommy had realized I’d taken the other list and was about to admonish me.

  Instead, he pulled his car keys out of his pocket and chucked them to me from across the room. I scrambled to catch them but managed.

  “Use mine. It’s cold out there, and we can’t risk your car not starting and getting in the way of lunch. I’m hungry. Be quick.” He smiled a devilish smile.

  Oh, I hated him. Now he was insulting my car? I thought of saying something but couldn’t find the words. I just wanted to scream at him. I resorted instead to glare at him with a deathly stare and left. Maybe he’d find a slug in his lunch salad.

  Chapter 6

  That Friday, I came into work anxious and on edge. It was the day of the party, and in addition to a full workday, I still had to find something to wear and get ready to mingle with millionaires. Liv had been beside herself with excitement, but I had woken up with sweaty palms and a chin pimple. Great.

  As usual, a massive stack of papers greeted me at my desk; I sighed, already apprehensive about the countdown and limited time. As I sat down, I noticed something else hidden behind the tower of work: a long white box tied with a green ribbon.

  There was no note or anything on the box. I looked around the office at a loss. Had someone left it on my desk by mistake?

  Curious, I removed the ribbon and opened it to see what was inside. Beneath a layer of red tissue paper was a beautiful silver gown. I touched the material, silky smooth. Exquisite and far too expensive. A dress resoundingly out of my budget. And one that could not be mine. This had to be a mistake. Despite that, I couldn’t help but slip it out of its box and hold it up to admire its beauty.

  My fingers hooked a hold of the thin, lacy straps. The straps were lightly beaded and extended onto its front where it was also decorated with a delicate length of black lace. The back scooped low and the long dress cascaded to the floor in a luxurious and shimmering waterfall of sleek satin. It was the most gorgeous dress I’d ever seen, and I quickly spun my head around again to see if anyone was looking to claim it as their own. No one was. They were all busy at work, heads down.

  A hopeful thought zipped through my head, but I buried the feeling. Instead, I knew I needed to be practical. Find who the dress was meant to be for and get it back to its owner. I hunted inside the box for any indication that would lead me to them. Thankfully inside I found a note. But it didn’t help me any. It said: For tonight. That was all. I looked around again, feeling a tickling sensation crawl up my back and neck. I felt like I was being watched. But no matter how many times I looked for a clue as to who had left the gift, nothing and no one presented themselves.

  I immediately ruled out Tommy. He had seemingly sensed my change in demeanor and had backed off on his new charming act. I highly doubted he’d pick something so thoughtful, but who else knew about the party?

  I returned the dress to its box just as Tiff’s bouncing blonde ponytail appeared around the corner of Tommy’s office.

  “Wow! I guess someone has an eager secret Santa!” she said. “We don’t normally exchange gifts for a few more days.”

  I’d completely forgotten about the Secret Santa, but surely no one would go to these lengths for the new girl. If evening gowns were standard gifts in this office, they were about to be severely disappointed my half-hearted box of chocolate truffles. I hadn’t even opened my envelope to see who I’d gotten yet.

  “Is this from you?” I asked her, still breathless from the extraordinary gift.

  She mimed zippering her lips shut with her thumb and forefinger and giggled.

  “Tiff, tell me!” I whispered, unable to stop the smile that had formed on my lips.

  “Not a chance. I’m so jealous you get to go tonight.”

  Tiff had become one of the few reasons this job was actually bearable; her positivity made me forget the uncertainty I felt around Tommy. Being around him was like being on a rollercoaster of emotions. Far too many stomach plummeting drops. She’d also witnessed some of his more cold moments and was always there with support.

  Still, we were relative strangers. I’d thought about showing her the list, but I didn’t know what she would do with it, and I couldn’t risk losing my job. I also didn’t want her to feel bad since she was on it after all. She seemed to love working here, and I didn’t want to be the cause of souring that for her.

  Even though I suspected Tiff of being the gift-giver, the mystery of the dress still tugged at my focus all day, but there wasn’t much time to think about anything other than work. Despite the time of the year, new cases kept a steady flow of people coming and going, in and out of Tommy’s office the entire day, and the phone hardly stayed silent for more than a minute.

  By the end of the day, I could have fallen asleep standing up, but I quickly shoved some notes I’d planned to type up over the weekend into my purse and made to leave. I looked anxiously at the clock. By the time I fought the evening traffic home, I’d probably have to turn around and come back. Although the dress had taken some of the pressure off, I still had no idea if it fit.

  Nervously, I knocked on the door to Tommy’s office. A grunt of permission greeted me. He looked up from his desk when I entered.

  “I called to confirm the car for this evening, to make sure your regular driver was still available, but they told me you canceled it?”

  “Yeah, I did. Can you be ready by eight? Which also reminds me, is the address on your file current?”

  “Um?” I was thrown off; he wanted to pick me up at my house? “My home address?”

  He nodded.

  “Yeah,” I said trying to remember what I’d given the temp agency.

  “Great, be ready at eight, not a moment later.”

  I stood there, staring at him.

  “Did the dress fit?” he asked his tone even.

  “I dunno, I haven’t tried it on yet—wait, how do you know about the dress?”

  “Come on, Shae. You know we don’t reveal secret Santa’s until after Christmas.”

  I was about to argue, to demand to know if he was the one but then he winked, and my knees wobbled like jelly.

  I’m sure my face must have reflected the confusion I felt because he laughed. It was that same husky laugh I remembered so well from high school, and my insides melted.

  “See you later,” he said, as a cue for me to leave.

  Remembering how little time I would have to get ready, even though now he was going to be picking me up, I stayed silent, nodded a goodbye and ran out of his office.

  Chapter 7

  “Wow,” said Liv then whistled.

  I was standing in front of the hall mirror in the new gown. In practically no time at all, and with Liv’s help, we’d managed to curl my long, honey brown hair. It fell silkily past my shoulders where it partially covered th
e lacy straps of the gown. I looked so different to how I looked when I went into the office. I usually kept my hair swept back off my face, mostly in a bun or a ponytail, but tonight letting my hair down seemed the right thing to do. The dress also warranted the look.

  And by some miracle, it had fit like a glove. I couldn’t believe it. It was like my own fairy Godmother had made it for me, knowing my measurements to the exact millimeter. However that also came with a stomach-churning anxiety too. The dress was like a second skin, and I kept finding myself wrapping my arms around my middle self-consciously.

  Numerous times Liv had batted them away and told me not to be ashamed of my body. “Flaunt it, girl!”

  I blushed. “I can’t believe this is happening, Liv.”

  “You deserve it. And in that dress, you better go out there and shake what Mama gave ya.” We smiled, though a little somberly, and knew what we were both thinking. Neither of us felt the need to say it. I thought it instead: It wasn’t like Mama was going to give me anything else this Christmas, but at least we had her genes, and spectacular legs.

  Gratefully I borrowed some of Liv’s heels, a strappy silver pair, and put on makeup that wasn’t my usual go-to of sunscreen, chapstick, and mascara. When my hand shook as I tried to apply a thin line of eyeliner, Liv was forced to take over.

  But finally, the transformation was complete, with a couple of minutes to spare. I hardly recognized myself. The whirlwind of the night finally caught up with us, and as soon as we made eye contact in the mirror, we erupted into a fit of laughter. I laughed so hard; tears streamed from my eyes. Luckily I’d had the foresight to use waterproof mascara, and my makeup was left intact.

  “Oh don’t you start,” Liv said as she saw my tears, even though they were happy ones. “You’ll set me off, and I’ll be forced to eat that pint of ice cream I know you’ve got hidden away in the back of the freezer.”

  I nodded and pulled myself together. “At least leave me some if you do.”

  Last year, Dad had gone into the hospital on December 19th at 4:12 pm. And since that afternoon, time plowed ahead at breakneck speed. There had never been a moment to gasp for air, never a moment to step off the vicious merry go round that had become my life. But as I stared at myself in the long hallway mirror, and stared at Liv beaming behind me, time, for just a moment, stilled.

  I realized we’d been having fun. Not faking happiness for each other, but just presently, unabashedly happy. For the first time in almost a year, we were starting to remember what it felt like to be whole.

  At 8:00 p.m., I checked my makeup one last time in the mirror and blotted my lips again. From the front room, I heard Liv utter a breathless, “Wow!”

  “What?” I called.

  “Your knight in shining armor sure knows how to ride in style! Wait till you see it,” she said coming back into the hallway and proceeded to push me to the door.

  Outside was an elegant but enormous black limousine, with dark tinted windows. It was one of those stretch-SUVs. It was so large that I wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a pool in it somewhere!

  Watching it park I was inundated with unwelcome flashbacks to prom. I hadn’t gone, of course, but I’d helped Nicole get ready at her house and remembered the pit of jealousy I’d felt as she’d boarded her fancy limo with her other, more popular, friends.

  “Don’t look so petrified!” Liv said from the porch. “Have fun. Please? Just a little bit of fun. Do it for me!”

  I nodded and gathered up the bottom of my dress. “I promise. I won’t be late—”

  “You better be late! I don’t want you stepping back into this house until way after midnight!”

  “Yes, Ma'am!” I chuckled and nodded again at my adorable and loving sister.

  A driver in a crisp suit exited the car and held the door open for me. He held my hand and helped me step aboard. Inside, the cavernous car was empty, and I breathed an unexpected sigh of relief.

  Though a part of me was also slightly disappointed that Tommy wasn’t there with a romantic bouquet of roses and a smile to greet me.

  But this wasn’t a fairytale; I knew I had to keep reminding myself of that. I was only there because he’d made it absolutely clear I had to be, that it was part of my job. The dress and the limo, no doubt, were just fronts; to show off or at least look equal to the other people who would be in attendance. He couldn’t very well have me showing up in a dress I bought on sale years ago or my old beater of a car. That wouldn’t exactly give the right impression, now would it?

  And at work, we’d barely spoken more than 50 words to each other. Of those words, maybe 10 of them were kind. I’d been a bumbling, flustered mess of apologies and attempts to please. He’d been an impossible to satisfy jerk. It didn’t leave much room for a successful carpool, so it was good we were going separately. At least that’s what I tried to tell myself the entire ride.

  The driver watched me get settled in the spacious back seat before asking, “All set, Miss?”

  “Yes, thank you.” The moment felt surreal and outside, it had started to snow. It was almost magical.

  We drove out of my neighborhood and into the nicer, more expensive part of town. Apartments became houses, which became mansions on plots of land that were separated by vast amounts of space and manicured gardens. The traffic of the city slowly lessoned until, finally, we approached a looming metal gate at the end of a long line of limousines, black sedans, and sports cars.

  After pacing along, we reached the front of the house, if you could even call it that. A large fountain in the front courtyard splashed what I could only imagine just above freezing water. Tuxedoed men and elegant looking women paraded around in the falling snow, their opulence acting as an apparent shield to the frigid weather. The driver stopped the car in front of a wide, stone staircase that rose to meet a line of beautiful white columns. Out of nowhere a man dressed all in black approached and took my breath away. I realized suddenly it was Tommy Carver.

  He opened the door and extended a hand wearing a sleek, black leather glove.

  I longed to take it but knew if I did I would be falling deeper and deeper for the man that was my boss. I was only here to work, I reminded myself. Nothing more.

  Stubbornly, I ignored his hand and clambered out of the limo. If tonight went horribly wrong, I had the list in my clutch. I didn’t know what I intended to do with it, I was still worried I’d lose my job, but having it made me feel better somehow. It was a shield against his unpredictability.

  Illuminated by the outdoor lighting, his eyes looked darker than ever; a wild, stormy gray. In all the excitement, I’d never considered the fact that Tommy Carver, my high school crush; my asswipe of a boss; Tommy Carver, the naughty list author extraordinaire, would be standing in front of me with his arm extended like some Hollywood cliché. Or a would-be Prince Charming.

  I shook my head. I needed to keep my wits about me.

  My black shawl was no match for the freezing temperature, and I was already shivering. Clamminess seeped out onto my palms.

  The power I’d felt before from having the list suddenly dissipated. Up until this moment, it had propelled me forward without fear or anxiety. I had been nervous about having enough time to get ready, to not screwing up and about all the people I would meet, but I hadn’t even considered this part. I hadn’t considered that I’d have to spend a diplomatic evening with my high school crush turned arch nemesis.

  “Are you warm enough?” he asked. It was the first time he’d spoken tonight.

  “Yes, I’m fine, thanks.”

  My nose was dominated by that same scent I’d experienced the night he helped me with my Jeep. Mint and aftershave, it was a sharp smell, masculine, and if I was honest with myself, heavenly.

  I wanted him to wrap his arms around me, bring me close and envelope me in that heady, intoxicating smell.

  “You look stunning,” he added. I tried to conceal the shock that I’m sure instantly appeared on my face.

>   A few snowflakes had fallen into his dark hair and onto the shoulders of his coat. I watched them disappear before looking up into his gray eyes once more.

  “Thank you,” I said. I tried to keep my voice even and unaffected, but already I was losing this power battle and I’d barely gotten out of the car.

  “Well, you do,” he replied quietly.

  As we started up the steps he spoke again, in hushed tones, his head was tilted conspiratorially toward mine.

  “I’m not sure how to say this,” he half-whispered, his voice low. I immediately flashed back to that look on his face by the filing cabinet and outside of my car. I looked at him now, the same apprehension was there, but his face looked different. Embarrassed almost.

  “I have a small request,” he said.

  For a moment I wondered if it was something work-related, he had said I’d be working this evening. The pained expression in his eyes made me think it was something more than that though. I stared at him with an uneasy curiosity.

  “What? Not an order or a demand?”

  He smiled. “No, a simple request; a favor.”

  “So if I wanted to I could say?”

  Tommy paused and looked at me. “You could, but I would be very grateful if you didn’t.”

  I pondered this warmer version of Tommy and his request. But still didn’t let my guard down. He, after all, wanted something from me.

  “The real reason I’m—we’re—at this event tonight is because Douglas Barnaby will be here.”

  “Barnaby?” I asked, “Like Barnaby Electric?”

  “Yes, like Barnaby Electric.”

  He took a breath and let the gravity of that fact sink in. The name Barnaby dominated our town. Most hospitals, schools, and state buildings boasted the name. Douglas Barnaby was on Forbes’s list of wealthiest men last year. The bookshop where I’d worked since out of college was also called “Barnaby Books,” although I’d never seen him in there. Still, everyone knew who he was.