Merry Christmas, Darling
A sweet romantic comedy
by Denise Devine
On Kindle and Kindle Unlimited
Chapter 1
Friday
evening, December 18th
“Merry Christmas,
darlin’.”
Rock
Henderson lounged against the doorway of Kimberly Jo Stratton’s condominium,
wearing a killer grin, a bright red Santa hat, and a sleek tuxedo. One hand
gripped a bottle of champagne; the other displayed two crystal flutes dangling
upside-down between his long, slim fingers.
“I’ve
brought you a little gift.” He raised the bottle. “Vintage holiday cheer.”
The
grandfather clock in the opposite corner of her dining room chimed nine times
as Kim tightened the sash around her pink chenille bathrobe. Rock’s assistant
had called at the last minute and said he would meet with her at four o’clock that
afternoon to discuss the war brewing between the residents of their condominium
complex, but he never showed. She’d skipped the hospital’s Christmas party to
keep that appointment, only to get stood up. By seven o’clock, she’d given up
on him and changed into her pajamas and robe. How dare he drop by at this late
hour, unapologetic, unconcerned about the situation, and ready to party?
At
her feet, a fawn Chihuahua with a white face yapped non-stop, jumping at her
ankle like a wind-up toy. “Hush, Sasha,” she snapped at the small dog, worried that
all the commotion would draw attention and expose her plan to other tenants on
her floor.
“You’re
five hours late, Henderson.” Intent on keeping their meeting confidential, she
grabbed him by the lapels and hauled him into her living room. “Did you get
lost?” Her gaze swept pointedly over his formal attire as she quickly shut the
door. “Or were you sidetracked by someone more glamorous than your lowly,
working-class neighbor in 601E?”
Sasha
looked up at Rock, let out a high-pitched yelp, and dashed out of sight, her fluffy
tail curled between her legs.
He
moved close, murmuring in Kim’s ear. “I had an emergency, but I’m here now.”
Rock
Henderson, a self-made millionaire and CEO of his own software design company,
possessed the charm of a Hollywood heartthrob and the reputation of a ladies’
man who switched girlfriends as often as he changed the oil in his sports car.
“Come
on, darlin’,” he coaxed in that deep, throaty purr she’d heard him use on other
women in the building, “just hear me out before you chew me out.”
An
emergency that required a tux? Yeah, right. A laughable excuse if she’d ever
heard one. No way could she count on his cooperation if she couldn’t even trust
him to keep his word. He held out the bottle to show her the label, but she
ignored his ill-timed bribe for standing her up, and instead, glared into his coffee-colored,
deep-set eyes. “You’re drunk, Rock. Get on your private elevator and go home. And
stop calling me darlin’!”
“I’m
stone sober,” Rock muttered as he strode past her, giving her a wry, sideways
glance. “And for the record, I did not pass up our meeting for a hot date. I’ve
just spent a long and difficult day dealing with an issue that literally landed
on my doorstep.”
He scanned
her newly refurbished living room, illuminated only by the TV screen and twinkle
lights on her Christmas tree. “Nice place you’ve got here,” he said, abruptly
changing the subject. He collapsed his broad, six-foot frame onto a cream
loveseat, stretched out his legs, and toed off his patent leather dress shoes. “Ah-h-h...
feels good.”
Kim
followed him, ignoring the obvious compliment to flatter her into a good mood. They
both knew her one-bedroom unit looked like a walk-in closet compared to the ballroom-sized
penthouse he occupied on the twentieth floor. She folded her arms and stared
down at him. “Look, Rock, if all you want is someone to drink with—”
“Hey,
hey, wait a minute.” His dark brows arched as he set the champagne and flutes
on the metal and glass coffee table. “You’re the one who pressed my assistant
repeatedly for this meeting. I’m simply providing refreshments.” He pulled off
his Santa hat and tossed it across the armrest of the loveseat. A thick lock of
tousled black hair fell across his forehead. “What exactly do you want?”
Realizing
she might actually have a chance to persuade him to accept her point of view, Kim
sat on the opposite loveseat, picked up the TV remote, and muted the sound of Pillow
Talk. “I’d like to discuss what happened at the association meeting last
week.”
“Lucky
me,” he countered in a bored voice as he began peeling away the foil on the top
of the bottle. “I’ve made it a rule to avoid those things. Most of the discussion
is nothing but a complaint session. I have a corporation to run, clients to
satisfy. It’s immaterial to me whose overnight guests are taking up too many
parking spots or whether we plant red flowers or gold ones along the front of
the building.”
If
only...
The
meeting last Wednesday nearly turned into an instant replay of a reality TV
episode, almost degrading to the point of chair-throwing and a down-and-dirty
brawl. Kim pushed the image of the emotionally charged crowd to the back of her
mind as she edged closer to the coffee table separating her and Rock. “But you
do understand the real issue in the latest controversy, don’t you?”
He
crumbled the foil into a ball and slipped it into his jacket pocket. “With all
the arguing going on everywhere I turn, I’d have to be an alien from Mars to be
ignorant of this one.”
“Then
tell me, which side are you on?” Her heart skipped a beat. She hoped he
understood how much the outcome was riding on his opinion. How drastically
things could change if he elected to support the opposing view. “Are you for or
against changing the bylaws to prohibit pets in this building?”
“Don’t
care either way.” He unwound the wire cage protecting the cork then pointed the
bottle toward the ceiling. “Pardon the pun, dar—my dear, but I don’t have a dog
in this fight.” His brows drew together in concentration as he gripped the cork
between his thumb and fingers and gently pulled. It made a long, low hiss as
pressure escaped. After a few moments, he eased the cork out, but no bubbly
liquid gushed forth. Only a slight mist curled above the opening.
“Rock,
the preliminary vote ended in a tie and no one will budge.” She leaned forward,
placing her palms on the table. “Your vote could swing the decision either way.”
At
a time when she expected him to be serious, he chose to grin. “What you’re
really saying is, you want me to cast my vote in favor of the status quo so you
can keep your mutt, right?”
A
low growl unfurled under the Christmas tree followed by a succession of rapid snorts.
Rock
glanced around in surprise. “What was that?”
“My
dog and she isn’t a mutt,” Kim replied as Sasha glared at them from between two
presents wrapped in red foil. “Here, Sasha.” She patted the empty cushion next
to her and smacked her lips. “Come on, sweetie. Rock’s not going to hurt you.”
The
pint-sized canine crept from the shadows with pointed, white-tipped ears laid
back, her bulbous brown eyes focused on Rock as she cautiously approached the
loveseat. A ridge of fawn hair spiked in protest along her spine. Multi-colored
lights twinkling on the tree reflected a rainbow of hues against her white
chest and finger-length legs. She jumped on the loveseat and settled on Kim’s
lap with a snort, never taking her attention off the stranger sitting across
from them.
“So
that’s what all the fuss is about, huh? No offense, but it looks like a furry rat.”
Grinning, Rock handed Kim a flute of champagne. His fingers grazed hers as the crystal
changed hands. A sharp tingle sparked like a live wire up her arm and down her
spine. Rock had that effect on women. All women, to be precise; but then, who
could resist a tall, dark, handsome man who owned a penthouse on the Minneapolis
riverfront and drove a red Jaguar?
She
could and she’d made up her mind a long time ago she always would. Growing up,
she’d watched her mother fall in and out of love with men like him—successful,
high rollers who loved the chase but didn’t know the meaning of commitment. The
late Veronica Stratton would have schemed night and day to net a fish like Rock
Henderson. Based upon her mother’s experience, Kim knew first hand that you
didn’t catch a shark. The shark caught you and always left you deeply wounded
in the water. She’d rather swim alone than take that chance.
Sasha
glanced back and forth, voicing her own opinion with an occasional “R-r-r-ruff.”
“This
time it’s more than a mere fuss, believe me.” Kim slowly twirled the glass
between her fingers. “If the majority vote swings in favor of banning animals,
a lot of residents will sell out and move, including me. Most of the pet owners
have been here since this complex was built. We’re more than just friendly neighbors;
we’ve become as close as family and I don’t want my family to split up. Some of
our elderly residents depend upon their neighbors for help so they can continue
to live independently. Who would they turn to if we left?”
Rock
frowned as he filled his glass. “With all those units for sale at the same
time, the value of everyone’s property is bound to decrease.”
“Including
yours.” Kim sipped her champagne and waited for that little tidbit to sink in.
Rock
looked her straight in the eye. “Perhaps there’s a way we can accommodate each
other.”
She
froze, suspending the flute midway to her lips as her suspicion grew. His
insinuation that they might be able to find a workable solution should have
alleviated her fear. Instead, it angered her. It always came down to sex, didn’t
it? Men didn’t have anything else on their minds. “If you’re suggesting I sleep
with you as a tradeoff—”
“No,
no.” He waved away the notion. “Just live with me for about a week. I need your
help.”
What
did he have in mind—a live-in maid with a little hanky-panky on the side? Did
he really think she’d fall for that lie? Her disgust boiled over.
“Why?
Are you in between girlfriends? Looking for a little distraction until
something better comes along? If you are, you’ve looked in the wrong direction!
I’m not a member of your fan club.”
He
gave a little tug on the lapel of her robe. “I’ll make it more than worth your
while.”
Get
out of my house, Rock Henderson!” She scooped up Sasha and jumped to her feet. The
dog wriggled from her grasp and landed on the loveseat cushion, barking as it dived
to the floor and raced out of sight. “This conversation is over.”
She
tossed the last swallow of champagne into his face and stormed out of the room.
* * *
Rock
snatched the silk handkerchief from his front pocket and mopped his chin before
the sticky liquid dripped onto his jacket.
Huh...that
went well.
A moment
later, Kim’s bedroom door slammed, reminding him that he needed her in his bed.
Tonight.
“Ah,
c’mon, Kim,” he coaxed gently as he crossed the room and rapped his knuckle on
the door. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I’m sorry if I made you upset.”
“Apology
accepted,” she said, sounding tired, but deliberate. “Now, go home.”
“I’m
not leaving until you come out and give me a chance to explain.” He tried the
knob and found it locked. “Besides, there’s at least two more glasses of
champagne left and I hate drinking alone.”
The
tree lights suddenly flickered and went dark. He glanced over his shoulder just
in time to catch that mutt with the cord between its teeth, pulling the plug
out of the wall.
“Hey,
you, stop that!” He walked over to the tree and knelt to rescue the dog, but
snatched his hand back before the ungrateful little critter could sink a
mouthful of pointy teeth into his thumb. “You keep chewing on that cord, half-pint,
and I guarantee you’re going to turn into a grilled sausage, fully charred.”
Behind
him, the bedroom door flew open and Kim rushed to his side, gasping in horror. “Let
go of the cord, baby!” She pried the apparatus from Sasha’s mouth and snatched
the dog into her arms. Without a word, she turned to head back into her
boudoir, but Rock stepped in her path, nearly causing her to collide with his
chest. The top of her head barely reached his chin and she couldn’t have weighed
more than one hundred ten pounds soaking wet. Wrapped in all that pink fluff, she
looked more like a ball of cotton candy than a tough-as-nails nurse
practitioner.
She
looked up, her gaze boring into his. “You’re blocking my way.”
“Just
a minute.” He gripped his hands on his hips, unwilling to let her pass until he’d
made his point. “I just saved your pooch from getting barbecued and that’s all
you have to say?”
“You’re
right,” she answered with a begrudging smile. “Thank you.” As she attempted to skirt
around him, he cupped her elbow, steering her toward the living room.
“You’re
welcome. Now, can we please start over?” Anxious to make amends, Rock ditched
the flirtatious manner and lowered his voice to a gentler tone. “You said you
needed my help.” He gestured toward the twin loveseats. “Let’s sit down. I have
a proposal to make and I promise I won’t bite, though I can’t say the same for
your mutt...er, baby.”
As
if it understood, the mangy little cur rolled back its top lip, silently
showing him a set of sharp fangs.
Rock
cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. After the day he’d
endured, he could use a nice, stiff shot about now, but preferably not tetanus.
He nodded toward the living room. “Shall we?”
Kim
hesitated as if weighing her options. “All right,” she replied with a sigh, “but
don’t try coming on to me again or I’ll sic my dog on you.”
He
agreed and followed her back to the loveseats, taking his previous spot. “Now,”
he continued in a business tone, “I want you to listen with an open mind until
I’m finished.” He took a deep breath and braced himself. Might as well cut to
the chase and get it out there. “I really need you to move in with me for about
a week...and pretend to be my wife.”
Her
jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
The
sudden chill in the air almost made him shudder as she sat up straight, mirroring
the image of an ice sculpture he’d once viewed at the St. Paul Winter Carnival.
Her wide blue eyes regarded him with skepticism and distrust. He studied her
for a moment, wondering what to say next. Her blonde pixie cut, upturned nose,
and smattering of freckles fit the image of the proverbial girl next door. She’d
probably make a great wife for the right guy one of these days. However, did
she possess the skill to convince Zelda that she would be the perfect wife for
him?
“Let’s
have another drink.” Rock grabbed the bottle and began to pour, filling her
flute. “I’ll start from the beginning.”
“Please
do.” Her lips barely moved, the words slipping out in monosyllables.
“A couple
of months ago I became engaged. That was my first mistake.” He set the bottle
down and clasped his hands together. “Then I told my mother.”
“What’s
wrong with telling your mom? That’s usually the first person you call to
announce good news.” Kim picked up her bubbling flute. “I gather you’re not
engaged any longer.”
“No.”
He rubbed his palm over his emerging five-o-clock shadow. “She didn’t work out.”
Kim
didn’t comment, but her raised eyebrows suggested she didn’t empathize with
someone who talked about breaking up with his future wife like a business deal
gone bad.
“Okay,
there’s more to it than that. She double-crossed me.”
“She
cheated on you?”
“It’s
on par with infidelity as far as I’m concerned.” He shook his head, still angry
about it. “She obtained confidential information through intimate conversations
with me and turned it over to my competitor. Of course, when I discovered the
leak and confronted her, she professed extreme remorse. According to her,” he
paused, replaying the scene in his mind, “by that time, she had allegedly
realized she’d fallen in love with me.”
“What
does all this have to do with me getting your vote?”
“I
didn’t tell my family what happened once the engagement ended.” He gave a cynical
laugh. “My mother would’ve been so disappointed she would have never let me
hear the end of it.” Squaring his shoulders, he downed his drink in three gulps
and set the flute on the table. “Now that the wedding date has passed and no
one received an invitation, everyone thinks I eloped.”
Kim
burst into incredulous laughter. “Why don’t you just tell them the truth, Mr.
Chief Executive Hypocrite? You didn’t like being deceived, so why are you
deceiving them?”
Because
you don’t disappoint Zelda, he thought glumly. Especially the way things
stood now. “My mother’s heart is in bad shape. I’m afraid of what it would do
to her if I told her what really happened. She’s so happy now that she thinks I’m
married.”
“How
is putting on a charade going to keep her happy? She’ll find out eventually and
then you’ll have to account for lying to her, too.”
“She’s
not going to last much longer, so I don’t see the point in causing her any more
pain than she’s already bearing.” Rock grabbed Kim’s glass and consumed her champagne,
wishing he could just tell his mother the truth. Unfortunately, the tug-of-war
relationship with his imperious mother didn’t work that way. “If she’s going to
die soon then all I want is for her to go happy.”
“You
don’t actually believe you’re going to pull this off, do you? I mean, I’m not
the vain, self-centered type that you date. I don’t know how to act haughty and
spoiled. She’s going to see right through me.” Kim set her dog aside and stood
up. “Forget it.”
Desperation
fueled his frustration. Rock stood to his full height, towering over her. “Look,
you don’t have to be my type; you just have to be by my side for a week. I’ve
got everything covered.”
“If
I agree to it, I’m not moving in with you.”
Heat
began to build under his collar. “Oh, yes, you are, darlin’. The last time
I checked, that’s the way married couples operated.”
“But
we’re not married. We’re not even working out at the gym together.” She rose on
her tiptoes and poked him in the chest with her index finger. “So, if you think
I’m going to sleep in the same bed with you—”
He
leaned forward and grabbed her hand. A surge of attraction coursed through him
as he covered her petite fingers with his broad palm. It threw him off guard
for a moment, but the prospect of spending the night with her suddenly
intrigued him. “What’s the matter, darlin’, are you afraid you might like sharing
a bed with me?”
Her
eyes narrowed as she jerked her hand away. “Get over yourself, Rock Henderson. What
I’m afraid of is that this is all just an amusing game to you and once we’re
alone, you’ll pull out every trick in your little black book to try to seduce
me—no matter what we agree on.”
“Don’t
worry about that. You’re not my type—remember? I’ll be a perfect gentleman. Besides,
before you know it, the week will be over. Look, I can’t disappoint my mother.
If you want my vote, those are my terms. No wifey,” he pointed at her
mutt, “no doggie.”
She
clamped her jaw shut. After a few tense moments of staring him down, she said
through clenched teeth, “When is Mother scheduled to arrive?”
His
stomach churned. “She showed up this afternoon with her nurse.” He grabbed the
champagne bottle by the neck, brought it to his lips, and drained the last few
drops. The champagne went down like water, but it did little to relieve his apprehension.
“I
had no idea she’d planned this visit. She decided to surprise me and lay over a
few days in Minneapolis before flying to Vail to spend Christmas with my
brother, Patrick. She wanted to meet my wife! I didn’t know what to do until I
remembered my assistant telling me you had left messages with her saying that
you desperately needed my help. So, I decided to pay you a visit and see
if we could strike a deal. I couldn’t get away earlier to talk to you about it
because I had to take Mother out to dinner. I told her you couldn’t make it
because you were out for the day shopping with your girlfriends.”
His
iPhone suddenly buzzed. He glanced at the screen and turned it off. “It’s her. I’d
better go. She’s probably wondering why it’s taking so long to get a newspaper.
How soon can you change and come upstairs?”
She
gave him a stubborn look. “I didn’t say I’d do it, yet. I’ve been looking
forward to taking a vacation at Christmastime for years. Do you have any idea
how long it took me to gain enough seniority at the hospital to get this week
off? I have gifts to buy, parties to attend, and lunch dates with friends. Playing
house with you isn’t my idea of a vacation!”
“Yeah,
but you did say that the fate of your residency here and all your long-time
neighbors is hanging on my vote. You hold all the cards...”
“But,
Rock, I don’t have the expensive designer clothes that your fiancée would wear.
I live in scrubs and a lab coat.”
He
shrugged. “The day I showed my fiancée the door, she departed in such a rage
that she left some clothes in my closet—mostly things I bought.” He looked her
over. “She’s taller, but you’re about her size. Just wear hers. They’ll look
better on you than they did on her, anyway.”
He
set the empty bottle back on the coffee table and headed for the door. Pausing
with his hand on the doorknob, he turned back. “I’ll tell Mother you’re on your
way home and due to arrive any minute. Oh, and by the way, your name is Diona Daye.
Got that?”
“What?”
She stomped across the room. “You mean I have to change my name, too? What are
we going to do when someone sees me in the lobby and calls me Kim?”
“I
don’t know. We’ll just make sure no one sees us together. At any rate, let’s
concentrate on one issue at a time, like getting through the next hour or two.”
He reached into his trouser pocket. “Here’s your security card for the elevator.
It’s also my private entrance into the garage. You can move your car tomorrow.”
Something
caught his eye. He glanced down as she slowly took the card. “Hey,” he remarked
with a wide grin, “are those bunny slippers on your feet? I haven’t seen anyone
wearing those since I was ten years old.”
“Yeah.”
She stuck out her chin. “Gee, is that a tux you’re wearing? I haven’t seen anyone
show up for a meeting with me in one of those ever.”
She
sure was cute, but he knew better than to verbalize it.
He
opened the door a crack and peered out at the empty hallway before looking back
at her. “My company Christmas bash is going on tonight at the Hilton. It’s too
bad I had to miss my own party, but Mother didn’t feel up to going. It cost a
small fortune.” He gave her a wink, determined to let it go, and concentrate on
the issue at hand. “See you in a few minutes, Diona.”
The
throw pillow intended for his head hit the backside of the door as he slipped
out and hustled toward the stairwell. Kim’s spunky temper felt like a
refreshing breeze compared to Diona’s constant pouting. He exhaled; relieved
that he’d caught on to Diona’s traitorous scheme before she’d caused too much
damage to his company. Even so, she’d still managed to ruin his belief in
marriage. Her duplicity had proved beyond a doubt that he couldn’t trust anyone
with either his deepest secrets or with his heart. He had no idea if he’d ever
meet someone who would change his mind, but for now, he planned to live his
life one day at a time, leaving the past behind.
He slipped into the stairwell and bounded down the stairs to make it to the lobby and get on his private elevator, all the while wondering if Kim would hit it off with Zelda or if his mother would see right through her pretense. Time would tell, but one thing seemed certain. No matter how well Kim played her part, it would take a miracle to get through this week—with both women.
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