All the Romance You Need This Christmas: 5-Book Festive Collection. Romy Sommer
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It’s not an emergency unless someone is bleeding, or there’s a real chance of decapitation.
She could probably get away with a more general risk of death than decapitation but still, neither applied in this case. The only thing at risk was her pride. And perhaps her relationship with her parents.
If she asked, if she confessed all, she knew Mum and Dad would try and find a way to pay for her to go home, but they didn’t have the money any more than she did. And it would be a one-way trip. If she left New York, broke and desperate, she wouldn’t be coming back. And she wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
The phone rang in Tyler’s office – never a good sign. The only person who had Tyler’s direct line, and so didn’t have to come through Dory, was his mother. She’d tricked it out of his previous assistant, which might have been why the job suddenly became available. And now Tyler couldn’t change the number or his mother would know he was avoiding her.
Personally, Dory was just glad she didn’t have to take the calls.
Within moments, a message from Tyler flashed up on her screen. Get photos. Now!
Dory rolled her eyes. Classic avoidance tactic. She would go in there, needing to urgently speak to him about photos, of all things, and he could legitimately tell his mother he had to go because something had come up.
Pulling up the search engine, she typed Tyler’s name into the search box. Usually that was all it took to get the most recent articles and photos up. She’d narrow it down by venue and event if there were too many. But before she could click search, the phone rang.
‘Tyler Alexander’s office,’ Dory said. ‘How can I help you?’
‘Is my brother there?’ The voice was unfamiliar, even after six months of working for Tyler, but she could make an easy educated guess at its owner. Lucas Alexander. The black sheep.
‘I’m sorry Mr Alexander, Tyler is on the phone right now.’ What did he want? She supposed this was the time of year when estranged brothers might suddenly get in touch, if only to discuss what on earth to buy their mother – the original woman-who-has-everything – for Christmas.
‘Let me guess – our mother.’ He sounded almost amused. His voice was deeper than Tyler’s, richer somehow.
‘I believe it might be.’ Dory clicked search then, while it was working, opened a new tab and typed the name ‘Lucas Alexander’ into the search bar. Let’s see exactly who I’m talking to. ‘Do you want me to ask Tyler to patch you in on a conference call with them?’
‘God, no!’ As Lucas spoke, a series of images began to load on Dory’s screen, all several years old, and all gorgeous. Lucas Alexander in a suit, on his wedding day, in shorts and a t-shirt on some beach somewhere… and one, the most recent shot of him, two years ago, in a dark coat and sunglasses. She clicked on that one.
‘In that case, can I take a message?’ she asked. The new page loaded with the headline ‘Alexander Drop Out?’ Dory scrolled down. CEO of the Alexander Corporation and heir to the family fortune, Lucas Alexander last night sensationally stepped down from the company, amid rumours of his divorce from socialite Cheryl Franklin.
‘If she’s on the phone, then she’s already seen the photos. I take it Tyler hasn’t yet?’ Lucas said.
‘Photos?’ Dory guiltily clicked back to the tab with the photos she was supposed to be looking for. ‘Oh my.’
‘Yeah. Not exactly the public image my dad usually likes us to promote for the Corporation.’ Lucas sighed. ‘It’s going to be a long Christmas break. Look, tell him I tried to warn him, yeah?’
‘I will,’ Dory promised, eyes still glued to the screen and the phone still in her hand long after Lucas had hung up.
As the dial tone buzzed, she finally put it down. Get it together, Dory. She needed to figure out exactly what was going on here.
Okay, so to start with, those weren’t photos from the latest charity gala. Dory was pretty sure he’d never have his hand that far up a woman’s dress in front of the country’s foremost do-gooders. She squinted at the picture on the screen. Who was she? No one Dory recognised, although the lighting and the woman’s position made it hard to pick out much beyond dark hair and long legs. Which didn’t narrow it down much. Tyler had what you might call A Type. Every woman she’d ever seen him out with had dark hair and long legs.
Hell, she had dark hair and reasonably lengthy legs. It could be her, except she’d never get that up-close-and-personal with her boss. She liked a guy with a little more depth, thanks.
A guy unlike her ex, as it turned out.
Although, now she thought about it, while she’d seen Tyler with a variety of women on his arms over the last six months, she’d never seen him with the same one twice. And she’d never seen him look at one like he could barely stop himself touching her, cameras be damned.
Whoever the woman in these photos was, she mattered to him. And he really wasn’t going to like the world seeing that. Let alone his mother…
Dory clicked on the article that went with the photos, checking the date stamp and scanning the text. The usual words popped out – Alexander family scion, billionaire, most eligible – but this time her eye stopped and paid attention to the second paragraph.
Usually seen in public with exactly the right woman for the occasion, accessorising his charity galas, publicity events and even dinner invitations like he’d match his tie to his suit, Tyler Alexander has never been afraid to show off his companions. Which makes us wonder about this one! Who is she? Where did they meet? Why is he keeping her a secret? And – could it be because, at last, Tyler has found The One?
Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. He really wasn’t going to like this. Apart from anything else, it might give the girl expectations – something Tyler studiously tried to avoid.
She looked at the picture again. Maybe this one really was different, though. In which case he’d probably be up in arms about invasion of privacy. Some days, you really couldn’t win with Tyler.
Reluctantly, she emailed him the link, then waited. Not for very long, mind. Within a minute, there was a reply.
GET IN HERE NOW!
He was still on the phone to his mother, so Dory slipped through the door and sat very, very quietly in the visitor’s chair on the other side of his desk. The chances of him not noticing she was there were slim, especially since he’d ordered her in, but she figured it was worth a try. She took a moment to remind herself that this was not her fault. She hadn’t been on a date with a strange woman, or got caught. She hadn’t even been responsible for making the dinner reservation, since she hadn’t even known he’d gone. She was in no way responsible for this. It was important to remember this – these things had a tendency to become completely irrelevant when Tyler was in a snit and looking for someone to blame.
‘I can’t just… she might have plans, Mother.’ Tyler slumped back in his chair, his eyes closed. ‘Yes, we’ve talked about… I’m sure she’d…’ He sighed. Dory sympathised; getting a word in edgeways when talking to Felicia Alexander was clearly not easy. ‘Mother. I’ll ask her, okay? I don’t know what else you want me to do.’ Stupid question. Tyler went silent again as his mother presumably gave him a list. ‘Fine. I’ll ask. Goodbye, Mother.’
Throwing the phone at the desk, he reached up to rub his temples. Dory, more concerned about his mother eavesdropping on whatever conversation followed, picked up the receiver and put it back on the hook. Then she sat back and waited for the blame to fall.
‘How could you let them post that picture?’ Tyler pointed at her, eyes open and accusing now.
‘How could you let them take it?’ she countered. ‘And it’s a bit hard to pull photos of you I don’t