The Twelve Dates of Christmas. SUSAN MEIER
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smiled. She’d wondered why Tucker and Olivia had had their Christmas party so early.
“It’s going to be such fun. We’ll sleigh ride and skate.” She smiled at her handsome husband, a dark-haired, thirty-something former confirmed bachelor she’d fallen in love with in Italy. “And drink hot chocolate by the fire.”
“Sounds perfect.” For Olivia. The woman lived and breathed the fairy tale. But Eloise wanted a real life. With her husband dead and most of the magic sucked out of life, all she wanted to be was normal, to get a job and never depend on anyone but herself again.
She glanced around. “Have you seen Laura Beth?”
Olivia caught Eloise’s hand and pulled her to the side. “She left ten minutes ago with one of Tucker’s vice presidents.”
Eloise’s chest tightened. “Really?”
“They were talking stock options and market fluctuations when they said goodbye to us. I overheard them saying something about going to a coffee shop.”
“Oh.”
“Do you need a taxi?”
She licked her suddenly dry lips. A taxi? Obviously Olivia had forgotten how much a taxi cost. The plan had been for her and Laura Beth to take the subway. Together. She didn’t want to ride alone this late at night and couldn’t believe Laura Beth had ditched her.
Still, that wasn’t Olivia’s problem. If anything, Eloise and Laura Beth had vowed to keep their financial distress from their now-wealthy friend so she wouldn’t do something kind, but awkward, like pay their rent.
“Um. No. I don’t need a taxi.” She smiled. “I’m taking the subway.”
“Alone?”
“I love the subway.” That wasn’t really a lie. She did love the subway. It was cheap and efficient. But at night, alone, it was also scary.
“Oh, Eloise! I don’t want you to risk it. Let Tucker call his driver.”
“We’re fine.”
“You’re alone.”
Drat. She’d hoped Olivia wouldn’t notice that tricky maneuvering use of “we” to make her think she had company for the subway.
Tucker caught Olivia’s hand to get her attention. “Ricky’s leaving.”
Eloise turned to see the guy who had tried to tell her stealing crackers was okay. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and he looked amazing in a tux. Sexy.
She sucked in a breath. Noticing he was sexy had been an accident. She refused to notice any guy until she was financially stable.
Olivia stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
All right. He was tall. It was hard not to notice someone was tall.
He straightened away from Olivia, and Eloise frowned. It was also hard not to notice smooth, sexy brown eyes that had a sleepy, smoldering way of looking at a woman. And that hair? Dark. Shaggy. So out of style she should want to walk him to a hair salon. Instead, she was tempted to brush it off his forehead.
Wow. Seriously? What was wrong with her? She had not intended to take note of any of that. But the guy was simply too gorgeous not to notice.
“Good night, Ricky. Thanks for coming to the party. I hope you enjoyed it.”
“It was great.”
He kissed Olivia’s cheek, and Eloise stood there like an idiot, realizing her mistake. When he’d walked over, she should have taken advantage of Olivia’s preoccupation and slipped into the elevator. Nothing was worse than the guilt of a former roommate who hadn’t just found the love of her life but also her calling. While Eloise and Laura Beth floundered, Olivia had hit the life lottery and was married, pregnant and a manager for young artists. And now she couldn’t stop worrying about her former roommates.
Eloise didn’t want to be anybody’s burden. She was smart, educated. With the right job, she could be happy as a clam. It was finding that job that seemed impossible. Until she did, she’d be poor. And Olivia would worry.
Olivia glanced at Eloise and, as if just seeing the obvious, she gasped. “You’ve met Eloise, right?”
The guy named Ricky looked over at her. “I bumped into her by the fireplace.”
“She’s on her way home, but her friend left early.” Olivia winced. “Talking business with one of Tucker’s employees.”
Eloise supposed she shouldn’t be angry because that might lead to a better job for Laura Beth, but she knew the next words coming out of Olivia’s mouth before she even heard them.
“You have your limo, right?” She put her hand on her tummy, looking beautiful and Madonna like, the kind of woman no man could refuse. “You wouldn’t mind taking Eloise to her apartment, would you?”
Eloise immediately said, “No. I’m fine.”
At the same time, Ricky said, “Actually, I think I owe her a favor.”
Olivia beamed. “Great.”
The elevator doors swished open.
Ricky smiled at her and motioned to the door. “After you.”
She stepped inside. As the doors closed, she waved to Olivia. “Thanks again for inviting me.”
Tucker and Olivia waved back, looking like the perfect couple. “Thanks for coming.”
The doors met and the little car began its descent.
“So...your friend dumped you.”
“We’re both trying to find jobs that pay better than what we have so we can afford our rent. She was talking business with one of Tucker’s executives. I can’t fault her for that.”
“How long have you been in New York?”
“Three years.”
“That’s a long time to still be scraping by.”
“We were fine until Olivia left us.”
Even though she had a good excuse for her poverty, embarrassment rumbled through her. She might have been born into money, but she’d gone to the school of hard knocks. Paid her dues. Gotten her education in spite of her grief and confusion. Now all she wanted was a job.
Was that really so much to ask?
* * *
Ricky waited in silence as the elevator descended. From the tension crackling off Eloise Whatever-Her-Last-Name-Was, he could tell she wasn’t happy that he was taking her home. Actually, he could tell she wasn’t happy period. Her financial situation was abysmal. Her friend Olivia was living a great life. Her other friend had deserted her.
She had a lot of pride. Which he couldn’t argue. He had a bit of pride himself. But he wasn’t going to let a pretty single girl ride the subway alone after midnight. Especially not one who had made him laugh.
The elevator door opened and she sped out into the frosty cold night. He ambled behind her. When she reached the sidewalk, she stopped dramatically.
He wasn’t the only one who had called for his limo. Four long black cars sat in a cluster in front of the building. No way for her to pass. No way for her to hail a cab.
He paused behind her, slid his arm around her shoulders and pointed at the third one down. His fingers accidentally brushed the back of her neck, and the tips tingled at the feeling of her soft, soft skin.
He cleared his throat. “I’m number three. Just accept a ride.”
She straightened regally. “All right.”
When they reached his car, Norman, his driver, opened the door. She slid inside. He slid