Jingle Spells. Rhonda Nelson
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“As far as I know,” Belle said. “If he trims down, the suit will automatically adjust, but I doubt he’ll lose much weight in three weeks.”
“Thanks for that hopeful thought, Belle. I want you to send a memo to Kris and Merry about Taryn’s visit, though. They should avoid her if possible, but if she happens to meet Kris and notices his resemblance to Santa Claus, he can say he was hired as a mascot.”
“A mascot?” Dash laughed. “Oh, he’ll just love that description. Not.”
“Then he needs to stay out of sight.” Lack of sleep was sapping Cole’s patience. “I’m leaving in a couple of hours for Seattle. I’m taking the corporate jet. I’ll be back tonight with Taryn.”
“Too bad you can’t apparate and bring her back the magickal way,” Dash said. “Speaking as your transportation coordinator, it would be faster and cheaper.”
“I realize that, but I’m hoping to engineer this operation without the use of anything magickal, cocoa included. But Noelle, please get that more complex batch up and running, in case I need it for Taryn.”
“I’ll make it a top priority. But when you say you’re bringing her back, I hope you don’t intend to take her to the lodge. There’s no way I can keep security tight if you do that.”
“No, not the lodge. Too much magick going on there, too many witches and wizards randomly casting spells. Even meals are...well, anyway. The lodge is out. I’ll get her a reservation at the Nutcracker Inn. Dash, I’ll need a car and driver for her. The less she wanders around on her own, the better.”
“I suggest you be that driver,” Noelle said.
“I’d rather not.”
“Then who?” Noelle met his gaze. “This is our busiest time of year. Everyone’s schedule is packed.”
“That’s for sure,” Ethan said. “I’m booking talk show appearances as fast as I can to counteract the effect of Lark DeWynter’s new bestseller. The Christmas Lie was just reviewed in the New York Times and it’s playing havoc with Christmas cheer. I can fix that. I always do. But I have no spare time.”
“Elf personnel issues tend to peak about now,” Belle said. “It’s the stress of the season, and with Kris potentially going off the rails, I—”
“I know.” Cole hadn’t considered how this part of his plan would work, but he could see the trap closing on him.
“I have to agree with Noelle,” Dash said. “The driver should be someone with maximum clearance, which means it has to be one of us in this room, and we’re all working on last-minute Christmas preparations. You, not so much. You’re the logical candidate, big brother.”
“Okay.” Cole rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll take the driving duties.”
“In fact, you probably should shadow her while she’s here,” Dash continued. “You know, keep close track of her and make sure she sticks to the program, literally.”
Cole met his brother’s gaze. Mischief danced in those green eyes. “She’s a professional, Dash.”
“If she’s so professional, why did she hack into your database?”
That was an excellent question, one he’d been struggling with. “Maybe for old times’ sake, to prove she could. I don’t know, but I’ll find that out, too. I can assure you, excessive monitoring of her activities won’t be necessary.”
“Maybe not.” Dash winked at him. “But I’ll bet it would be fun.”
Cole glanced away before Dash could read his reaction. Oh, yeah. Monitoring Taryn would be more fun than he’d had in ten years. But indulging in that kind of fun would land both of them in an untenable position. He wouldn’t do that to himself, and he certainly wouldn’t do that to her.
Taryn Harper powered down her computer, picked up her glass of red wine, and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows to admire the view. Her high-rise luxury apartment faced the Seattle harbor, and this time of year it sparkled with festive lights. Christmas was a big deal for a girl born on December 25, and she always made sure to party hearty.
This year she had more elaborate plans than usual, because she was about to hit the big three-oh. She was the highest wage earner among her family and friends, so she’d decided to foot the bill for a Christmas Day cruise through the San Juan Islands. Yes, it might be a tad chilly on deck, but the music and dancing and food inside would keep people warm and happy.
And she would be happy, too, damn it. So what if she didn’t have a yummy guy to invite as her date on the cruise? So what if all her friends had either a serious boyfriend or a husband, and a few had kids, too? She wasn’t in some relationship competition with them, and besides, being unattached allowed her to concentrate on a job that she loved, a job that allowed her to live very well.
But a girl about to turn thirty might logically take stock of her situation and look for loose ends to tie up before launching into her third decade. In Taryn’s case, that meant settling the Cole Evergreen question.
She’d never found out why he had dumped her ten years before, and a lack of resolution made forgetting him near impossible. Well, that, and the memory or how perfect they’d been for each other, mentally and sexually. She needed to talk to the guy, and she knew exactly how to get his attention.
Last night she’d hacked into the Evergreen Industries database and left a clear message—You’re vulnerable. Call me. I can fix it. If he was still the Cole she’d known and loved, she figured he would respond to that. But he hadn’t called, and waiting was no fun.
Maybe he hadn’t found it yet. Maybe he’d found it and was discussing it with his staff. Maybe he was discussing it with whatever woman was currently in his life. He wasn’t married. She’d researched that.
But she was prepared to discover that he was involved with someone. At twenty-two he’d been so beautiful—brilliant green eyes, luxurious dark hair and an amazingly taut body for someone who didn’t put much effort into keeping in shape. And he could make love like no one she’d found since. Add to that his intelligence and his adorable tendency to blurt out the truth, no matter what, and he’d been all she’d ever wanted in a man.
There was the rub. She’d compared every guy who’d come along after to Cole. No one else had stood a chance. And that was why she lived alone in this elegant apartment overlooking the harbor, and why she would be dateless for her birthday party.
Draining her glass, she turned away from the view.
Her intercom buzzed before she’d made it to the kitchen to start dinner. Setting down her wineglass, she walked to the front door and pressed the button connected to the lobby’s video camera. She wasn’t expecting anyone. And then she spotted the man standing in the lobby talking to Tom, the security guard, and nearly had a heart attack. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought Cole would appear in person, and unannounced, at that. She pushed the intercom button. “Hi, Tom.”
“Hello, Miss Harper. You have a visitor. Shall I send him up?”
She gulped. “Yes.” The elevator was fast. He’d be here in no time. Running into the bathroom, she finger-combed her short curls, but she couldn’t change clothes or put on makeup, or—damn it! Her doorbell was already chiming.
Heart pounding, she made herself walk back to the front door, but she was shaking. She fumbled with the lock and finally managed to open it, but her head buzzed from a massive adrenaline rush. “Cole?”
Those emerald green eyes hadn’t lost a fraction of their intensity. His gaze swept over her in typical Cole fashion, as if he were taking inventory. “Hello, Taryn. May I come in?”