Mistletoe Madness Page 2

  She smoothed a hand down her dress. It was her favorite design—a crème colored satin, covered by white lace that had a scooped neckline and hugged her body perfectly. She wasn't a model, by no means. Her curvy size twelve was considered old cow size in the modeling world, but she was healthy and could eat whatever she liked, so to hell with the industry. It was one of the main reasons why she owned her own dress shop and designed for the individual. Plus, Antwerp was so small that a woman had to drive an hour to get to a decent place to clothes shop, so she filled a basic need for the community that helped raise her.

  Andrew's car pulled into the parking lot just as she was about to head inside on her own. He was fifteen minutes late, which was odd for a man who believed punctuality was one of the Ten Commandments. As she waited, he exited the vehicle and reluctantly turned the keys to his Mercedes over to the valet. Straightening his impeccably tidy tie, he approached her with a smile. He really was a gorgeous male, one that would fit right in with her father's designs for her future. She realized it wouldn't be a bad thing if he asked her to marry him. After all, she wasn't getting any younger. She did want a family and a husband at some point.

  "Hello, Isabella." He placed a firm hand on her elbow and escorted her through the door. "Sorry I'm a little late. I was kept at work longer than I expected. You know how busy the boss keeps me." She nearly rolled her eyes at his familiar phrase. Yes, her father was technically one of his bosses, but that didn't make the phrase funny after hearing it for the thousandth time.

  "I don't mind. You were only a little late." She allowed him to pull her chair out for her. "Thank you." She waited for him to be seated and order for them. Instead, he looked a bit uncomfortable as he told the waiter to give them a few minutes before ordering. His long fingers toyed with the empty wine glass in front of him. She swallowed a lump in her dry throat as his unnatural silence ate at her confidence. Here it was. He was going to pop the question so he would know what kind of wine to order. It was so Andrew; conservative and logical. Holy Hannah! Could she really see herself tied to him in wedded bliss for the rest of her life? She doubted it.

  "Isabella, I have something to ask you, but I'm a little hesitant to do it."

  "Then maybe you shouldn't. We can wait until after we eat." She was trying to postpone it, but he shook his head.

  "This can't wait, I'm afraid. I need an answer from you as soon as possible." Oh, no. Here it comes! "I know you aren't a frivolous Christmas fanatic; which is the only reason I'm asking you this." He took a deep breath, locked eyes with her, and took her hand in his. Izzy wanted to push her chair back and run, but she couldn't make a scene like that in Michaela's. A lot of her customers came here for dinner, and in a small town like Antwerp, the rumors would fly.

  "Andrew..."

  "I have to go out of town for Christmas. I was hoping you could watch my apartment for me. I have a few things being delivered in the next few days, and I really don't want to leave them at the mercy of my neighbors."

  Izzy blinked at him from across the romantic candlelit table. She tilted her head with her mouth opening like a fish gasping for air. "What?"

  "I wouldn't care, but the items are pricy, and I don't want to lose them. I know you close the shop for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. You can escape your family's boring party and stay at my place. This gives you the perfect excuse to avoid your family and will guarantee my packages are received by someone I trust. It is the perfect solution to both our problems." His expression was filled with confidence and pride, which meant he didn't have a clue why she felt like laughing and crying at the same time.

  "Where are you going?" She managed to mumble out once she caught her breath.

  "Well, one of my clients was very satisfied by the outcome of her case. I won her a huge settlement. She's invited me to a party on her yacht to celebrate her win and the holidays. I can't pass it up, Isabella. The guests are some very important people, some from outside this area. Imagine...I could gain some potentially important clients for the firm." He shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe even make partner, finally."

  "Are you talking about Maggie O'Neil?" Izzy's fingers dug into her thighs. Oh, she knew Maggie from way back. Elementary school type of way back. Maggie was the girl who had set the stage for every fashion trend and popular phase in school. She went to college, married a football jock, and rode him all the way to a Super Bowl ring. Izzy heard she was back in town newly divorced, but she hadn't seen her yet.

  "I'm not supposed to say, but this is such a gossip hive you probably already know what she's serving for dinner on Christmas Day." His charming grin didn't move her. Outraged shock had her leaning back in her seat.

  "Let me get this straight. You'd rather go on a cruise with newly divorced Maggie O'Neil than spend Christmas with me?"

  "Is that a problem?" He raised a brow in a mocking gesture.

  "Hell, yeah, that's a problem. Andrew, you didn't even ask if I wanted to come with you."

  "I didn't think you'd care to join us, to be perfectly honest. Don't be jealous, Isabella. Maggie and I are just friends like you and Dork boy. Besides, I know the holidays aren't that important to you, so I figured you wouldn't mind. By the look on your face, I'd say I was wrong, if I didn't know you so well." His charming lawyer smile came out, making her instantly want to hit him.

  "If you're doing this to make a point or to get back at me for having a male friend, then you are being irrational and childish. For the hundredth time, Dane is a friend. He's always out with someone else, so I don't get your jealous streak. Not when I have wanted you to come over and spend some time with him as well."

  "Maybe when we get back, you can come to dinner with me and Maggie. I hear you used to be friends back in the day."

  "I wouldn't call Maggie a friend." Izzy reached up and grabbed the cloth napkin off the table to give her hands something to do. She took a deep breath that calmed her pounding heart. Irritation and anger warred within her, but though she was a bit jealous, she was also disappointed that he was trying to be so petty. She wasn't that hurt or worried about him screwing her blonde nemesis from high school. What did that say about their relationship?

  "Andrew, was that all you wanted to ask me tonight?"

  "Yes." He took a sip of water and then glanced up at her over the rim of his glass. "What did you think I wanted from you? Surely, you didn't expect me to want to spend Christmas with your family, again?" His snide tone implied that he found that idea about as delightful as taking a bath in a shark-infested pool.

  "What's so bad about spending one night with my family?"

  His glass made a thudding noise as it hit the table. "Besides having to help your father read directions for fancy toys that he isn't going to listen to. Or how about listening to your macho brothers bicker about football or who cheated at poker, which, by the way, is illegal? And don't get me started on those bratty kids that don't mind anyone—"

  "Hey! You have a point with my father and my brothers, but you better keep your opinions on my nieces and nephews to yourself!" She glared at him as he raised his hands in surprised surrender.

  "I'm sorry, you're right. I apologize but admit it. Even you go out of your way to avoid them and the holiday festivities. I'm giving you an out this year. You can curl up on my couch, watch girlie movies, and eat chocolate bonbons until I get home. You might have to miss out on your girl's night with the Rock wannabe, though."

  "How many times do I have to tell you that Dane and I are just friends? I've invited you to join us time and time again, but you don't want to get to know him."

  "I'm sure Rocky and I would have so much in common." His sarcasm irritated her. She didn't like the way he always referred to Dane without using his name.

  "You know, I thought you were going to ask me an entirely different question tonight. What a mistake that would have been!"

  "A different question? What kind of question?" His eyebrows rose in surprise and then a cocky grin lit up his face. "Oh, Isabella, yo
u didn't really think I'd ask you to marry me, did you?" He laughed and shook his head.

  "What is so funny about that, Andrew?"

  His expression sobered, and he reached for his glass of ice water as if realizing he had crossed a line into treacherous waters. "I just thought you knew that I don't intend to get married," he said with a shrug.

  "You don't?" She was a bit surprised at that since he'd never mentioned an aversion to getting married. Of course, they hadn't talked about it, either.

  "No, I don't. Come on, Isabella. You don't really want to get married, either. I see the way you are around your family. You try to avoid everything domestic."

  "I have never avoided my family, Andrew. I would love to avoid Christmas, but that has nothing to do with them."

  "I know you lost your mother. That was years ago. It is irrational to blame a loss like that on an entire holiday. You use it as an excuse." He pointed a finger at her. "You don't want the trappings of a husband and bratty children, which makes this the perfect arrangement."

  Disappointment and hurt nearly choked her as she sat there studying his handsome face. Oh, she had feelings for him. She had even held hopes that they might one day get married and settle down with kids, but now... "One question. Why did your secretary want my ring size?"

  "So, that's why you were expecting a proposal." He reached across and took her hand. "Isabella, I wanted to buy my mother a family ring and I remembered that you were exchanging rings last summer and wore the same size. I didn't mean for you to jump to the wrong conclusions about it."

  "I see. It was pretty silly of me."

  "There's my girl." He grinned and turned to the steward, an older gentleman by the name of Robert. She knew him well, since he was Michaela's uncle.

  "Would you like to try one of our house wines, sir, or perhaps something more sparkling for this evening?" Robert asked politely as he sent a wink of recognition toward her.

  "I think a house wine will do."

  "No, this is a special night, Robert. Bring us your best wine; something sweet and red, please." Izzy smiled at the man who had yanked her and Michaela out of more scrapes than she wanted to admit. She ignored the questioning look her companion sent her way.

  "Right away, Izzy. Take your time perusing our menu and I will send someone over to take your order."

  "Thank you." She waited until he was gone before looking up at Andrew.

  "That was a little frivolous of you. You do realize their best wine is over five hundred dollars?" She wanted to laugh at the way his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

  "I think tonight is going to be worth it." She smiled at him. "I have to ask you a question. What would you say if I told you I have always wanted to be married?"

  "I'd be disappointed and a little surprised, since your shop and your social life mean more to you than family." His frank answer stung. "Come on, I have tried to feel you out about moving in with me to get you out of that little, stuffy box you call an apartment. Every time I mention it, you freak out like I'm suggesting a room at Dannemora State Prison."

  "I'm sorry." She sighed and twisted her napkin in her lap. He had a point, and she knew it. "I'm not ready for that."

  "I know."

  "If I did move in with you, that is as far as this relationship would go. Marriage is off the table. I get that, but what if I told you I want at least two children?"

  "I would have to wish you well and resign myself to be your friend. I don't want children, Isabella. My parents made my life hell. I won't do that to another human being." He looked a little sad as his blue eyes searched her face. "You are serious, aren't you?"

  "Very." She sat up straight and forced a smile as Robert brought the bottle of wine and an ice bucket to keep it chilled. He filled Andrew's glass, waited for him to take a sip, and accept it, and then filled hers. He set the bottle in the ice bucket and moved away. Izzy picked up her glass and swirled the red liquid. She adored wine.

  "Well, where does that leave us?" she asked him.

  "I guess we can be friends." He took a deep swig and then set the glass down on the table with a thunk.

  "I'd like that."

  "Besides, now you can spend more time with the muscle-bound airhead who takes up your every Wednesday night." She didn't miss the edge to his tone. There was a silent accusation in it. He didn't like Dane, didn't like her spending time with him, and most especially detested the fact that they had businesses so close together.

  Izzy grabbed her glass, lifted it to her mouth, and drained it in one gulp. Setting it down on the table, she met Andrew's disapproving look head on. "Dane is not an airhead. He's an honorable man who served his country to protect us. He is a successful businessman and a wonderful friend. I don't appreciate the way you talk about him behind his back. I'm sure you wouldn't have the guts to say anything to his face. As for our—what did you call it? Oh, right—perfect arrangement, it's over. I will leave you with a few tips, though. One, try to go out of your way to pick the next girl up at her house. No woman wants to feel like she isn't worth a ten-minute trip. Two, tell her right off that you just want a booty call, don't waste her time. And three, if you're going away on a trip, don't ask her to house-sit your mail while you spend a holiday on a boat with a sexy blonde. I hope you enjoy your cruise and good luck satisfying your client." She reached across, grabbed up his glass, and drained it.

  "Good wine." She picked up the bottle as she stood. "This is too good to stay here with you." She ignored her name as she walked right out of the restaurant. Her hands shook as she unlocked her car door with her key fob.

  Chapter Three

  Wednesday, December 18th

  She was a mess! There was no denying it. Her day consisted of trying to wrangle a five-year-old flower girl into a dress two sizes too small while keeping an eye on the mother of the bride who didn't like anything her daughter picked out and had already paid for. To make matters worse, Kitty had called in with a bad case of food poisoning. She would have loved to vent her feelings on her failed relationship with Andrew, but she couldn't do it while her friend was making barfing noises on the phone. Izzy promised to go over to her house at lunchtime to check on her. There wasn't much else to do for the poor woman but take her Ginger ale and Saltine crackers.

  The only silver lining Izzy managed to see in the dark thunderstorm that was her social life was that this was Wednesday. Time for her favorite day of the week—Hump Day Lollapalooza! Every Wednesday night was booked for wine, chocolate, and a movie with one of her best friends.

  On a dark and stormy summer night two years earlier, Dane came upon her down on her knees in mud as she tried to fix a flat on her vintage Camaro. He immediately set about changing her tire, making a three-hour job for her a fifteen-minute task for him. When Dane asked her if she'd like to go for drinks, she was eager to accept. During the short hour they spent at the bar, she found they had a lot in common. They both loved watching horror movies and enjoyed a glass of wine. She suggested he come over the next night for a movie, and he accepted. It was the epic start of their friendship and Hump Day Lollapalooza.

  It still amused Izzy that at first, she'd seriously considered getting into his pants, but their relationship transitioned easily into the comfy friend slot. She adored him too much to try anything that might jeopardize their friendship. Dane was the kind of friend a girl could relax around, which meant dressing in her favorite frog print pajamas without make-up was steadfastly ignored by him. Dane didn't care if she pulled her long hair up in a messy ponytail. He didn't even blink an eye when she neglected to wear a bra beneath her tank top. They were buddies, which meant if they wanted to vent about the opposite sex to each other, then the other person wouldn't take offense, but offered comfort and suggestions. Theirs was a supportive friendship.

  When she arrived home, Izzy tidied up her small apartment in record time; an easy chore since her second-story apartment consisted of a small living room, kitchen, bedroom, and a small closet of a bathroom
. Dane was forever banging his head on the slanted ceiling over her toilet. The man would hit his head in an ordinary-sized room, but her "dwarf's john", as he called it, led to softly muttered curses and mild concussions every time.

  Exactly at eight o'clock her door opened, and she heard him stomping the snow off his boots on her welcome mat. "Snowing like a bitch out there, Iz." His deep voice echoed around her apartment, making her grin as she met him at the entryway to her kitchen.

  "Did you walk over, Dane? I would have picked you up." She leaned against the frame of the wall and watched him shrug out of a brown sheepskin jacket. His curly, black hair was wet and dusted with snow, some falling to his shoulders as he tossed the jacket over the back of one of her two kitchen chairs. He shook himself like a dog shaking off water. The action made her want to giggle at him, but she pressed her lips together tightly instead. One false move and she'd find herself headfirst in the cold, wet snowbank in front of her building.

  "No problem, I like the walk. Besides, I don't like parking my truck on the side of the road. I don't fancy having to shovel it out when the plow comes by."

  She couldn't argue with that. His truck was safer in the parking lot behind their businesses, and it was only a couple blocks to her small apartment. Still, she made a mental note to give him a quick ride back once the movie was over.

  "Hey, Iz, what is the ring of green stuff hanging on your door?" His dark brows drew together as he slowly looked her over.

  "I believe it is called a wreath, Dane old chap. You know, a decoration of Winter Solstice origins, usually made of pine boughs and berries—"

  "Yeah, yeah...I got that, but what is it doing on your door? You're the Grinch who wears pretty dresses and spurns Christmas cheer." His eyes turned a light green, a sure signal that he was teasing her. She loved how Dane's eyes changed colors like a kaleidoscope. They were light green when he was in a joking mood, darker when he was pissed at something, and almost sea blue when he was happy or drunk. She thought them the prettiest eyes she'd ever seen on a man, not that she'd tell him that. He'd probably chuck her in the snow for sure!