A Fool's Gold Christmas
Page 18

She bit the inside of her lip in an attempt to keep from smiling. “No, I’m not.”
“Right.” He grabbed the thick trunk with both hands. “I’m going to give this thing one more try. If I can’t get it to move, I’ll resign myself to slowly starving to death up here.”
He kind of had a point, she thought, realizing the tree blocked the only way up or down.
“On three,” she said, taking hold of the top of the tree and planning to push.
“Don’t help,” Dante told her.
“I’m helping.”
“You’ll get hurt. I can do this.”
As he spoke, he began to pull. Despite his instructions, she pushed from the top. Nothing happened. She pushed harder and felt a little bit of give.
“One more time,” she yelled.
“Stop help—”
But it was too late. She shoved, he pulled and the tree suddenly moved free, zipping up the stairs, hitting Dante in the center of his chest. They both went sprawling.
Evie found herself flying forward. She braced herself on her hands and landed somewhat gently on the stairs, facedown.
“You okay?” she asked, almost afraid to stand up and look.
“Fine.” Dante’s voice was slightly strangled.
“I’m going to order a pizza. Pepperoni all right with you?”
“Sure.”
She rolled onto her back and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, then called the local pizza place and put in their order. After she’d hung up, she stood and brushed off the needles decorating the front of her coat. Finally, she risked looking upstairs.
Dante still lay on his back, the tree on top of him, the base of its trunk maybe three inches from his chin.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked.
“Not really.”
She went upstairs and helped roll the tree off of him. He rose and glanced down at the tree on the floor and the layer of needles everywhere.
“Whose idea was this?” he asked.
“My boss’s.”
“I admire her willingness to delegate.”
An hour later the tree was in the stand and the lights were strung. When the pizza guy arrived, Dante disappeared downstairs to pay him and returned with a pizza box, a bottle of wine and two wineglasses.
“I didn’t order wine,” she said. “Do they deliver wine?”
“They do not. We have a small wine cellar in the office.”
“Because you never know when you’re going to need a bottle of merlot to get through the day?”
“Something like that.”
While she served their pizza, he opened the wine and then poured. They settled across from each other and each grabbed a slice. The scent of pine mingled with the fragrance of cheese and pepperoni.
“Wine, pizza and a Christmas tree,” she said. “What’s not to like?”
“Can I get back to you on that?”
“Don’t be a Grinch. You know this is fun.”
His blue eyes brightened with amusement. “You’re fun. Is that enough?”
“It works for me.”
He glanced at the tree, then back at her. “You’ve been talking about getting one of those for your place. Still thinking it’s a good idea?”
“I am. I’m also thinking of getting a cat.”
“As a decoration?”
“I’m not sure he would like that idea.”
“He? You’ve got a cat in mind?”
She thought about the black-and-white one she’d seen at the shelter. Despite how busy she’d been, he kept popping into her mind.
“Sort of. He was very sweet and needs a forever home.” She was still getting used to the idea.
“Cats are okay,” Dante said, surprising her.
“I would have thought you were the dog type. You know, slavish devotion and someone to play fetch with.”
“I don’t have any burning desire to play fetch, and I respect how cats make you earn their interest. Cats are like lawyers. Discreet, quiet and watchful.”
She managed to keep from choking as she laughed. “You’re a weird guy. You know that, right?”
“It’s been hinted at before.” He looked at the tree. “Your students are going to be excited.”
“I’m sure it will help with the holiday spirit.” She thought about what he’d told her about his upbringing. “What were Christmases like when you were a kid?”
He shrugged and reached for his glass of wine. “Quiet. Good. We didn’t have a lot of money and it was just my mom and me, but we had fun. We went to midnight services on Christmas Eve. I understood we were poor and didn’t expect a lot, but Mom always made the day special.” He hesitated. “I miss her at the holidays.”
Evie nodded. “Sure. She was your family.”
“She would have liked you.”
Evie told herself not to read too much into the statement. “Thank you. I would have loved to have met her.”
He sipped his wine. “What about you and your family?”
“Christmases were loud,” she said remembering her brothers getting the family up early to see all the presents. There were other memories—times when she’d felt left out, but she wasn’t in the mood to explore them.
“After my mom died and I was sent to the military school, Christmas was different,” Dante said. “They kept us on campus. My senior year, one of the sponsors invited a couple of us to his house for Christmas.” He reached for another slice of pizza and grinned. “Let’s just say it’s the first time I figured out the rich really are different.”
“Nice house?”
“Nice mansion. It was three stories, I don’t know how many bedrooms. I’d never seen a tree that big, even at the mall. The family had presents for us and a stocking. I’d never had a stocking before.”
“We always had stockings,” Evie said, remembering her twelfth Christmas, when her mother had given her lip gloss and mascara. An acknowledgement that the teen years weren’t that far away.
There were good memories, she reminded herself. Maybe instead of focusing on the ones that were bad, she should start looking for the more pleasant ones.
“Have you talked to Gideon?” Dante asked, his voice casual.
“About the narration? Not yet. He left me a message. I need to call him back. He said he has some ideas about the story. Why?”
“He mentioned it at the book wrapping.”
She glanced at Dante, wondering if she was imagining things or if he genuinely wasn’t pleased about her working with Gideon. In your dreams, she thought, taking a sip of her wine. While the idea of Dante jealous was kind of exciting, reality was very different. He’d made it clear what he was and wasn’t looking for in their relationship. Them being together was all about getting through the holidays, about having fun together. Neither of them was committed to anything else, and if she allowed herself to think anything different, she was opening herself up to a world of hurt.
Chapter Fourteen
“Extend,” Evie said, holding out her arm to demonstrate. “Reach and lift.” She turned slowly, then sank down into the final move.
Lillie smiled. “You’re so good,” she said with an easy smile. “When you do it, it looks right.”
“It looks right when you do it, too.” Evie stepped behind the girl so they were both facing the mirror. “Now lift and reach and lift.”
She moved with Lillie, lightly pressing her palm against the girl’s back to keep her straight.
“Lean, turn, stretch.”
Lillie did as instructed. She made one last turn and sank down, her fingertips curled delicately, her wrists perfectly bent.
“See,” Evie said approvingly. “That was perfect.”
Lillie jumped to her feet and spun in a circle. “I got it! I got it!”
“Look at you,” Patience said, walking in to the studio.
“Mom!” Lillie ran to her mother, her arms outstretched. “Did you see me?”
“I did. Lillie, that was beautiful.”
Lille dashed off to collect her coat. Patience turned to Evie.
“Thanks for working with her. I know she doesn’t get the steps as quickly as the other girls.”
“She works hard and has fun. As long as she’s enjoying the classes, I’m thrilled to have her. She’s a great kid.”
“Thank you.”
Evie knew that Dominique would say Lillie was one of the “unfortunates.” Those not blessed with the dancing gene. But Evie found a special kind of pleasure teaching the Lillies of the world. As far as Evie was concerned, if Lillie enjoyed herself and ended up with good memories about her part in the performance, then the experience was a total success for both of them.
“Are you staying sane?” Patience asked. “I heard the cheerleaders wanted your help with their Pom-Pom-A-Thon.”
“I’m running ragged,” Evie admitted. “But only a couple more weeks and everything will be done. Then I can collapse through New Year’s.”
“Tell me about it.”
Lillie returned, her boots on her feet and her ballet shoes in her hand. “I’m ready, Mom.”
“Okay. Off we go. We have to stop at the grocery store and get more supplies. Your grandmother is still on a cookie tear.” Patience waved. “Hang in there and I’ll do the same.”
“Will do.”
She and Lillie left. Evie glanced at the clock. She had about an hour until her next class. Time enough to grab something to eat and maybe stop by Morgan’s Books for something to read. As soon as Christmas was over, she was going to put her feet up and not move for a week. There were no classes between the twenty-sixth and the first of the year. While she couldn’t afford a real vacation, she could hide out and rest.
“You’re starting a cult.”
She looked up and saw Dante standing in the doorway to the studio. As always, the sight of him set her heart beating a little faster.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“Those girls. You’re training them to take over the world.”
She laughed. “You’re not making any sense.”
He walked toward her and took her hand, then led her to the window in the reception area.
“Look down there,” he said, pointing. “What do you see?”
“Lillie and Patience.”
“And how is Lillie wearing her hair?”
Evie saw the braids tightly wrapped around her head, then reached up and touched her own.
“A coincidence.”
“I don’t think so. All your students are copying you. It’s charming.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “You’re their role model.”
“I think I’m more of a cautionary tale.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”
He turned her toward him and kissed her again, this time on her mouth.
“What time’s your last class?” he asked.
“I finish at six and then I head over to the ranch for the hayrides.”
“Me, too.” He groaned. “I’d rather be home, having takeout with you.”
“Me, too.” She put her hands on his shoulders and stared into his blue eyes. “But instead, you’re helping my family. You’re a really good guy. I don’t usually fall for the good ones. I tend to be attracted to the losers of the world.”
He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “It’s the sex. You can’t help yourself.”
Evie was still laughing as he strolled down the stairs.
* * *
“I DON’T THINK SO,” Evie said, staring at herself in the mirror.
“Come on,” Annabelle said, handing over a set of pointed ears. “You look adorable. I can’t do it.” She patted her belly. “I’m pregnant. How would that look? And Heidi has to handle the petting zoo. You know how the goats get when they have company. They’re all so happy, they could accidentally knock over a four-year-old.”
Evie stared down at herself. She was wearing a green flared skirt, a long-sleeved red-and-green sweater, along with red-and-white-striped tights. Finishing up the outfit was a green hat and elf ears and pointy green elf shoes.
“I don’t want to be an elf,” she muttered. “What was I thinking?”
Annabelle beamed at her. “That’s the spirit.”
“I’m crabby.”
“Crabby works, as long as you smile for the pictures. Come on. I just heard a car pull up.”
Somehow, when she hadn’t been looking, Evie had been roped into helping with the annual hayrides at the ranch—a tradition Heidi and her grandfather had started when they’d first moved to the ranch a couple of years ago. Families drove out for an old-fashioned hayride. The various animals were available for petting, families could take pictures, and if they were very lucky, it might snow.
Evie sort of remembered agreeing to help, but that was before she’d figured out how busy she was going to be with the production and the other activities someone always seemed to be volunteering her for.
“I wrapped books,” she told Annabelle. “Isn’t that enough?”
Annabelle raised her chin. “Excuse me, but I’m not in charge of the hayrides. That’s Heidi’s thing.”
“Right,” Evie muttered, following her pregnant sister-in-law to-be out of the guest bedroom and toward the rear of the house.
She wanted to complain that she’d had to help everyone. Heidi tonight, Annabelle with the books, her mother with the pet adoption. Only all three of her brothers had shown up to refurbish her production sets, so it wasn’t as though she could really complain. And in truth it was kind of fun to be with everyone, in a low-key setting. Still, these were the most intense holidays she could remember.