Mistletoe Madness

Chapter 3

Tatiana gave the cab driver the address and pulled out her compact to check her makeup. This was work. Not a dinner date. Not an assignation. Work, plain and simple. But, really, she didn’t show up for dinner looking like a hag, regardless of whether it was work or play. And she was not “prettying up” for Cole Mitchell.

She took care of a mascara smear beneath her right eye and refreshed her lipstick even though it looked pretty good, all things considered. Long-wearing lipsticks were a woman’s best friend.

Her hair? Well it was just there. She’d hated the tight corkscrew curls and the dark red color that had plagued her during adolescence. She’d longed for a fall of straight honey-blond hair like that of Rena Pitman who’d sat ahead of her in freshman algebra. Rena’s mane had taunted her relentlessly through complex equations. The same way Rena’s pert little nose had taunted her. Rena’d pretty much embodied every physical trait opposite of Tatiana’s-which was, of course, exactly how Tatiana longed to look.

That was many moons ago, and while she knew she was no great beauty, she’d learned to embrace the traits that were hers alone and set her apart. Or, in the words of Grandma Rumasky, making the most of what God gave her, crazy hair and big nose included. She’d finally stopped being intimidated by the Rena Pitmans and Elles of the world.

She snapped the compact closed and slipped it into her purse. She was within a block and a half of the restaurant.

“Hey, let me off at this corner,” she instructed the cabbie and gathered her shopping bags. She’d walk the rest of the way. It wasn’t hip to admit, but she adored Christmas in New York-all of it. The rampant commercialism, the crowds of shoppers, Santa wannabes clogging the corners, the bell-ringers seeking donations for those less fortunate, the decorations. She simply got too caught up in her obligations sometimes and forgot to enjoy the season.

She paid the driver, pocketed her receipt and turned west toward the restaurant. She shivered into her wool coat and skirted an icy patch on the sidewalk. It was a little colder than she’d thought, but she’d warm up in a minute.

Half a block down, a big yellow school bus sat at the opposite curb loading what must’ve been at least thirty Santas milling about on the sidewalk. It struck her as an only-in-New-York moment. Where were they going, night school for St. Nicks?

She was still smiling when she spotted Cole outside the restaurant. A tremor ran through her. There was something about a man in a black winter coat, even if it was Cole Mitchell. He looked up, and for a split second an unguarded moment shimmered between them, devoid of hostility.

“Hi.” His breath hung like smoke in the cold air.

“Hello,” she said, her breath mingling with his. “Why aren’t you inside where it’s warm?”

“I didn’t want to miss you and I didn’t want you to get here and wait outside, thinking that I hadn’t arrived yet.”

No. This was wrong-and dangerous. She didn’t want to discover any underlying gallantry in Cole. He could save it for someone else. She didn’t like him. She wasn’t going to like him. End of story. “Whatever. Before we go in, I’m Tempest Altman.” Some food critics didn’t use pseudonyms when dining out, but she felt she couldn’t do her best job without anonymity. Once she’d written a less-than-flattering piece when a chef refused to take back an overcooked fish. After the piece came out, the chef remarked he’d have taken it back had he known who she was. Case in point. How could she write an honest piece if restaurants afforded her preferential treatment?

“Tempest suits you.”

“It’s my middle name.”

“Your parents must have been psychic.”

Ha. She was one of the least tempestuous people she knew, except when it came to him. “Apparently I kicked a lot when my mom was pregnant. And I was breach.”

“Why doesn’t this surprise me?” He snapped his fingers. “Maybe because you’re the most contrary woman I ever met.”

Tatiana had a mental image of vacant-minded beauties parading through his past. “From you, I’ll consider that a compliment. I’m sure your ideal woman is a twit.”

“Twit? You wound me, Tempest. Truly.” He clutched at his chest, and it was so ridiculous that had it been anyone else, she would’ve laughed at his melodrama. But he wasn’t anyone else. He was Cole, whose dad had wrangled his esteemed position at Connoisseur, the same position she’d worked her ass off for. “And for your dining pleasure tonight, I’m Mitch Coleman.” He grinned and added under his breath, “It’s easy enough for my simple mind to keep up with.”

“Well, that is a consideration. If you’re done with the theatrics, I’d like to go in before my feet turn to ice.”

He bowed mockingly from his waist and opened the door for her. “After you.”

Did he tack a “Your Highness” on there under his breath?

They were punctual, and the maître d’ promptly seated them at a table midway the room and to the right. Tatiana mentally made a note that none of the wait staff seemed harried despite all the tables being full, and the customers appeared content except for a couple across the restaurant, and that just appeared to be a personal disagreement.

So far, so good.

A few minutes later they’d gone with the sommelier’s wine recommendations for appetizers and dinner. She was glad he’d steered them to midrange choices on the list rather than pushing the higher-end vintages. Another point in the restaurant’s favor if the wine played out as he’d suggested.

She looked across the table into Cole’s silver-blue eyes, and an awkward silence fraught with awareness settled between them. She shifted her silverware a few inches over on the white linen tablecloth. It had been one thing to study the menu and spend time considering and ordering…but now what? They couldn’t exactly discuss work because their cover would be blown if anyone overheard them.

Cole shifted and his knee brushed hers beneath the table. Adrenaline rushed through her, and she made a mental note that the tables were too small and too intimate for a business affair. Affair.Poor choice of word. Make that a meal.

A slow, lazy smile, doubtless intended to disarm, curved his lips. Despite herself, she couldn’t help the instinctive flash of attraction that ricocheted through her.

“I see you wore your boots after all. Very nice choice.” The look in his eyes sent heat spiraling through her.

She shrugged. “Not particularly a choice. I’m too far out to go home and change before dinner.” Not when she was schlepping out to Brooklyn on the train. Manhattan rental prices were definitely out of her league on her salary. And it wasn’t exactly that she was cheap, but she liked to hold on to her money. “Besides, I had some shopping to do.” Secret Santa day two was tomorrow.

The wine steward arrived and served them, immediately followed by the waiter bearing her calamari and Cole’s bruschetta. Calamari wasn’t one of her favorites, but it was a standard in so many restaurants she always ordered it because she knew so many other diners would and it was her job to evaluate the establishment with the diner in mind. She forked up a bite. Nice light batter and a hint of ginger lent an interesting note, but disappointingly the squid itself wasn’t as fresh as it should be given the price attached. The suggested pinot grigio, however, was a perfect companion wine, crisp and delicate. She was about to sample Cole’s bruschetta when a man sporting brushed-back, slightly long blond hair stopped at their table.

“Mitchell? Is that you?” He clapped Cole on the back. “Long time no see. What’s it been? Five years?” After four years of living in New York, Tatiana had gotten pretty good at pegging people. This Matthew McConaughey wannabe exuded Wall Street with his white button-down shirt, top button undone and his loosened tie.

“Something like that.” Cole’s manner, usually annoyingly outgoing and engaging, shifted subtly. He was still smiling, but he’d erected a wall of reserve.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” The man looked pointedly at Tatiana and her flesh crawled. When Cole had looked at her earlier, he’d been sexy and flirtatious. This man’s look made her feel slimy.

Cole turned his attention to her, “Tempest, this is Parker Longrehn. Parker, Tempest Altman.”

“Hello,” she said, pleasant but distant.

“The pleasure’s mine.” The words were innocuous enough, yet his tone left her feeling as if he’d pinched her on the butt.

Cole looked at her as if they’d just rolled out of bed an hour ago, his glance unmistakably possessive. “Tempest is a…very good friend.”

What? Tatiana barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping. She thought about refuting that status, but she decided to go along with him instead, just to see where he was taking this. And particularly because she didn’t want to take anything any further with Parker.

Parker looked pointedly at her naked left finger. “Well, old man, I don’t see any No Trespassing signs posted.”

She and Cole might strike sparks off one another and she might not respect how he got his job, but Parker Longrehn was slick. And presumptuous.And rude as hell, to boot.

Tatiana reached across the tablecloth and twined her fingers with Cole’s. She could swear energy passed between them. “Consider them posted,” she said, casting Cole a smoldering look to reinforce the claim. His return glance sent heat cascading through her, even if it was for Parker Longrehn’s benefit.

“You win some and you lose some.” Parker flashed white teeth, bleached to the near-blue degree, at Tatiana. “But if you decide to trade up…”

This guy, a class-A jerk, deserved to be served. “I already have.” She decided to lay it on thick. “Anyone other than Cole would be trading down.”

Parker’s smile wasn’t quite as nice this time around. Fine. If he thought she was just going to sit here while he insulted Mr. Heated Glance, he had another thing coming. It was one thing for her to insult Cole, but Mr. Blue Teeth needed to rethink his position.

Parker shoved his hand in his pocket. It took Tatiana a second or so to realize he was rolling his change between his fingers. Congratulations. Parker had just won the Cheesy and Annoying Award.

“So.” He turned his attention back to Cole. “I heard your father got married again. Is this four or five?” Parker said.

Cole shrugged. “I’m too busy these days to keep track.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Let me know when you figure it out.”

Parker paused and assumed an expression of rueful sympathy that fooled no one. “Maybe this wife will be happier to have you around.”

“We’ll see, won’t we?” Nothing, absolutely nothing about the cavalier smile on Cole’s face or the droll amusement in his eyes indicated that Parker Longrehn had scored a direct hit, but she felt Cole’s inner wince with some sixth sense she’d never known she possessed. Either that or maybe it was simply the wine on a near-empty stomach.

She piped up in Cole’s defense. This Parker guy was grating on her last holiday nerve. “It’s definitely their loss. My parents adore him almost as much as I do.” She hoped her look approximated fawning adoration, something outside of her usual Cole Mitchell repertoire.

Parker looked down his nose at her, as if that might intimidate her. “Do I know your parents?”

“Not unless you’ve recently visited Yurgash, Indiana.” There you go. She’d just painted herself with the scarlet H to this Manhattanite-Hick.

“I don’t think so. Listen, got to run. Say hi to Connie for me. Stay in touch.”

“Later.”

Parker left, trailing slime behind him. Good freaking riddance. What the hell had that just been all about? And who was Connie?

“Yurgash, Indiana?” Cole raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.Heartland, USA.” And if he thought he was going to gloss over the weirdness of the last five minutes…She stared at him. Waiting. She reached across the table for a bite of his appetizer.

He speared a piece of her calamari. “We were fraternity brothers.” He paused to eat.

Fraternity brothers fit. And Parker was such an absolute…“ARU? And he was the president?”

Cole sipped his wine. “ARU?”

“Assholes R Us.”

He laughed and adopted a hurt expression. “Anyone ever mentioned you’re fickle? A few minutes ago, you and your parents adored me, and now you’re signing me up for ARU.”

Albeit unwillingly, she was amused and intrigued. “Okay, so it wasn’t ARU, but you just publicly claimed me as your girlfriend. Let’s hear what’s behind that, because there’s either a story here or some mental illness floating around. And you’re a lot of things-” annoying, sexy, nepotistic, to name a few right off the top of her head “-but you don’t strike me as mental. I’m putting my dollar on the story.”

She bit into the crusty Italian bread topped with fresh tomatoes, garlic, herbs and slivers of Parmesan cheese. Delicious.The perfect ratio of basil to oregano.

“Parker and I were fraternity brothers. He came home with me one weekend. My sister Connie is three years younger than me.” Ah, so that explained Connie. His sister. Not some former lover. “Parker seduced Connie’s best friend, Bethany. When Bethany turned up pregnant, Parker turned his back on her.” Anger darkened his eyes. “I know it happens, but it broke Bethany’s heart. Her parents had to take the bastard to court to prove, thanks to DNA testing, he was the father. So Bethany has a seven-year-old and Parker has his day-trader career. He’s trouble you don’t need.”

There was something so…well, sweet and downright gallant about him trying to protect her from Parker that she found herself at a loss for words. And God knows that didn’t happen often. “Uh, well, I can take care of myself, but thanks anyway. He was easy to spot with that trail of slime he left behind him.”

“I wasn’t taking any chances. I was responsible for what happened to Bethany because I brought him home with me.”

It was a disconcerting glimpse into his character. Parker was a creep and Bethany’d made a mistake, but even Tatiana couldn’t fault Cole. And she never had any problem faulting Cole. “Did you encourage her to sleep with him? Did you throw a wild party and invite her? Did you ply her with alcohol?”

He shook his head, but the look in his eyes didn’t change. “No. But he showed up with me. I was the reason he crossed her path. So now I don’t take any chances.”

This just sucked. Why couldn’t it have been some maligned ex-girlfriend who’d recognized him and dropped by to vilify him? But no. Now not only did she know he wasn’t vacuous but she had to discover he possessed a damn conscience.

“Why not just tell him to drop dead and get lost?”

Cole offered his familiar grin. “Why give him the satisfaction of knowing he has any impact on my life?”

Hmm. She’d never thought of it from that angle. Yet another insight into Cole Mitchell’s gray matter. “Well, thanks for protecting me from the big, bad…slug.”

Cole laughed and it did funny things to her insides. “Parker wouldn’t mind being called a big, bad wolf. I think he likes to think of himself that way. But a big, bad slug? You know how to wound a man, Tempest.” Now why in the world would that make her feel all fluttery and flushed? “And thanks for jumping in there and backing me up.”

Rather an odd position to find herself in, having his back as opposed to stabbing it. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Certainly not,” he drawled. “It must have been almost painful for you to look at me as if you-” he adopted a horrified expression “-liked me.”

“It was a stretch, but I managed.” She pretended to preen. “Rather well, if I do say so myself.”

“You were brilliant, darling. You almost had me convinced you-what was it?-oh, yeah, adored me. I could get used to being adored.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you. I’m sure it would be all too short-lived.” God help her, but she was enjoying herself. “Maybe if this job doesn’t work out for me I might consider a career in acting. That wasn’t a bad stab at improv considering I didn’t get what was going on. Especially at the end.”

The waiter appeared and cleared their appetizers and refilled the water glasses. Mediocre calamari, excellent bruschetta and flawless service so far.

She looked pointedly at Cole. “So what was that all about at the end?”

“Let’s just say holidays were awkward when we were kids. The new steps weren’t thrilled to have the leftovers from the first marriage show up on the doorstep. Once we were old enough to make our own choices, Connie and I started doing our own holiday thing, just the two of us. Now she has a husband and a munchkin and I get together with them.”

That knocked her notion of him as a pampered daddy’s boy for a loop. She might not be spending Christmas Day in the house she grew up in Yurgash, but it’d still be there whenever she was ready for a trip home. A hint of vulnerability lurked beneath Cole’s droll pronouncement, which he’d probably deny with his last breath.

The waiter served their entrées. Pork medallions for Cole and roasted chicken for her.

“What about you?” he asked. “Are you gearing up for a big holiday?”

“It’ll be quiet.” She gave him the brief overview of her parents’ trip and Grandma Rumasky’s impending nuptials.

“They sound like nice people.”

“They are.” Dammit. Now she felt guilty because he’d obviously been shortchanged in the parental department while she’d grown up with great parents.

“No brothers or sisters?”

“Nope. I’m a lonely only,” she quipped.

“It’s just as well. I don’t think the world could handle another you running around.” His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

Without thinking, she stuck her tongue out at him. Like the dimming of theater lights signaling the beginning of the next act, the mood shifted, intensified. The look in his eyes sent a shiver through her. “So are you?”

Breathing? Yes. A woman?Definitely.Capable of standing with him looking at her that way? Not so sure. This was different from his earlier flirtatiousness in her office. This was quiet and intense…and all the more powerful. “Am I what?”

“Lonely?”

She could easily blow him off, but considering he’d just had one of his own vulnerabilities exposed by Parker the Slug, she answered him truthfully. “Sometimes I wish I’d had a sister. But then I see how many siblings despise one another and I think it’s just a crapshoot.”

“I wasn’t talking about a brother or sister.”

Oh. Her parents had given her a firm foundation. She knew the value of a dollar, hard work and herself. Even though sometimes she longed for something more, it wasn’t loneliness. “No. I’m not. I’m content with my own company.”

Her mind shouted for her to leave it there, but her mouth didn’t seem inclined to cooperate. She plowed forward even though she really shouldn’t ask. She knew too much already. “What about you? Are you lonely?”

“I’ve known a moment or two.” A quiet truth underscored his offhandedness.

This was turning into a true disaster. Not only was she horribly aware of how devastatingly sexy Cole Mitchell was, but now she’d discovered he was a nice guy, as well.