The Nanny And Her Scrooge

“I don’t want to put you out,” she said.

It struck him how there was not a hint of malice in her voice. He’d expected it, guessed he even deserved it. She stood there, looking a little forlorn, her hair all tousled, her cheeks chapped from the bitter wind, and simply met his gaze. Yet there wasn’t a bit of recrimination in her features.

This woman, ephemeral as the snow, was unsettling. She preyed on his protective instincts, making him want to toss a warm coat around her shoulders and press a hot chocolate into her hand. Even in this bitter cold, he’d rather idle with her on a street corner than leave her here.

“You aren’t putting me out,” he said too softly, aware the wind pulled at his words and carried them away. He hesitated, raised his voice, and assumed the stance of a dictator. “You’re either going to come with me, or I’m going to stay here with you, until I’m sure you’re on that bus.”

“If it doesn’t come at all, you’re in for a long wait.”

“Come on,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out his car keys. “Let’s go.”

Without any pretense or further objection, she lowered her head into the wind and followed him.

It was a mere fifty feet to his Lincoln, the doors were unlocked and the engine running before they entered the parking ramp. Thank God for remote control. He could get a little heat into her, get another color other than blue onto her lips.

“Thank you,” she said humbly as he held the door for her.

“It isn’t a courtesy,” he snapped. “Your fingers are probably too frozen to open the door.”

She slipped into the passenger seat, then proved his point by fumbling with the seat belt. Snagging it from her, he righted the buckle, and offered it back, intending to make it manageable. Their fingertips brushed; a ping of electricity ricocheted up his arm.

Startled, they both pulled back.

Jared straightened and, still looking at her, hung an elbow on the top of the car door. “Miss Holliday, can you tell me something? Why can’t you just be an elf and make this easier on me? I know what you’re trying to do. Really. And it’s not going to work. I promise you, it’s not going to work. I deal with people like you every day of the week—and guess what?—I’m the grinch who eats them up and spits them out.”

Chapter Two

Jared’s statement incensed Nicki, but she waited until he’d tossed his briefcase into the back seat and got into the car before answering. “I’m not trying to do anything,” she denied. “And just call me Nicki. It’s not like we have to be formal or anything. Because I don’t work for you. Not anymore. I wouldn’t work for you if you were the last man on earth.”

He arched an eyebrow in her direction, his mouth a hard firm line as he carefully put the key into the ignition. “Look. Do you need a job or not?” he barked.

“Of course, I need a job. Everybody needs a job. To pay the bills, to make the mortgage and the car payments and to eat.”

He snagged a deep, angry breath, nearly scaring Nicki. She put her hand on the door handle, debating whether she should bolt.

“If that’s the case, then why won’t you swallow your pride and accept the one I’ve offered you?”

She slanted him a look, gauging his reaction. “Because I don’t like those hideous green tights and that goofy hat with the bells,” came her flip reply. “I’d feel like an idiot wearing that get-up.”

He sat back and considered, then his mouth twitched and the creases eased from his forehead. He actually laughed. Out loud.

The resonant sound filled the car, unexpectedly warming Nicki and putting some of her fears to rest. Okay, anybody who laughed like that couldn’t be all bad, she conceded.

He dragged a hand over his face, as if the joke were unbearable. “And you don’t feel like an idiot wearing a red velvet Santa suit, slapping a beard on your face, and shouting ho, ho, ho?” he finally asked.

He had her there, and the irony of the situation made her squirm. “Okay, I’ll admit that at the time, I figured it was worth it.”

“What?”

“The job. The money,” she explained wearily, slumping down in the plush seat. “My car died a month ago. It’s going to take a lot of money for repairs.”

“So that’s why you were stranded tonight.”

“I’ve been able to take the bus, but tonight I spent so much time in your office I missed the one at five o’clock. Since I didn’t really have anyone to call…” Nicki let the statement drift, she didn’t want to admit she couldn’t afford a cab, or didn’t have anyone to pick her up.

“So about this elf thing…” he began.

“Forget it. I already talked to the supervisor about that. The elves are typically teenagers and they only do four-hour shifts. Right now, they have too many, anyway.”

“I see.”

Nicki rubbed her arms and shrugged. “No, you don’t.”

His head swiveled and he glanced at her sharply, as if daring her to contradict him.

She gnawed on her lower lip and tried to not shiver in his presence. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was afraid of him. She wouldn’t give him that. She wouldn’t. “I needed a job where I could make some good money in a short amount of time. A good Santa makes a respectable salary, but the elves are gofers who mostly fill the candy-cane jar and make minimum wage, and salesclerks don’t make much more, so that’s out.” She stuck her hands under her arms, trying in vain to warm them. “I don’t know. The Santa pay is really good. Maybe there’s a union label sewn in the Santa suit or something.”

He paused, his features relaxing. “Cute—about the union label. But the fact is the Santa job takes a certain type of person, that’s why it pays so well.”

Nicki studied him briefly, acutely conscious that a portion of his tough-businessman facade had slipped. It made her feel as though a real man existed beneath that intimidating demeanor.

As if it had a will of its own, her hand fluttered across the empty space between them to settle apologetically on his sleeve. “I understand why you felt the way you did about having a grandpa Santa Claus,” she explained softly. “But as I mentioned earlier, I needed to get my car fixed, and I’m expecting to move. It takes money to do that. It’s that simple, really. I’m not trying to buck the system or to cause you problems or even to argue with you.”

He silently stared at her, then dropped his gaze to her fingers that still curled lightly on his forearm. Without shaking her off, he slowly started the ignition. “Why didn’t you tell me that this afternoon?”

Nicki self-consciously slid her hand away, but the feel of cashmere taunted her fingers, and the restrained power throbbing through his muscular forearm sent a surge of exhilaration to her brain. She folded her hands in her lap. “You never gave me the opportunity.”

His mouth firmed and he put the car in gear. They were inching onto the adjacent one-way street when he said, “You didn’t tell me where we were going.”

“Tammany Hills. I’m just a few doors inside the complex.” Another chill struck Nicki and she fought to repulse it. She stiffened and folded her arms across her middle, thinking she didn’t want to explain why, after six months, she still had a Florida wardrobe, a broken-down car, and a financial mess. Her mother had been so sick when she’d finally given up and called her home, all Nicki had had time to do was to care for her mom and ignore the repercussions of her abrupt move. She’d lost a ton of money and incurred a lot of expenses.

“Tammany’s a nice place,” he commented, easing onto the east-west expressway.

She shrugged and glanced out the side window at the residential area next to the highway. There were moments, such as this, when she glimpsed a decorated tree inside someone else’s living room, and felt like an orphan at Christmas. She’d always heard the first year was the worst. “Mmm. Expensive. But the lease is up in a couple of months. It was actually my mom’s place.”

“Nicki…”

She pulled her gaze away, tucking her chin to look up at Mr. Gillette. In the half light of the dash, his features were less imposing. Her eyes lowered to his mouth, and for one crazy moment she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. To experience an unguarded side of him. When he’d accidentally touched her—

“About today,” he went on, unknowingly interrupting her wayward thoughts, “I assumed that you were interested only in a seasonal job. Or a part-time job. If you want a real job, I could probably find you something.”

Her shoulders immediately lifted off the seat. The last thing she wanted was charity. Especially from someone who had dismissed her barely two hours before. “Oh, no. I’m not looking for a handout. You don’t have to be nice to me just because this whole situation is…well, awkward.”

“‘Nice’?” The word harshly rolled off his tongue. “Nicki, understand this, I’m not known for nice. Not even in the most awkward of business situations.”

“Well, I’ll think about it…but…” She turned back to glance out the side window again. She felt a little sad inside—and she knew it didn’t have anything to do with losing her job, or her mom, or all the rest of it. Maybe it was letting go of the illusion. Maybe it was because she was trapped inside a car with a man who obviously didn’t understand the meaning of Christmas. “You know,” she said softly, wistfully, “I really liked being a Santa Claus. I liked being with the kids—that was the best. And the fantasy—especially the one you create at Gillette’s—was all so hopeful, so innocent. Sitting there in Toyland, waving and wishing everyone a merry Christmas made me feel good inside.”

“It’s just that. A fantasy,” he said abruptly, before leaning over and turning up the heat.