Stockings and Suspenders (25 page)

She tried to speak. Joey put one hand
up to halt her back into silence.

“Please, just hear me out. Since I
first walked into the bakery, I’ve liked you. At first it was just a passing
thing, or so I thought. You’re smart, hardworking, attractive, and funny when
you want to be. For me, you are the perfect package, and last night, well, it
was wild in a good way. I’d hate to see you toss it all away because you have
some strange idea that we shouldn’t be more than friends.”

She smiled. “It was for me too.”

“What I’m asking is for you to give me
a chance. I think that we could be good together. I’m not that bad of a guy. I
think you know me by now.”

Silence passed between them as she
thought about everything he had said. “Okay.” She was like ice, but slowly she
was melting. Maybe she needed someone in her life. Maybe she needed him more
than she thought. She’d been alone for far too long and deep down it felt good
to make a connection again with a man. And it wasn’t like she didn’t know him.

“Okay what? Are you going to come with
me this evening?” he asked.

“Yes. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to
try and get into the swing of things. You know how I feel about the whole
Christmas thing, so I can’t promise you anything.”

Joey came to her and kissed her on the
cheek. “Just promise me that you will try. That’s all I ask.”

“Fair enough. By the way, where did
you learn to do all that stuff with your tongue?”

He turned crimson. “Way to change the
conversation.”

“It’s a skill of mine,” she replied.
“Call it a gift if you like.”

“Be good Ms. James or I just might
have to punish you.” He winked. “A good spanking might be in order.”

“Promises, promises.”

In one sweeping gesture, Joey swept
her into his strong arms. Maybe it was going to be a great Christmas after all.

The End

Other Books by Xondra Day:

Power Play

Beyond Friends

The Blood Between

SANTA'S LITTLE HELPER

Kelly Yeakle

Copyright © 2011

Chapter One

Miranda stood outside O'Hurleys
department store frowning at nothing in particular. The fight with her father
had been bad enough he'd threatened to take her trust fund away if she didn't
get her shit together. No trust fund meant she wouldn’t have any income and her
life as she knew it would be over. There’d be no parties, or new clothes, and
she’d lose her lavish NY apartment which wasn’t something she could stand to
have happen.

“Where's your life headed, Miranda?”
Her father had asked from behind the desk in his study. “You manipulated your
way through high school, turned down going to college, and for what? Now you're
a professional party girl. It’s just not acceptable.”

“I do things," she whined. “Just
last Saturday I helped Tina run the soup kitchen down in Creekside.”

“One good deed does not make up for a
lifetime of being a spoiled brat.” He frowned at her, distaste evident in his
tone. “Your mother and I didn’t raise you to be so selfish, and so we’ve
decided it's time for things to change.”

“What do you mean?” Miranda didn't try
to hide the fear in her voice. The truth was she was afraid of her father, and
he had all the control.

“I'm revoking access to your trust
fund temporarily.” He pulled a manila folder from the pile on his desk and
handed it to her. “You can keep your apartment, for now. I've had all your mail
forwarded here, so the bills will be paid on time. But, if you don't show a
vast improvement in the next two months, you'll lose it, too.”

“Daddy.” Miranda gave him her best
rendition of puppy dog eyes. “You can't do this to me. How will I live?”

“You're going to find a job, Miranda,
and learn some responsibility.” He smiled at her then. “Up until now you've
been handed everything. It's time you actually make something of yourself, and
earn your own keep. If you can do that, then I reinstate your trust fund
payouts at the bank.”

“But, Daddy.” Her tone was shrill,
tears evident in her voice. “Isn’t there some other way I can show you I’m
responsible?”

“This isn’t a debate, Miranda.” He
waited until she took the folder from his outstretched hand. “Here’s a list of
places that are hiring. I suggest you start looking right away. The job market
is a competitive place, especially around the holidays.”

The conversation still made her
cringe, and she didn’t understand what her parents’ problem was. She didn’t
hurt anyone or cause any trouble. Just because she didn’t live her life the way
they did, didn’t mean she was doing it wrong.

 Her cell phone sounded in her purse,
her father’s ring tone, but Miranda ignored it as she stood on the sidewalk
outside the main doors of the building. She'd been to every well-known
establishment in New York City and she'd been rejected from every job she
applied for. “We're very sorry, but you have no experience and being so close
to the holidays we just don't have time to train someone new.” It was the same
everywhere she went until Miranda felt that her head was going to explode.
Answering the phone would mean telling that to her dad, and she wasn’t ready to
face him yet. O’Hurleys was her last chance, and she was determined not to
screw this one up.

She didn't want to work in a
department store. She wanted a job where no one she knew would see her, but
those were all taken and she was forced to try her hand in the retail market.
She walked into the management office at O'Hurleys determined to have a job
when she left, no matter what she had to do. Miranda couldn’t face another
rejection, and worse than that she didn’t want to have to tell her father she’d
failed. Failure meant her life was over.

“Miss Wilson.” The man looked at her
from head to toe making her feel very self-conscious in the dark blue skirt and
blazer she’d chosen. Perhaps she should have picked the black one so she could
have worn her Jimmy Choos. The blue stilettos were cute, but maybe not as
stylish as O’Hurleys preferred. “I'm Craig Davis,” he continued.  “Please step
into my office.”

Craig’s hair was sandy blond and
secured at the nape of his neck with an elastic band. He wore an AC/DC t-shirt
and a pair of well-worn jeans. He didn’t fit the mold of what she thought the
manager of a high-profile department store should, but if he offered her a job
she didn’t care about the clothes he wore or how he styled his hair.

His laid back appearance shouldn’t
have interested her, but it did. He was sexy in a grunge rock kind of way. Yes,
he looked like the lead singer of every garage band she’d ever seen, was the
total opposite of all the guys she’d ever been with, and she found herself
instantly attracted.

Craig Davis was not the type of guy
she could take home to meet her father. He probably wouldn’t pass inspection,
and she was trying to be responsible. Miranda labeled him as off limits, took a
deep breath, and when her nerves settled just enough that she felt comfortable
she walked past him.

Craig's office consisted of an old
wooden desk, two fold out chairs, and piles of paperwork strewn about the room.
The only light was from an old lamp, whose shade was so tattered she thought it
might catch fire if he wasn't careful. She looked carefully at the chair he
offered and continued to stand until she received an eyebrow raise from him. She
smiled politely and took her seat before he thought her snobbish.

Craig sat in the other chair, across
the desk from her with a blank expression. “I've been over your application,
and I'm not sure there's anything here at O'Hurleys I can offer you at this
time.” Craig began the speech she was so used to hearing after two weeks of
failed interviews.

“Please.” She looked at him with
determination on her face. She would not take no for an answer.

“You have no experience, and with
Christmas right around the corner my staff is limited. I can’t pull someone off
the sales floor to train you.” Craig folded his hands on the desk and looked at
her. “I’m sorry.”

“There has to be something available.
I'll be honest Mr. Davis, I'm desperate.” Miranda scooted to the edge of the
chair, leaned forward, and crossed her arms under her breasts pushing them up
to almost spill out of the top of her bra. She hoped a view down her shirt
would change his mind.

She saw Craig’s eyes wander down
before he scanned the file on his desk again. “There is something, but I don't
think it's what you had in mind, and it’s only a seasonal position.”

“I'll take it.” She beamed at him from
across the desk. She didn’t need to think it over. A job was a job, and
whatever he had was good enough to get her father off her back. She only had to
prove she was responsible; she didn’t have to keep it forever.

“Don't you want to know what it is?”
Craig looked at her with a puzzled expression.

“It doesn't matter what it is.”
Miranda beamed. “It's my saving grace.”

If it wasn’t totally inappropriate,
she would have rushed over and given him a sloppy kiss on the lips. Without
thinking about it, her eyes traveled to his mouth. She bit her own lip as she
fantasized kissing his.

“Okay then. I'll fax your application
through and get your ID number.” Craig smiled back at her. “Be here Saturday at
ten and I'll show you the ropes.”

“Thank you, Mr Davis,” she said,
snapping out of her naughty thoughts.

“Please, call me Craig.” He reached
out to shake her hand. “Welcome to the team.”

Miranda placed her hand in his, a spark
traveled up her arm, and she shivered all the way down her spine. While she
fidgeted to cover the sensation, she couldn't help but notice the way he
squirmed too.
She cleared her throat. “Thank
you, Craig.” She stepped back and turned to go, adding an extra ounce of swish
in her hips as she exited his office. Just because she’d decided he wasn’t an
avenue she could pursue, didn’t mean she couldn’t tempt him. The level of
happiness she was feeling was beyond anything she could imagine.
Who knew
finding a job could be so satisfying?

"Miss Wilson." She turned at
the mention of her name, anticipating his smile, but met a blank expression
again. "You’re not going to want to wear heels to work."

She nodded before continuing on her
way. Perhaps the fact that she was taller than him in her stilettos bothered
him. It didn't matter; she had plenty of ballet flats at home to wear.

"My first job," she
whispered to the air. "How exciting!"

* * * *

Benny shook his head as he took
another swallow of beer. "I can't believe you, man. A girl who you know
isn't qualified to run a free Popsicle stand gives you puppy-dog eyes and you
give her exactly what she wants"

"I don't think she's dumb,"
Craig countered. "Spoiled, yes. Immature, probably. But not dumb." He
took the shot of whiskey quickly and chased it with a drink of beer. "The
holidays are coming up and she needed a job.” He checked over the menu to see
the daily specials. “Besides, she's going to be one of Santa's little helpers
at the photo kiosk. How bad can it be?"

“You like her.” Benny laughed and
finished off his beer. He flagged down the waitress for another round and
turned his attention back to Craig. “It’s written all over your face.”

“Whatever,” Craig countered. “She’s
just a girl who’s gonna work the Christmas season for me, and then she’ll be
gone. Many have done the same before.”

“Uh huh.” Benny leaned back in his
chair. “But you didn’t want to bone them. What does she look like?”

Craig sat his empty bottle on the edge
of the table and smirked. “A girl.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass.” Benny tossed a
handful of peanuts in his mouth as the waitress returned with their beers. “I’m
just curious.”

“She’s gorgeous.” Craig took a long
swallow. “Long blonde hair, sun kissed skin, and big blue eyes.” He thought of
her then, so prim and proper in her suit.

She was a total contrast to his
laid-back style, but instead of being turned off, he found her completely sexy.
He was intrigued that he could remember every detail of her outfit down to the
nice shot of cleavage he’d been privy to in the low cut blouse. Blue was the
perfect color for her to wear, but he imagined she’d look good in anything she
put on.

“Like I said, you like her.” Benny
looked deep in thought and that made Craig nervous. “What did you say her last
name was?”

“Wilson,” he answered. “Why?”

“Because I think I know who she is.”
Benny laughed. “What I can’t figure out is why an heiress to a furniture
fortune is out begging for a job at O’Hurleys.” Craig raised a brow. “No
offense about the store. I just find it strange that someone like her would
take a job that puts her so out in the open where anyone could recognize her.”