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The Night Before Christmas: Naughty Christmas Nights / The Nightshift Before Christmas / 'Twas the Week Before Christmas
The Night Before Christmas: Naughty Christmas Nights / The Nightshift Before Christmas / 'Twas the Week Before Christmas
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The Night Before Christmas: Naughty Christmas Nights / The Nightshift Before Christmas / 'Twas the Week Before Christmas

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What was it with the people in her life? Her mother was always warning that she’d get taken advantage of. Her friends worried that she was wearing rose-colored glasses. Even her father... Hailey bit her lip. Well, her father barely noticed what she was doing. But every once in a while, he did throw out a caution warning of his own. It wasn’t as if she were Pollyanna with no clue. Hailey was a smart, perceptive woman. She’d made it to twenty-six without a major heartbreak, owned her own business and paid her bills on time. And unlike anyone else in her family, she hadn’t had to resort to therapy and/or addictive substances along the way.

“I’m just saying, you might want to look at your alternatives. Me, I can retire anytime. But the rest of the team, don’t they deserve a little heads-up so they can start looking for new jobs? It’s all well and good to keep your hopes up,” Doris said, her tone indicating the exact opposite. “But you can’t let your Mary Sunshine attitude hurt other people, now, can you?”

“Everything is going to be fine. Why don’t you focus on doing your job and let me do mine,” Hailey snapped, her words so loud and insistent that the other woman dropped her cookie and stared.

She closed her eyes against Doris’s shocked look. Hailey never snapped. In a life surrounded by simmering emotional volcanoes, she worked hard to be calm water. Mellow. Soothing, even. She’d grown up watching the devastation negativity and emotional turmoil caused, had spent her childhood trying to repair the damage.

And, of course, on the oh-so-rare occasions that she did respond to stress with a negative reaction, she always got that same horrified, might-as-well-have-kicked-a-puppy-and-cussed-out-a-nun look from people.

“I’m sorry,” Hailey said with a grimace. “I’m just nervous about the meeting this afternoon. I want to make a good impression, to show Mr. Rudolph and his team that I’m the designer they want.”

“You think the perfect scarf is going to make that dirty old man pick you as his lingerie designer?”

“I think the right look will show him my sense of style and savvy use of color and patterns,” Hailey defended, lifting one scarf and then the other against her neckline again. “How a woman feels about her outfit affects her confidence, after all. If I think I look good, I’ll project a strong image. And that might be all I need to get the deal.”

“You might be a little overoptimistic about business stuff, but you’ve always had a firm handle on how well you put together fashion,” Doris said with a frown. “Silly to start worrying about it now.”

“I really want this contract.” Desperately needed it was closer to the truth. But why put that fine a dot on the subject?

“An exclusive with the Rudolph department stores? It’ll be so cool. The rich and famous shop there. They have a store on Rodeo Drive and everything. Can you imagine Gwyneth Paltrow in Sassy Class?” Hailey said in a dreamy tone, thinking of the pristine white satin chemise with delicate crocheted trim.

“Those highfalutin stars are the only ones who can afford to shop at snobby stores like Rudolph’s.” Doris’s sniff made it perfectly clear what she thought of stars, snobs and all of their money.

“Well, unless you really do want to retire early and spend every day at home with your husband, you better cross your fingers that those snobs take to my designs,” Hailey said, finally choosing the red scarf. It was sassier, she decided as she draped it elegantly around her neck. Frustrated, she wrinkled her nose. At least she was trying for elegant. It was hard when she’d knotted wrinkles into the scarf, so it looked like a soggy, deflated balloon around her neck.

Doris rolled her eyes, then hefted herself out from behind the desk to come over and adjust the scarf. A tug of fabric here, a tuck there, then she jerked her chin to indicate that Hailey turn back to the mirror.

While Doris fussed with the scarf, Hailey obsessed.

What if the other woman was right about it being impossible to come up with the funds to pay off the Phillips note?

What if Hailey’s mother was right about Hailey shooting too high, wanting too much?

What if this was it, her last Christmas as the owner and head designer of Merry Widow Lingerie? What if it was the end of her dream?

“Not gonna happen,” she muttered, lifting her chin to emphasize the promise.

“Whazzat?” Doris peered over her bifocals.

“Nothing,” Hailey assured her in a cheery tone. With a smile to match, she patted the older woman’s shoulder and promised, “Everything’s great. Merry Widow is ready to fly, and this account is going to be our launchpad to make it happen.”

The older woman harrumphed, but her usual grumpy look softened a little as she tucked one of Hailey’s curls back into the faux chignon she’d fashioned at the base of her neck.

“Well, I will say this. If anyone deserves to make those dreams come true, you do.” With that, and a stiff smile, Doris clomped back to her tin of cookies.

That was about the nicest thing Doris had ever said to her. It had to be a good omen, right?

Or the kiss of death.

* * *

AN HOUR LATER, Hailey stepped into the glass elevator in the center of the Rudolph Building and pushed the button for the top floor. Top floor, baby. Unable to resist, she watched the surrounding buildings of the Financial District as the elevator rose, sighing when the sun broke through the clouds, and off in the distance she could just make out the Golden Gate Bridge. That had to be some kind of sign. Any day that included a meeting with a powerhouse like Rudolph, a pat on the back from Doris and a date with a sexy guy like Gage couldn’t go wrong. Hailey practically skipped out of the elevator.

Still, she paused outside the frosted-glass double doors. One hand pressed to her stomach to calm her nerves, she took a deep breath. A quick glance at her feet to peek at her Jeffrey Campbells worked as a reminder that everything went better when a girl wore great boots. Then, resisting the urge to fluff her curls into frizz and nibble at her lipstick, she called up her brightest smile and pulled open the door.

This was it.

Her first foray into fashion fabulousness and the beginning of the best day of her life. A prelude, maybe, to the best night of her life.

With that peppy chant playing in her head, she swept into Rudolph Headquarters.

“Hailey, darling.” Jared greeted her as soon as she crossed the foyer. He hurried around the high counter where he’d been chatting with the receptionist to offer a hug.

Hailey shifted, suddenly nervous.

“Hi, Jared. What’s up?” He looked normal enough. Metro chic in his electric-blue suit and skinny tie, his hair slicked to the side and quirky horn rims perched on the bridge of his nose. But he was all tense, as if someone had just told him shoulder pads and moon boots were about to make a comeback.

“Up? Nothing, nothing. C’mon, let me escort you to the meeting. Rudy isn’t in yet, of course. But you can get settled. I’ll fetch you a nice latte, shall I?”

Hailey’s stomach sank. Now she knew something was wrong. Jared didn’t fetch for anybody. She slowed, all but digging the spikes on the heels of her boots into the plush carpet to make Jared slow, too.

“Seriously. If something’s happened...” She swallowed hard, then forced herself to continue. “If I’ve lost the account, I’d rather know before I go in that meeting.”

Quick as a flash, a grimace came and went. Not a small feat considering the amount of Botox injected in that pretty face. “It’s nothing, really. Just, well, Rudy finally got hold of Cherry Bella. She’s interested, but not committed.”

That sounded familiar. Hailey didn’t figure reveling in the turned tables would endear her to Rudy, though. She kept her lips still.

“She’s in tentative agreement, with the caveat that she gets to be the final judge on the various lines for the spring show. She and Rudy are nailing down those details.”

“So how is this any different than it was Saturday night when he announced that it was a competition?” she wondered.

“Well, before we were pretty sure he was going to go with Merry Widow since he had this whole soft spring theme in mind. But Rudy apparently left the party Saturday with Vivo, the shoe designer.”

So? Hailey arched both brows. She wasn’t competing for the shoe contract.

“Vivo is edgy, modern and quirky. Think eight-inch platforms shaped like dinosaurs.”

Eww, tacky. Halfway through her cringe, it hit her why Jared was so upset.

“Rudy’s going to want the line to be a cohesive message....” Her words trailed off as it hit her.

Romantic sensuality didn’t go with eight-inch platform dinosaurs. But snakeskin and black leather did.

And Rudy had a favor-wielding relationship with a designer who thought dinosaurs belonged on women’s feet?

Anger ran, tense and jittery, along Hailey’s spine. Fists clenched at her sides, she ground her teeth to keep from shouting that enough was enough. They kept changing the rules, shifting the playing field. Dammit, she deserved more respect than that. She’d worked hard for this deal, and until that stupid party, all indications were that she’d be awarded the contract.

She didn’t say a word, though.

Yelling never helped anything. If she jumped all over Jared, it’d just make things uncomfortable, and might lose her whatever slim chance she had left.

Big picture, she reminded herself, taking deep breaths to try to push out the irritation. It was all about saving her company.

“I just found out a few minutes ago, or I’d have called to warn you. Cherry and Rudy are meeting with all of the designers together, listening to their pitches.” Jared’s words came at such a rush, they were spilling over themselves. Maybe because they’d reached the wide double doors of the meeting room.

“They’re making the decision now?” she asked. Her fingers clutched her sassy messenger bag filled with marketing ideas and clever pitches aimed at the media. She’d come prepared to pitch the beauty of romantic lingerie that made women feel sexy. If she’d had more time, could she have found a way to work ugly shoes into her presentation? To show that even with the hideous footwear, a woman could still feel attractive?

His hand on the door, Jared closed his eyes for a second, as if he was fighting some inner battle. Then he leaned close and gave Hailey an intense look.

“Focus on Cherry. She’s the key. Rudy will ignore his preferences in favor of whatever she likes, so chat her up. Make friends. She’s on edge about something. Don’t know if that’s her typical personality or if she’s having issues. But she seems to be responding better to soft sells than hard pushes.”

Before Hailey could process all of that, before she could do more than give Jared a grateful smile since she knew he was risking his job by showing preferential treatment, he’d pushed the door open and gestured her inside.

She wanted to grab his hand and drag him in with her.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she took a deep breath of her own, lifted her chin, pulled back her shoulders and plastered on her best soft-sell smile.

Then, with as much enthusiasm as if there were a bed of hissing vipers on the other side, she swept over the threshold.

And almost tripped over her gorgeous boots.

“Hi,” she breathed, the word taking all the air from her lungs.

* * *

GAGE SHIFTED HIS glare from the window to the door, ready to get this damned meeting over with.

And, for one of the few times in his life, found himself speechless. He had to blink a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, then found his voice.

“Hailey?”

Damn, she was pretty.

Her hair, still a froth of blond curls, was tamer than it’d been at the party. Sleeker, as if she’d bribed the curls into behaving by tying them in a knot at the base of her neck. Her big, round eyes were subtly made up, her lips pale and glistening. She was definitely looking more nice than naughty today.

But even without a candy-cane-striped bustier and thigh-grazing ballerina skirt, her sweet curves were mouthwatering. Instead of skimpy holiday wear, today she was decked out in a simple black skirt a few inches short of her knees and another pair of sexy boots. Her scarf and turtleneck screamed class, while her leopard-print tights assured him she was all sass.

He’d never been a foot-fetish kind of guy, but he was starting to seriously wonder what other styles of footwear she had in her closet. And how she’d look riding his body wearing just a pair of boots in thigh-hugging black leather.

“Gage?” Frowning, she chewed on the full pillow of her bottom lip, making him want to offer to take over the task. Then, as if she’d realized something, her eyes cleared and she offered a smile. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

“I’m surprised you recognized me without the green fur,” he said with a teasing smile, walking across the room. He met her wide-eyed look with a wink.

He swept his gaze down her body again, noting the edgy boots and knee socks paired with tights and black leather.

She was a study in contrasts.

“Your suit is a definite step up from that costume,” she agreed. “I’m glad to see you finally got the zipper unstuck.”

She gave him a once-over just as hot as the one he’d given her. Her gaze slowed when passing over his faulty-zipper zone, making him wonder if he’d be having issues with these slacks. The speed at which she inspired an erection was hell on his clothes.

“I didn’t. I had to cut the costume off.”

“Oh.” Her eyes danced with amusement, but she pressed her lips together in an attempt to keep from laughing aloud.

She was so damned cute.

He wanted to lift her off her feet and pull that curvy body against his, to see if it fit as good as he’d spent the weekend imagining. Not for the first time, he cursed his brother, the bet and that damned Grinch costume. If it weren’t for Saturday night’s thick layer of green fur—and a faulty zipper—he’d already know what she felt like.

But this was a formal meeting.

In someone else’s office.

Getting hot and heavy with a business associate was definitely on the stupid list. Especially since Rudolph was likely to walk in at any moment. If he caught Gage and Hailey making out, he’d probably grab a video recorder and put it up on the company’s YouTube channel.

So reluctantly, Gage offered his hand instead. The delicate softness of her palm and her quick intake of breath reminded him that she was about as close to an innocent as he’d been since his teens.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

“I didn’t realize you were going to be a part of the meeting,” she said breathlessly, her hand still nestled in his.

Gage frowned.

Why wouldn’t he be here? This meeting was supposed to be him, Rudy, that singer chick and the competing designer. He’d figured he’d play to Rudy’s good-old-boy persona while pitching circles around the designer. Milano’s leather designs already appealed to Rudy’s misogynistic perverted side. All Gage had to do was play that up, maybe intimidate the other designer a little and snag the contract on his way out the door to meet Hailey for dinner.

A dinner he’d been of two minds about keeping.

Hailey was everything he liked in a woman.

Sexy, fun and sporting a body that’d starred in all his dreams since the party.

And Hailey was everything he avoided in a woman.

Sweet, trusting and sporting an emotional innocence that promised nothing but trouble down the road.

And she was a business associate. Distant, perhaps, but still close enough to this project for it to possibly get messy. If he were smart, he’d offer a clever excuse and get out of their date. He’d keep this business deal simple, and himself out of trouble.

Gage was damned smart.

And here he had a chance to pitch to the singer’s agent, just him alone. Might as well use it. Maybe it’d help keep his mind off stripping Hailey bare of everything but those boots.

“Since Rudolph is late, why don’t we get comfortable? You can fill me in on what you think Cherry Bella likes best. And, of course, tell me what you’re wearing under that skirt.”

So much for keeping his mind off her naked.

Eyes wide, Hailey’s mouth rounded to a surprised O before she let out a gurgle of laughter. As he escorted her to one of the half dozen club chairs by the window, she slanted him a teasing look.