Holidays with the Billionaire

Chapter 3

Adlee

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I don’t know why my parents make me pick out the tree every year. Maybe it’s because they know my tiny apartment can’t fit a full-sized tree and think they’re doing me a favor. And I’ll admit that I kind of enjoy it.

Dad usually goes with me, but he’s in the hospital recovering from heart surgery and Mom rarely leaves his bedside. My sister Alise is on a trip with her boyfriend and soon-to-be fiancé, if his hints have been any indication, so it’s just me. I want my dad to come home to a fully decorated house this year, so it’s up to me get the perfect tree. My parents refuse to get an artificial tree and for some reason my mom likes having to sweep up pine needles.

I park my car and head into the pop-up tree lot down the street.

“Hi, how can I help you?” a young guy who reminds me of Luke asks.

“Show me your fullest six-footer. Maybe seven if it’s pretty enough.”

He grins. “This is only my second day here, but I know just the one!” he says, indicating for me to follow him.

And he’s not wrong, he shows me the prettiest tree on the lot. It’s eighty dollars, but I’ve got my dad’s card and I’m sure he won’t mind. “Let’s do it!” I say enthusiastically.

Even with gloves on, the cold Colorado night air bites at my exposed skin, and my cheeks, I’m sure, are a lovely shade of pomegranate now.

I look up into the sky to see it’s not quite dark, but getting there quickly. I left work at four, went home, changed, and came straight here. It’s almost six p.m. now, and with heavy, bloated clouds above, I could guess that they probably contain snow that’s about to dump, and fuck if I’m driving in that shit.

I pay the kid, who holds a tablet with a card reader, and he carries the tree to my car.

“Shit. I don’t have any twine. Do you guys?” I ask, batting my eyelashes at him and adjusting my pink knit hat.

“Absolutely! Be right back.” He puts the tree on top of my car and I get inside, turning on the engine and blasting the heat.

My family moved here from Texas for my dad’s job fifteen years ago when I was thirteen and I never got used to the cold. I hate it, in fact, and never understood people’s penchant for ice skating, skiing, snowboarding, and the rest of the cold-weather sports. I don’t like the snow and avoid going there on purpose. Still, I stay here in Colorado because where else would I go? Back to Texas? No thanks, too hot. Even if it never snows.

“Got it!” the kid says, holding up a roll of twine.

I roll my window down. “Awesome!”

“Roll your passenger window down,” he instructs, and I obey, hitting the button so the electric window zips down.

He hands me the end of the twine to hold as he loops it over the tree on my roof, then on the other side of my car, hands me the end again, runs around, grabs it from me, and then loops it several times around. Then, he does the same through the back windows.

Once he’s done, I tip him five bucks and zip the windows up as best I can with the twine blocking it at the top, and blast my heater.

Before taking off, I fish in my purse for my phone, checking to see if I have any messages, but can’t find it. I begin to frantically search my purse, dumping its contents out on the passenger seat.

No phone.

“Where is it?” I groan, checking the floorboards and backseat. Then, I realize what happened. I left it in my desk drawer. Dammit!

Begrudgingly, I drive back to downtown. The tree lot and my parents’ house is in a suburb, so this is a damn chore. In reality, I could probably do without the stupid device, I reason, until I realize it’s Friday and there’s no way in hell I’m going without it for the weekend, cursing myself for being so addicted to the damn thing.

“W ell, whatcha doin’ back here so late, Adlee?” Luke asks with glee at the little guard shack as I enter the parking garage.

“Forgot my phone in my desk,” I mutter.

“Got yourself a tree, I see!” he says, pointing to the roof of my Subaru.

“Yep,” I reply with a tight smile.

I wait for the electronic orange bar to go up and drive to the elevators so I can again park illegally and run up and get my phone. I hope the offices are still open. I look at the clock on the dash: 6:21 p.m.

“Crap, I bet nobody’s there, and I can’t text Gabe to see how I can get in.” Now I’m talking to myself.

I pull in, put the car in park, and see Kelton Fox exiting the elevators. He freezes in his tracks, briefcase in his hand and a confused expression on his face. He takes in the tree, my car, then his gaze meets mine. I’m going to have to explain what I’m doing here, but at least he’ll have a key, surely.

I kill the engine and go to open my door, but it won’t budge.

What the...?

I try again, pushing. The car is old but the door has never stuck before.

My gaze travels the length of the door, then up to the roof as I gape at the twine trapping me in through all doors.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groan at my horrible mistake. At that kid at the lot’s mistake. I’m trapped in my car and I don’t carry sharp objects with me.

Looking at Mr. Fox, who is now staring at me in amusement, I want to die. I obviously need help or else crawl out through the window. Yes, that’s what I’ll have to do. How embarrassing is that? I gaze around the garage to see multiple cameras mounted, a few pointed at me. Great, I’m going to be a YouTube comedy sensation by tomorrow.

He walks up to the window and indicates for me to roll it down.

I shake my head and put my face in my hands. My cheeks flame and I want to die at my own stupidity.

Mr. Fox knocks louder. Without any other choice, I sheepishly zip down the window.

“Need some help?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, I’ll, uh, crawl out through the window.”

He sets his briefcase down and removes his keys from his pocket.

“I don’t think a key—”

I gasp when he hits a button on an ordinary-looking key and a knife pops out.

“Move,” he orders, and I wither back away from the window.

“But the tree—”

“Fuck the tree,” he cuts in, sawing the twine away from the doorframe. It slices away clean, and he backs away, flicking the switchblade back into the key. “You should be able to get out now.”

I open the door and get out, humiliated as heck. “Thanks.”

He picks up his briefcase and pierces me with those baby blues before looking at the tree and all the twine. He shakes his head and mutters, “Real smart,” and heads toward his car that probably cost more than my parents’ first house.

“Oh, I didn’t do—”

I’m cut off by the loud beep of his car disarming and I watch as he slides his long, hard body into the driver’s seat and shuts the door, the dark tint blocking me from seeing him.

I look at the Christmas tree, hoping the twine holding it in through the backseat windows will be enough for the drive to my parents’ house.

After I get my cell phone.

Shit!

“Wait!” I call after Mr. Fox, but I’m greeted by red taillights turning the corner of the parking garage.

Still, I lock my car and use the elevator to get to the lobby. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see a security guard who flirts with me manning the desk. He’s older, probably in his 40s, but not my type. I’m nice to him because he has walked me to my car a few times when I was afraid.

“Freddie!” I say, walking up quickly. “Can you let me into the office? I left my dang phone.”

His eyes light up. “Oh, hey there, cutie. Sure can!”

We ride the interior elevator up and he lets me inside. Of course he can’t just leave me in here and has to accompany me all the way to my desk. I leave the lights off and walk quickly, sighing in relief and resisting kissing the device when I see it in my top drawer where I left it.

I close the drawer and when I exit the cubicle, Freddie doesn’t move out of my way. He looks at me with mischief in his brown eyes and I immediately become uncomfortable. “Uh, we can go now. Got it.” I hold it up for effect.

His gaze doesn’t leave mine. Instead, he quickly reaches for the back of my head and presses his lips to mine.

I shriek and try to get him off me. I pull back and gasp, immediately wiping my mouth. “What the hell, Freddie!” I reach a hand up and slap him across his face.

He doesn’t look embarrassed or ashamed, but seems a little angry. He instinctively touches his face. “For fuck’s sake, Addie! I know I didn’t misread your signals. You wanted me to kiss you as much as I wanted to.”

“Absolutely not!” I snap, storming around him and toward the front door of the office with him trailing behind me. “And it’s Adlee, you idiot!”

“Oh, come on, Adlee , don’t be like that,” he says, catching up with me. “Let me walk you to your car.”

I punch the elevator button, fuming at his audacity. Gross. He was so sloppy too, tongue right away, mouth wide open. Gah.

I refuse to speak to him. Instead, I ignore him. The elevator arrives and I step on, and put my hand up. “You take the next one.” I jab the close door button way too many times.

“Don’t be like that... come on, I’m sorry...”

The doors close with us making eye contact.

The nerve!