Cinderella's Christmas Affair

He’d created a legacy and he wanted to be able to pass it on to his own kids. But finding the right woman wasn’t easy. He wanted a woman who’d look up to him and need him.

Cathy Jane would have fit that bill, but he wasn’t sure CJ did. She’d changed. He remembered long curly brown hair that he’d always tried to accidentally touch. God, it had been incredibly soft. Her auburn tinted tresses had been tucked up today. Was her hair still that soft, he wondered.

Her eyes had thrown him as well. She’d always had the biggest brown eyes behind her horn-rims. She looked good with blue eyes and if he’d never known her as Cathy Jane he might even prefer the blue. But he had known Cathy Jane. Why had she felt the need to change so much?

A small leather wallet was lying on the end of the table. He’d give it to one of the secretaries on his way out. He picked it up and it opened. Staring up at him from a typical DMV photo was Catherine Jane Terrence.

He skimmed her address. Her condo was only a few blocks from his. All this time they’d practically been neighbors and never run into each other. Tad was honest enough to admit he wouldn’t have recognized her as his old childhood pal without hearing her name.

Whistling under his breath he left the conference room. A pretty brunette receptionist smiled up at him as he approached. He smiled back at her. “Can you direct me to Ms. Terrence’s office?”

She gestured toward the left. Bangles rattled on her wrist. “Down the hall, third door on the left.”

“Thank you.”

He paused outside her doorway. He could hear CJ talking to her secretary. It didn’t sound like CJ was having a great day. Frustration underlined each of her words. He was beginning to think that CJ worked too hard. It wasn’t even lunchtime—way too early to be stressed out.

He rapped on the door frame. Both women looked up. CJ’s secretary was a middle-aged woman with graying black hair and a few wrinkles. Both women wore identical expressions of frustration.

“Can I help you?” CJ asked.

“You left this in the conference room,” Tad said. Oh, yeah he was a smooth talker with the women. Why was it that Cathy Jane made him feel like he was on his first date?

“Oh, thanks. You could have left it up front.”

“Yes, I could have.” This was going to be harder than he thought. Why was CJ so damned determined to keep things all business between them? Probably because, at this point, there was only business between them. Yet when they’d shook hands earlier in the conference room he’d felt something pass between them that had nothing to do with ad campaigns.

“I have a few questions to ask about your presentation, can you spare me five minutes?”

“Sure. Rae-Anne, why don’t you go down the hall and ask Gina to show you around the office?”

Rae-Anne brushed past Tad muttering under her breath about bossy women and—while his Italian had never been good—he thought he heard her curse in that language.

“Your secretary is…different,” he said at last.

“She’s a temp. Today’s her first day and we’re still working out the kinks,” CJ said. She leaned against the desk, fiddling with the clasp on her wallet. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What questions did you have?”

He didn’t have any. He hadn’t had a chance to review her presentation but he hadn’t liked being dismissed. He’d learned a long time ago that the only way to achieve what he wanted was to take charge. He cleared his throat. “Just wanted to clarify a few details. We have an in-house production company for educational videos. We usually use them for our commercials as well.”

“Come into my office. I want to make some notes,” she said, leading him through the connecting door. Her office was a decent size with a large window overlooking Michigan Avenue. Her walls were decorated with awards and plaques of appreciation from companies.

The article Butch had referred to earlier was framed and hanging on the wall. CJ’s picture was cool and confident. She hardly resembled Cathy Jane—the girl he’d known. But even then he’d known she’d go on to do great things. She’d been smart and shy but very focused on getting out of Auburndale.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. When you make your decision, I’ll get a contact name from you and talk to the head of the department.”

“I’ll do that,” he said, leaning back in the leather guest chair. Her office was subtle and relaxing but also spoke of success. He felt a twinge of pride at how far she’d come from the girl she’d been. Despite the way things had ended between them, he’d always thought of her fondly.

“I can’t believe you own a sporting goods store,” she said.

“You’re not the only one. I started college prelaw.”

“You look sporty,” she said, then rolled her eyes.

He didn’t remember her being this funny. But then she’d always been so uncomfortable around him. His friends had teased him about spending so much time with a chubby brainiac. But deep down, he’d always liked Cathy Jane.

“Believe it or not, I am capable of intelligent conversation,” she said.

He smiled. She’d always been one of the smartest people he knew. “You’re the first person to call me sporty.”

“I know you were an athlete in high school. Is that how you got into the business?”

“During college I started to work out more and tried some things I’d always wanted to.”

“Like?”

“Mountain biking, rafting, some rock climbing.”

“Do you still do all that?” she asked.

He nodded. “I was in Moab, Utah last week.”

“You’ve changed so much,” she said.

“So have you, Cathy Jane.”

“I’m CJ, now, Tad. Some days it doesn’t seem I’ve changed all that much,” she said.

“Good. I always liked the girl you were.”

“Is that why you told your friends I paid you to spend time with me?”

Tad hardly remembered the boy he had been until she’d said those words. He’d been more concerned with how he looked to his friends in those days than hurting Cathy Jane’s feelings. Honestly, though he’d never known she’d overheard his remarks.

He was embarrassed by them now. No wonder she’d never talked to him after senior prom. “Hey, I was young and stupid.”

“Yeah, so was I,” she said.

“Does this mean you don’t have a crush on me anymore?” he asked, cursing himself for not keeping quiet. Because a crush was the only thing that had explained her behavior back then.

CJ sank back in her chair unsure what to say next. She knew she should have run when she first had a glimpse of Tad Randolph. But his warm gray-green eyes had convinced her to stay before he’d even recognized their past connection. And she’d never had good instincts when it came to men.

When they’d been in high school she’d idolized Tad. She’d spent hours writing his name in her notebooks and dreaming of them together. But now, as a mature woman she understood things that never would have entered her mind then—like relationships were complex and needed both people to be interested.

Though Tad’s comments had hurt, a part of her had needed to hear what he really thought of her. It had given her the courage to break free from the familiar and start over. College had taught her more lessons and Marcus had finished her education when he’d left.

Tad leaned forward in his chair. Bracing his elbows on his knees and watching her with an intensity that made her breathless. She shivered under the impact. What was he thinking?

“Tad…” She stood and paced to the window. How could she explain to him that maybe she’d needed to hear the truth about herself. That his comments, though hurtful at the time, had made her realize that she needed to be strong inside. She needed to get away from her comfort zone and try the things she’d always secretly dreamed of.

She heard him stand but didn’t turn. Maybe he was leaving. But then she felt his presence behind her. He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

“Sorry I said it that way,” he said. His hand slid down her back lingering at the curve of her waist.

His touch rattled her senses and for a minute she wasn’t sure what he’d said.

She wrinkled her nose, wishing again that Marcia still worked for her. Her old secretary would have interrupted by now and sent Tad on his way. “I hoped it wouldn’t come up.”

“I had no right to ask it,” he said.

“I guess you did. There’s no easy way to say this. I think I’d built you into someone you really weren’t,” she said.

“What kind of guy?” he asked.

“The kind that looked past the outer shell of who I was and saw me as something more,” she said. He’d been someone she could debate the merits of Voltaire versus Molière. He’d been someone who understood that sometimes it was easier to be smart than to socialize. He’d been a safe haven from the other popular boys who teased her endlessly.

He cupped her face and shivers of awareness spread down her body. He had always had that effect on her senses. The first time it had happened in the advanced biology lab she’d nearly freaked out. It still shook her.

“Would it help at all to know that I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth?”

“Yeah, right. You always did have a touch of the blarney in you.” It was nice of Tad to try to reassure her. Her reservations about men had started long before she’d met Tad and continued long after she’d left Auburndale.

He shrugged and let his hand drop. “I only wish I’d had the maturity to make that moment right.”

“Well, you were responsible for my leaving town and making the life I’ve made. So maybe I should thank you.”

“I knew you went to Northwestern. Was it what you expected?” he asked.

“No,” she said. But it had definitely helped her grow up and had cemented her decision to make her career her life.

“You’ll have to tell me about it,” he said. He crossed back to the guest chair.

“Now?” she asked, walking back to her desk. She wasn’t going to tell him a thing about that time in her life or Marcus Fielding.

He shook his head. “I have to get back to work.”

“Of course. You rattled me, Tad.”

“I know,” he said, wriggling his eyebrows. “I have a feeling not many do that, Miss Top Thirty.”

“You’ve got that right. Next time we meet I’m going to be on my toes.” Or at least give the impression she was. She knew herself well enough to know that Tad was always going to knock her a little off balance.

It didn’t seem fair that the one guy who had that ability should be the only thing standing between her and the realization of her career goals.

“I’d rather you weren’t,” he said.

She smoothed her skirt and cocked her head to one side. “That’s what all the men say.”

“Do they?” he asked.

“You know they do. Guys don’t like smart women,” she said, teasing him.

“Only dumb guys don’t like smart women,” he said with a cocky grin.

She’d forgotten what it was like to spar with a man. The men she’d dated lately tended to be as career focused as she was. “You never were dumb. Though, I may have to revise my opinion.”

“Why?” He took a step toward her.

Although she realized she never should have started this, she wouldn’t back down now. “You look like a jock.”

He tucked his hands into his pockets and canted his hips to one side. Her breath caught in her chest. His pose was blatantly masculine and unexpected. He sounded like her childhood friend but there was an aura of sexuality and macho self-confidence the Tad she’d known had never used around her.

“I own a sporting goods company. I am a jock.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” she said, trying to force him back into that comfortable mold he’d previously inhabited in her mind.

He raised one eyebrow at her in question and cocked his head at her.

“I’m trying to think of a way to put this delicately…”

“You don’t have to mince words with me,” he said, taking another step toward her.

She edged back stopping only when her desk blocked her retreat. “I’m just afraid that buff body of yours may have cost you a bit of the gray matter.”

“You think I’m buff, Cathy Jane?”

She blushed as she realized she did. It was never a good idea to fall into lust with your client. She cleared her throat. “Please don’t call me that.”

Taking his hands from his pockets, he ran one finger down the side of her face. “Why not?”

“Because I’m not that girl anymore,” she said.

He leaned closer to her. His minty breath brushing her face with each word he spoke. “You’re so much more than you used to be, Cathy Jane.”

Pivoting on his heel he walked out the door. CJ put her hand over her racing heart and knew she’d just met more than her match. She would have to avoid spending any time alone with him.

Saturday dawned bright and chilly. Tad left his condo and ran along the shore of Lake Michigan. CJ had been ducking his calls all week and frankly he was tired of it. He’d let her have her space but that was all about to end. He was a man of action and winning games was something he’d become accustomed to.

The rhythm of his exercise cleared his mind and soon he was analyzing Cathy Jane. He hadn’t realized she’d heard his comments to Bart all those years ago. He’d never meant for her to be hurt and he’d actually gone on to defend her. But guys like Bart never really understood women.

Tad realized he didn’t understand them either. Kylie had wanted a rich husband and Tad had worked his butt off to make his dreams of a sporting goods store come true. But Kylie hadn’t been satisfied with that. As he worked to build his business, she’d complained that she didn’t want a man who worked all the time.

What kind of a mate would CJ be? She was successful in her own right and wouldn’t need a man’s money to support her. But would she want a man to share her life?

He’d talked to his mom again this morning, casually mentioning that he’d run into Cathy Jane. His mom had asked about CJ and her sister Marnie.

“Nice girls, nice family,” his mom had said, and he knew what she’d meant. The kind of girl she wished he’d marry. He’d hung up without saying anymore to his mom about CJ. But she’d planted a seed in his head.

Would CJ be willing to marry him? They were both nearing thirty and their careers were on track.

He’d got her to agree to dinner but little else. She’d hedged and had her secretary send regrets twice. But Tad was used to hard work.

He ran his usual five miles, but altered his route so that he jogged by CJ’s building on his way home. He’d always had a photographic memory and the image of her address on her driver’s license was etched in his mind. Could he drop by unannounced? He slowed as he approached her building.

Two women were struggling with a Christmas tree. He slowed his pace. He thought it was CJ and an older woman. He still wasn’t used to seeing her with auburn hair. In his mind she had thick ebony hair. She looked cute with her knit cap and matching muffler around her neck. Her companion looked like her secretary.

He slowed to a walk to let his breathing slow and even out and then approached her. All he could make out was her long black wool jacket, legs encased in faded denim and a pair of boots that would have done any one in Auburndale proud.

“Rae-Anne, can you lift your end a little higher?” CJ asked. The two women juggled the tree without much success. The six-foot blue spruce was a nice tree—not unlike the one that he’d ordered for his condo. For someone who’d changed so much, they still had a lot in common.

“Madon’. I’m trying. I’m not as strong as I used to be,” Rae-Anne said.

“Let’s set it down for a second,” CJ said, bending at the waist to set the trunk on the snow-dusted ground. Her coat slid up and Tad was treated to the full curves of her backside. His fingers tingled with the need to reach out and caress her.

Instincts older than time had his hand lifting before he could stop himself. Her buttocks looked firm and full, but he’d learned the hard way that women didn’t appreciate a man reaching out and grabbing something he liked. She straightened, still holding the tree up.

“Can I help?” Tad asked, reaching around CJ to take the trunk of the tree from her.

CJ glanced over her shoulder at him. Her breath brushed across his cheek and he inhaled sharply. The scent that was uniquely CJ assailed him. He was surprised at its familiarity. It reminded him of home and of memories best forgotten.

“What are you doing here?”

“I live up the street,” he said, gesturing to his building. “Let me carry the tree up for you.”

“Thanks, but we’ve got it,” CJ said, brushing his arm aside. He refused to let her budge his arm.

She glared up at him but he knew she wouldn’t make an issue of it in front of her secretary. “We don’t need your help.”

“Merda, I do,” Rae-Anne said. She put her hand over her heart and sighed loudly. “Some of us aren’t as young as we used to be. And I just stopped by to drop off the Monday files. I finally figured out your last secretary’s system.”

CJ bit her lower lip, unsure. He knew her well enough to know that she didn’t like to give ground. He sometimes wondered, if he hadn’t let her beat him in arm wrestling when they’d been twelve, if they’d have even been friends.

Tad took control, grabbing the tree and hefting it with one hand. “I got the tree.”

“Very impressive. Do the girls usually swoon when you do this?”

“You’re my first, CJ,” he said.

“I’m impressed. Are you sure you won’t drop it?”

Always the smart-ass, when they’d been teenagers she’d teased him about his choice of girlfriends. He’d forgotten that there’d always seemed to be two different Cathy Janes. The one at school who kept her head down and her nose in a book and the one at home who sassed him. He wondered what she’d do if he kissed her. Her lips were full and he was tempted more than he should be. His plan for a wife was simple and straightforward—filling a void in his life. “I can handle one tree, CJ.”

“Of course, you can,” Rae-Anne said. “You’re not a middle-aged woman.”

“Kind of you to notice,” Tad said, smiling at the other woman.

“Think nothing of it,” Rae-Anne said. “I believe in giving credit where it’s due.”

“So do I. Machismo isn’t something that requires praise, Rae-Anne,” CJ said.

“Machismo?” he asked. A man had to have a strong ego around CJ. Unlike Kylie who’d always flattered him…until she’d walked out the door with one of his competitors.

CJ tilted her head to the side and studied him. He couldn’t help it. He flexed his abs and stood a little taller. Her gaze moved over him and his blood flowed heavier. He shifted his legs trying to keep her from noticing his stirring erection through the fabric of his sweatpants. “Overabundance of testosterone sound better?”

Oh, yeah, he was going to kiss that smart mouth. To hell with her Christmas tree. “Gallant rescue sounds good to me.”

“You always did have a big head.”

“You always were a bit of a pain.”

“Then why are you here?” she asked.

Because she was the one woman he’d never been able to forget. No matter how many beautiful, intelligent women he’d dated, CJ had always lingered in the back of his mind. “I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“Follow me. I’m on the twelfth floor. We have to use the service elevator,” CJ said.

“I’m yours to command.”

“As if,” she said and climbed the stairs to the building.

Rae-Anne and CJ held the doors open for Tad, and in a short time they were standing in CJ’s apartment.

“Where’s your tree stand?” he asked.

“I can do that. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Really that’s okay.”

“You can’t do it on your own,” he said.

“Rae-Anne is going to help me, right?” she asked.

Rae-Anne had a pile of file folders in her arms and didn’t really look like she’d expected to decorate a tree.

“Do you want me to help?” Rae-Anne asked. “My mother used to say many hands make light work.”

Tad winked at her, sensing he had found an ally in his pursuit of CJ. And he just realized it was a pursuit and nothing less than complete surrender of the saucy redhead would suit him.

Three

CJ had had enough interaction for the day. Saturdays were normally her favorite. She wanted Rae-Anne to go home and Tad to disappear back into the fabric of the past so that she could once again have control of her life. She’d make herself a nice cup of herbal tea and then climb onto the counter and pull down the box of HoHos she had stored above the refrigerator.

They were for emergency use only and after this day she knew she needed the sweet bliss that only consuming a box of chocolate cream-filled cakes could bring.

She’d talked to Rae-Anne last night and they’d discussed Rae-Anne bringing over the Monday files so they could have a head start on the week. But then Rae-Anne had called to say she’d be late and CJ had decided to go and get her Christmas tree. Bad idea. She should have gone into the office instead. Nothing was the same with Rae-Anne as it had been with Marcia.

But Tad was a different matter entirely. The purely masculine look in his eyes told her that he was interested in doing more than renewing old friendships and frankly, that made her nervous.

She was glad that Rae-Anne was here because she didn’t want to be alone with Tad.

Her weary soul said no more guys with buff bodies and yet she’d always been drawn to them. Marcus had been a marathon runner who’d spent hours in the gym. Even her dad had been a high school football coach.

“I’ll make the coffee,” she suddenly blurted.

And for some reason being around Tad seemed to reduce her normally quick tongue to banal small talk. More and more she was slipping back into the old Cathy Jane, joke of Auburndale high school.

“I’ll make it,” Rae-Anne said.

“No offense, Rae-Anne, but you have yet to make a pot of coffee that anyone would drink.”

Rae-Anne threw back her head and laughed. “Madon’, this woman thing is making me crazy.”

“What woman thing?” Tad asked.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Rae-Anne said. Turning to a battered box she pulled out a tangled mess of Christmas lights.

“We’ve got our work cut out, my friend.”

“I think I can handle it.”

CJ left them to sort out the lights telling herself there was nothing wrong with escaping to the kitchen. Not long ago she’d vowed to never let a man make her cower again and here she was hiding out in her kitchen. She boiled water in her teakettle and made coffee in her French press. She had a box of cookies in the cupboard and she arranged them on a Christmas plate from the set her mother had given her the year before she’d died.

There was a part of CJ that really hated the holidays. Marcus had broken up with her on Christmas Eve five years ago and he’d changed something inside her when he left.

She’d hoped to marry him and become his wife. She’d had visions of a shared future where they had their own small ad agency and they worked together. But Marcus had needed something else in a wife. He’d been using her to get a promotion and once he had obtained it, he’d dumped her for the right woman. A corporate wife who’d put her husband first instead of her career.

Her father had run off just after Thanksgiving the year she was eleven with an eighteen-year-old cheerleader. And her mom had been diagnosed with cancer two days after Christmas when CJ was nineteen. So, the holidays always represented not just joy in a season of giving, but also sadness and a sense of loss at what could never be again.

“Rae-Anne sent me to help you.”

CJ made a mental note to talk to Rae-Anne. That woman was entirely too bossy for her own good. “I think I can handle coffee and a plate of cookies.”

Tad stepped into her “step-saver” kitchen and CJ backed up a pace.