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

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.

“Under this? What better under leather than lace? Merry Widow lace, of course.”

Releasing her elbow, Gage frowned.

What the hell?

She wore the competition?

“I’m a little confused,” she said before he could point out the blatant conflict of interest. “Wouldn’t you know better than I what Cherry likes?”

Why would he?

Gage gave Hailey a hard look.

Before he could ask exactly what her connection to Cherry, and to Rudolph, was, the department-store mogul swanned in with all but bugles blaring a fanfare. The small, bald man apparently made up for his lack of stature by surrounding himself with as big an entourage as possible. Mostly made up of busty women in short skirts, Gage noted. Two carrying briefcases, one with coffee and another with a tray of tiny pastries.

The women paraded in, each setting her item on a wide, glass-topped table, then without a word, doing a snappy about-face and parading right back out.

Leaving Hailey to stare, wide-eyed, Gage frowning and Rudolph posing in the doorway. And Cherry Bella nowhere to be found.

Was that why Hailey was here? To rep her client?

“Darlings, I’m late. So let’s not dawdle. Sit, sit.” Rudolph waved his fingers at Gage, who, after a second’s debate, sat. But opposite Hailey instead of next to her. He had a feeling he was going to get more out of watching her face than whatever the old coot spouted.

“It’ll just be the three of us, I’m afraid.” As if to emphasize his statement, he came over to sit with them, rat-a-tat-tatting his fingers on his knee and frowning. “I know you’re both anxious to hear the decision of who’ll be awarded the contract. I’d intended to give it today, with Cherry’s help. But as she’s ill, we’ll have to reconvene tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Tension spiked Gage’s system. And not the happy, sexual kind he’d been enjoying thanks to Hailey. This meeting was supposed to finish up his commitments to Milano for the year. He had his own clients to see, several projects in the works. He didn’t have time to play babysitter to a leather lingerie line and a kooky, old guy.

“Unfortunately, Cherry felt ill after lunch,” the old guy said, sounding more irritated than sorry. “She apologizes for missing the meeting, but insists on talking with the designers herself and having a say in the decision if she’s to take the role of spokesmodel. I hate to inconvenience you, but we’ll have to meet again tomorrow. Cherry feels the lingerie is the linchpin of her agreement to signing on as the face of Rudolph for next year.”

Gage barely heard a thing after the words talking with the designers. His eyes shifted to Hailey. Her eyes were round, those full lips parted in a silent gasp. Not a gasp of pleasure, either.

Nope. She looked about as horrified as he felt.

“Inconvenient for the two of you, but as much as I’m sure you both want this contract, I’m sure you’ll make adjustments.” With that pronouncement of misperception, Rudy bounced up and scurried over to the tray-topped table. “So are you in the mood for cocoa? And a sweet, of course. What’s Christmas without cookies? Then we’ll take a quick look at the test shots my photographer took of Cherry in each of your designs. Consider it an early gift, since it gives you a chance to refine the pitch you’ll need tomorrow.”

Hailey closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, then shaking her head as if trying to shift the new facts into the old picture. If the pinched expression on her face was any indication, she wasn’t liking the way it looked now.

Gage could relate.

Son of a bitch.

There went his Christmas treat.

5

WELL, THIS DAY had totally sucked.

Sinking deeper into the worn booth, Hailey looked around the retro diner and took a deep breath to keep from crying. Then wrinkled her nose as the acrid scent of burning burger filled the air. On opposite sides of the room, two babies screamed their dissatisfaction with dinner, their cries echoing off the curved glass window in stereo.

Carinos this wasn’t.

Of course, there was nothing to celebrate, either. So a cheap diner was much more fitting than a four-star restaurant.

She wanted that account. She’d worked her ass off for it. She was damned good, her designs were high quality and on trend, yet unique and memorable. Her costs were reasonable, her profit margin solid. She’d put together a fabulous proposal.

She was perfect for Rudolph’s spring line.

Her designs were perfect for Cherry Bella.

Now she was afraid perfect might not be enough. That this time, just like so many others, she’d get within touching distance to getting what she wanted, only to have it swept away.

She glared at the glass on the table in front of her.

Other than being made of melted sand, it in no way resembled the sexy, seductive wineglass she’d thought she’d be sipping from right now while flirting her way through a very promising date.

Nope, this glass was thick, with hot fudge sliding down one side and a puddle of melting, sprinkle-embedded whipped cream pooling on the stem.

She licked a smudge of chocolate off her knuckle, taking comfort from the bittersweet richness.

She was wearing her favorite lingerie under this chic outfit. A sweet, dove-gray demi bra with picot lace and tiny pink satin rosebuds. She’d imagined describing the matching thong and garter belt to Gage over candlelight and appetizers, letting that image set the tone for the rest of their evening.

Her garter belt pressed tight against her overfull tummy, a reminder of just how mistaken she’d been. No pleasant alcohol buzz and sexual zing happening here for her.

Instead, she had an ice-cream gut ache and felt as if she’d been beaten around by a bag full of gloom. Heck, she could give Doris a run for her money for the biggest downer award in this mood.

And it was all Gage Milano’s fault.

As if her thoughts, or an ice-cream-inspired fantasy, had called him up, Gage suddenly appeared right there at her booth.

Sexy as hell, his black hair windswept from the chilly San Francisco weather and tumbling over his forehead in a way that made her fingers itch to tidy it. His eyes were intense, wicked and amused as he arched one brow. And his body. Yes, he was wearing a leather bomber jacket, so she didn’t have full view of those delicious shoulders. But hey, she’d correctly pegged how gorgeous they were when he was draped in green fur. She could imagine them just fine covered in leather.

Leather.

Something he specialized in.

Hailey blinked a few times, sure he was just a sugar mirage. But he didn’t disappear. Instead, he smiled.

Damn him. And he didn’t even have the courtesy to look out of place. Instead, he was perfectly at ease. It was so irritating.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I followed you.”

She shook her head. No, he hadn’t. She’d been here, stuffing her face and getting sick on ice cream, for almost three-quarters of an hour. Her body would have sent up horny signals if he was anywhere near her.

“I’d have been in sooner, but once I saw you were settling here for a bit, I had to make some phone calls.”

Perfectly at ease and acting as if he had no doubt she’d be thrilled to see him, Gage shrugged out of his jacket and slipped into the seat opposite her. She was distracted from feasting her eyes on his shoulders when, with a grimace, he shifted to lift one hip, then slid back toward the seat’s edge. Hailey smirked at the contrast of his sleek looks cozied up in an ice cream and burger booth. She hoped his hundred-dollar slacks had just got stuck in a chocolate smear.

Was that mean of her?

Sure.

But dammit, she’d really been looking forward to their date—and the sex she’d imagined they’d be having soon afterward.

Talk about disappointed.

It was like every Christmas she could remember.

She’d be promised something wonderful, be it that special gift from Santa or her parents not fighting for one blessed day. She’d spend the entire season winding herself up with excitement, hoping and imagining just how amazing it would be.

And, always, it’d been a huge disappointment.

Santa never brought her what she asked for.

Her family never kept their promises.

And her prettily imagined holiday never came true.

She knew it wasn’t really Gage’s fault. He hadn’t known they were in competition for the contract, either. But she couldn’t help but feel that the Grinch had, indeed, stolen her Christmas.

“Why’d you follow me?” For one tiny second she imagined maybe it was to beg her to go out with him still. To tell her how hot he was for her, that a silly thing like business shouldn’t stand between what they’d felt for each other.

“I thought we should talk. Maybe work this out between us.” His smile was pure charm, his look so potent that—despite her vow that he was now off-limits—she was tempted to start undressing right then and there.

“Really?” Her pulse joined the dance and Hailey shifted in her seat, her waistband a little snug from holding her breath—and all that ice cream.

“Really.” He leaned forward and lifted her hand into his. His thumb rubbed along the center of her palm, heating and stirring. “I figure there’s no reason we can’t both have what we want, right?”

Her mouth was too dry for words, so she settled on a nod. He was so damned sexy. His eyes were hypnotic, as if he was trying to pull her in. She didn’t think it’d take much for her to follow just about any suggestion he might offer up.

“I mean, who knows what kind of crazy things Rudolph might want in order to award the contract. Look at how he’s dragged this out already. First he was supposed to announce the lineup on Saturday. Then it was today. Now it may be tomorrow. I know you’re a busy lady, and I definitely have plenty on my schedule. So why don’t we make this easy for him. What do you say?”

“What?”

Her pulse slowed to a thud, matching the feeling of anticipation deflating in her belly.

“How about I make you an offer? Hook you up with some other potential clients, some big names. A half dozen hot leads you could nail down before the weekend. And, probably, before Rudolph would get around to figuring out what he wants.” Gage added a charming smile, as if he were plopping a fat, juicy cherry on top of his delicious proposition.

Delicious, that was, for him. She clenched her teeth against the rude words she wanted to spew, leaving a sick taste in her mouth.

When she didn’t answer, he craned his head forward to check out her ice cream, then lifted a spoon from the place setting on his side and scooped up a bite.

“Not a bad chocolate,” he commented. “I’d have pegged you as a more adventurous ice-cream connoisseur, though. Espresso, some exotic fruit or maybe bourbon flavored.”

“But then, you don’t know me very well, do you?”

Brows arched, he gave a slow nod and set the spoon down. He had a look of smug satisfaction on his face. As if he’d just been proved right about something.

“I know more about you than I did before,” he offered, his smile so full of charm it was dripping in her ice cream. “You’re an up-and-coming force to be reckoned with. Your designs are pure romance, created to make any woman and every woman feel sexy.”