One Winter's Night Page 7

  The more he weighed it, the more his conspiracy theory was thinning.

  Which meant Santa was a nutcase and Nick needed to forget about it.

  Determined to brush off the encounter, he continued toward the bar, but the second his feet went into motion he started toward the restrooms instead. Damn if he couldn’t get the stupid curiosity out of his head, and knowing that time was ticking away, he didn’t have the luxury to keep debating his options. Fruitcake or not, Nick had to go see if someone was really there. Maybe it would be no one. Maybe it would be Agnes, the sixty-seven-year-old accounting supervisor who just celebrated her fiftieth wedding anniversary. Or maybe it would be Daryl ready to point a finger and laugh over the fact that Nick might have taken the sales award, but he was still a royal stooge.

  The more the seconds ticked by the more he had to know. He pushed his way through the big double doors, stepped into the quiet of the hallway and made his way down the corridor. When he reached the restroom door, he resisted the urge to barge inside and instead waited. He heard the sound of running water. Someone was in there, and the knowledge had him suddenly feeling ridiculous. What was he doing loitering in front of the women’s bathroom because some quack in a Santa suit said his dream girl was inside? Was it a sign of gullibility or desperation? Both were good indicators that Nick needed professional help for the simple fact that he was actually standing there waiting for the woman to come out. This was dumb. More than dumb. It was insanity. And in a last-ditch effort to prove himself of sound mind, he turned and started to go back to the party.

  Right then, the door clicked open behind him. As he turned back, he caught a glimpse of the woman who Claus claimed was his soul mate. Then he started to laugh. Hard. Not a nervous laugh, or a friendly one, or the giddy chuckles of relief. It was a wild, guttural cackle that bordered on hysteria.

  His first instinct was most definitely correct. This was a practical joke, and whoever came up with it deserved a pat on the back for a job well done. Because if this was a joke, they knew exactly the right woman to place in the bathroom for the best ever punch line.

  Stryker & Associates employed upward of 300 people, and 299 of them would say that Nick Castle was a pretty good guy. He was well liked by everyone—even Daryl, who despite their competitive natures, still considered Nick a friend. There was only one person who, due to a series of unfortunate incidents—twelve fricking months ago—deeply and wholeheartedly hated his guts. That person was his fellow sales agent Allie Madison.

  As he stood there guffawing like an idiot, Allie looked up and frowned. “Had a few too many cocktails tonight, Nick?”

  It only made him laugh harder, but then a thought stopped him cold. “Hey, is anyone else in the women’s restroom?”

  Her frown turned to bland amusement. “What happened? Did your girlfriend ditch you?”

  “Just answer the question, Allie.”

  She glanced back at the door then at him. “You’re right. Whatever’s going on, I probably don’t want to know.” She started down the hall and back toward the party swinging those sexy damnable hips as she went. Flipping her silky blond hair over one shoulder, she said, “It’s empty. The room’s all yours.” Then she tossed him a look that actually brought a flush of embarrassment to his cheeks.

  He opened his mouth to stop her then quickly snapped it shut. What would he say? It’s not how it looks. I’m only here because that guy dressed as Santa told me I’d find my soul mate in the can?

  That would clear things up swimmingly. Then, not only could she rue the ground he walked on, but she could also claim him certifiable, too. So he pressed his lips into a disgruntled line, and did what he should have done in the first place. He went back to the party and tried to forget the whole thing.

  2

  ALLIE MADISON ENTERED the ballroom angry with herself that after all this time she still couldn’t come close to Nick Castle without salivating. What was wrong with her? Was her memory so short and her values so shallow that she could simply erase history for a charming smile and handsome face?

  She crossed to the bar and ordered a vodka cranberry, hoping maybe a drink would wipe Nick’s sinful good looks from her thoughts. It wasn’t right that a man should be graced with such an overwhelming combination of bottomless blue eyes, black tousled hair and sharp sexy features, then have the personality of a spoiled child. It was a cruel form of punishment, one she’d endured for far too long.

  And just now she’d nearly blown it. In the middle of all the celebration and joy she’d nearly forgotten herself when she’d stepped out of the bathroom and caught the sizzle of his gaze meeting hers. Her knee-jerk reaction had been to smile brightly and offer an eager hello. Fortunately, she’d stopped herself in time. As it went, her perky greeting would have only humiliated her when he’d burst out laughing, and it was another reminder that she was doing the right thing by holding on to her animosity.

  Though it would be a lot easier to do if he wasn’t so deadly gorgeous. And funny. And oddly well-liked by seemingly everyone but her. If it weren’t for those minor details, she would still be enjoying the party instead of standing at the bar slugging down vodka and trying to forget he ever existed.

  Her gaze darted to the doorway when she saw Nick step inside, and just like her, his first angle was a direct beeline to the bar. Then his eyes came in contact with hers. Immediately, that luscious mouth of his flattened, giving her a pang of hurt she tried not to acknowledge. Instead, she forced herself to casually turn away, dismissing his presence with a dose of well-practiced disinterest.

  Jeannie Carmichael stepped within earshot, and Allie struck up a conversation to avoid being caught standing alone like a boob with Nick approaching.

  “Hi, Jeannie. Are you enjoying the party?”

  The young woman paused on her way to the buffet. “Sure.” She let out an exasperated breath. “It’s a big job organizing it, though. A lot more work than I’d expected.”

  “That’s right. You’re the one who got stuck with it this year after they laid off Carla.”

  Jeannie nodded then added cheerfully, “As long as everyone’s enjoying themselves, it’s worth it, I guess.”

  Allie gave her a thumbs-up. “That’s the corporate spirit.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nick join a group of men who’d been circled near the other end of the bar for most of the evening. As Nick approached them he said something that caused them all to roar with laughter.

  Grinding her teeth, she turned back to Jeannie and tried to focus as the woman went on about the party arrangements, but then a second roar of laughter tugged her back. As much as Allie tried to concentrate on her coworker, she couldn’t shake Nick’s presence only a few yards away. That low voice of his slid like a caress down her spine, his easy chuckle tingled across her skin, and each time she caught sight of him with his trim waist and tight butt a trickle of warmth settled between her thighs and made her squirm.

  Oh, she had it bad. So many late-night fantasies had starred that man she ought to pay him royalties. But in her dreams he wasn’t just a handsome face and sexy body. The orgasmic version of Nick Castle was also thoughtful and kind. He cared as much about Allie as he did for himself. And most importantly, in her dreams, he actually liked her. He thought she was fun and interesting, smart and capable, and the ache in his heart for her matched her ache for him.

  Totally lame, of course, because she knew none of it was true. But heaven help the fact that she couldn’t connect her body to her brain and stop the confounded lust no matter how hard she tried.

  “Anyway, I guess I’m boring you with all these stupid details,” Jeannie remarked, yanking Allie back to their conversation.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Allie said. “I really am interested in hearing about everything you’ve done.” Though even as she said the words, half an eye crept back to Nick and his friends.

  Had one of them uttered her name?

  Jeannie followed Allie’s gaze. “That’s
okay. Nick has that effect on all the women.”

  That snapped Allie to attention. “No! It’s not Nick. Nick Castle?” Involuntarily, she chuckled in a high-pitched shrilly kind of way. “That’s not it at all. I just thought—I mean, he’s a big nothing, a zero, a…”

  Allie noted that she was grossly overplaying her hand. Quickly, she took a breath and tried to get it back together. “I’m sorry. You were talking and I missed what you’d said. That was rude. Please, go on.”

  Jeannie shrugged and smiled, though her eyes hinted of a disappointment that made Allie feel like a heel. “Don’t worry about it.” Jeannie gestured toward the buffet. “I’ve actually got to tend to a few things, so maybe I’ll catch up with you after a while.” Then she turned and crossed the room.

  Great, Allie. That was really nice. Not only did she succeed in insulting a sweet girl who deserved better, but Allie had also left herself alone once again.

  She scanned the room in search of a place to go and spotted Mike Holden chatting with a man she recognized from IT. Now, there was a guy she should be focusing her attention on. Mike was friendly and considerate, and quite successful in his little corner of Operations. He wasn’t bad to look at and had even asked her on a date once, though she’d turned him down. At the time, she’d just come off her disastrous relationship and had promised herself she’d take a break from men to get her head on straight. Instead, she’d spent the next year lusting over Nick Castle, even after he’d pulled the stunt that proved him completely unworthy.

  Since then, she hadn’t given Mike a second glance, but maybe it was time to start exploring her options. Sure, there were no sparks with Mike, but wasn’t she supposed to start running her love life with her brains instead of those unreliable hormones of hers?

  Yes, she was. And as a Christmas gift to herself she decided to do just that. So with the sexy murmur of Nick’s deep voice still echoing down her spine, she dropped her glass at the bar and set off to see if Mike’s proposal was still on the table after all this time.

  “HEY, HAVE ANY OF YOU talked to that weird Santa Claus working the room?” Nick asked his group of coworkers.

  “What Santa?” asked Dale, a senior accountant in Finance.

  Nick eyed the room intending to point the man out, but the odd Claus was nowhere to be found. “The guy in the red suit handing out candy canes.”

  The men looked at each other. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Myles, an analyst in underwriting.

  Nick studied his friends, getting from their expressions they weren’t pulling his leg. Apparently, none of them had seen him.

  “Then the old man really was a whack-job.” Nick gestured to Jeannie, who was standing at the other end of the bar chatting with Allie. “Jeannie must have had the guy thrown out.”

  “What did he do, try to sell you some magic reindeer dust?” Myles asked, prompting laughs from the group.

  “Even weirder.” Nick told them about his encounter with Claus and the dream girl he was supposed to find in the bathroom. Immediately, the jokes started flying.

  “Damn, I’ve been looking for my soul mate. Maybe I should check the utility closet,” Dale teased.

  “Yeah,” added Cliff. “I’m seeing a new version of that TV dating show. ‘So what’s your choice, Nick, stall number one, stall number two or stall number three?’”

  The men roared, but Nick wasn’t nearly as amused. In retrospect, he should have known better than to share the harebrained story. What was he thinking? Knowing these guys, he’d be hearing about this for years.

  Intent to play it like a good sport, he stood and silently brooded while the comedians came up with more jokes. In some way this had to be Allie’s fault, he thought, as he gazed at the sultry blonde from the corner of his eye. If anyone else had walked out of that bathroom, odds were he’d have dismissed the whole thing without a second thought. But of all people, it had to have been her, the one woman in the entire building who could get him steamed, hot, aroused and furious all with one cutting remark and a flip of that silky blond hair.

  No one had the ability to slither under his skin with such efficiency, and no one used that talent as enthusiastically as Allie Madison. She hated him with a passion, despite his numerous efforts to apologize for the incident that had turned her against him. No matter what he’d tried, she’d labeled him pond scum for life, and for reasons he might never understand, that bugged the hell out of him.

  While his friends continued to clown at his expense, he watched as Allie sauntered off, her perfect heart-shaped ass looking exceptionally festive in that green silk skirt. What a waste of a beautiful body, all those luscious curves and bends. She had eyes the color of dark chocolate, a sexy mole just above her full red lips and smooth satin hair he could practically feel slipping sensually through his fingers. There was so much potential wrapped up in that pretty package, it was a shame to know there was nothing but coal inside. Things could have been so different.

  “You went and looked, didn’t you?”

  Nick blinked back to the group, only now noticing the four men had stopped chatting and were watching him intently, waiting for him to answer the question. “Huh?”

  “The bathroom,” Cliff said. “Ten bucks says you actually walked down the hall to see who was there.”

  “I…” Nick bobbed his jaw, undecided on how to answer, but apparently the look on his face answered for him.

  “Dude, you did!”

  “Who was there?” asked Dale.

  “It was Tracy in Accounting,” Myles guessed.

  “No, my bet’s on Debbie Swanson.”

  Nick fumbled as the men continued to rattle off every available woman in the company. But it was Tom Wilcox, who’d been quiet up to this point, who blurted out with too much intuition in his tone, “It was Allie Madison.”

  Nick’s gaze collided with Tom’s.

  Logically, this would be the point where the real jokes began, the ones Nick could get in on because the idea of Allie as his dream girl was the best one of all. Only no one was laughing. Instead, his band of comics was standing there eyeing each other like someone had just dropped a fly in his soup.

  “Yes, it was Allie,” he said, studying each of them and wondering why the mood had suddenly turned.

  Cliff raised a brow. “So what are you going to do about it?”

  Nick scoffed. “Do? I’m going to write it off as a Christmas fruitcake. That’s what I’m going to do.”

  Cliff slid a glance at Dale.

  “What?” Nick urged. “What happened to the jabs? Where’s the jokes about how ridiculous this is? You know you’ve got them.” He waved his hands in invitation. “Bring them on. I can take it.”

  He waited while the men stood fidgeting like a gang of guilty schoolboys until Tom finally said, “C’mon, Nick. We all know she’s your one major heartbreak. We wouldn’t joke about that.”

  “The one that got away,” Dale chimed in.

  Nick gaped. “You’re kidding, right? Allie, my heartbreak? That’s insane.”

  He began laughing in that same maniacal tone that had erupted back at the bathrooms. Oh, this night was weird and getting weirder by the moment. First the quack-nut Santa, then Allie in the hall, and now this? Something odd was happening to him tonight. So odd that he half expected Rod Serling to step in and introduce him to The Twilight Zone.

  Myles held up his hands. “Hey, if that’s how you want to play it, who are we to argue?”

  “Yeah,” Cliff agreed, and the other two nodded in that patronizing way one might address a temperamental child—or an unstable cousin who was one prescription away from the psych ward.

  “I’m serious,” Nick defended. “I’ve never carried a torch for that woman.”

  Though even he felt a twinge of falsehood in that statement. Okay, so maybe once long ago he’d been hung up on Allie. But that was early on and had been entirely squelched when he got to know her. After the Halpin Technologies fiasco, he’d seen
her dark side and it pretty much iced any heat he might have felt for the woman. Now, he spent most of his energy avoiding her like the plague.

  “I’m serious,” he insisted. “A gallon of spiked eggnog couldn’t prompt my interest in that walking nutcracker.”

  “Okay, Nick. We believe you,” Cliff said in a tone that said he didn’t.

  “Right.”

  For a long awkward minute they all stood and stared until Tom finally cleared his throat and asked, “Anyone got the line on the Bulls game?”

  And that easily, the conversation moved on to sports and holiday plans and everything other than Nick’s love life. But by then it was too late. He was officially bugged, out of holiday spirit and in need of someone to reassure him that everyone hadn’t gone mad.

  The one that got away. What kind of cockamamie notion was that? “Look, I’ll catch up with you guys later,” he said. Then he took off in search of more logical minds. Those guys had chugged down one too many cocktails tonight, was all. Surely, if Nick shared his experience with someone more sober, he’d get the reaction he’d expected.

  He caught up with Jodi, one of the analysts known for having a pulse on just about everything. When he relayed the gist of his evening, she smiled brightly and exclaimed, “I always thought you and Allie would be perfect for each other.”

  That sent him on to Timmy La, a web programmer he’d known for years.

  “I thought you two were already dating,” Tim said.

  He abandoned Tim for Peter Newcome.

  “Crap, I would have hit on her ages ago, but I assumed it would piss you off,” Pete said.

  “Why the hell would I care?”

  Pete shrugged. “Well, you know.”

  No, Nick didn’t, but after tracking down three more opinions, he was getting the picture. It seemed everyone in this place assumed he was either a lover scorned or still pining over the woman he couldn’t have. It was nuts, pure and simple, but apparently the opinion almost everyone shared. And if he had half a brain he’d chalk it all up to either too much alcohol or one big practical joke. But he didn’t have half a brain. What he had was the stubborn will to keep searching until someone in this room provided a voice of reason.