LITMIR.BIZ

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her wealthy parents had disowned her, and Wayne couldn’t find a job. So she’d had to work as a waitress, and they’d fought. A lot. Then he’d been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and in what seemed like the blink of an eye, he’d died. Overwhelmed with grief and confused that death could be so swift and so cruel, she’d gone home, hoping her parents would help her cope. But they wouldn’t even come to the door. Through the maid, they’d reminded her that they had disowned her and didn’t want her and her troubles visiting their doorstep.

      At first she’d been crushed, then she was sad, then she got angry. But that only fueled her determination. Come hell or high water she intended to make it. Big. She didn’t know where or how, but she intended to make it. Not just to show her parents, but so she could be happy again.

      * * *

      “I’d like you to meet my cousin.”

      Ricky Langley glanced up in horror as his lawyer walked up to him with a thirty-something woman. With her hair in a tight black ball on the back of her head and her bright red dress clinging to her curves, she eyed him appreciatively.

      “Janine Barron, this is Ricky Langley.”

      “It’s a pleasure.” Her voice shivered just the tiniest bit, as if she were so thrilled to meet him she couldn’t quite catch her breath.

      Another man might have been pleased—maybe even proud—that his lawyer liked him enough to introduce him to a relative. But since his son had died, he’d been besieged by a loss so intense that thoughts of love, romance or even meeting somebody weren’t anywhere on his radar.

      He said, “It’s nice to meet you,” and managed ten minutes of polite conversation, but when he found an opportunity, he slipped away.

      He wove through conversation groups as he walked across Tucker Engle’s sleek living room. Although Tucker had married six months ago, his New York City penthouse still claimed the sophisticated furnishings of a bachelor pad. Chrome and black leather furniture sat on white shag carpet atop dark hardwood floors. The Christmas tree Tucker had decorated with his new wife, Olivia, glittered with all silver and gold ornaments. The cherrywood mantel over the fireplace boasted one stocking...for Baby Engle. Not yet born, the child hadn’t been named. They wouldn’t tell the sex either. It was all to be a grand surprise.

      He pursed his lips as his breathing stuttered. He thought of the one and only Christmas he’d shared with his son. Blake had been born December twenty-seventh, so he was two days shy of a year on his first Christmas day. He’d clapped when he’d seen the tree lit with brightly colored lights that reflected off the tinsel. He’d eaten Christmas cookies. And he’d gone just a bit bananas when he’d awakened Christmas morning to find tons of gifts all for him. He couldn’t talk, so he squeaked and squealed for joy. He had torn off wrapping paper, liked the boxes better than the actual gifts and in general made a mess of Ricky’s pristine penthouse.

      It had been the best Christmas of Ricky’s life. And now he had nothing.

      He sucked in a breath. He shouldn’t have come to this party. He might be eighteen months into his grief, but some things, like Christmas celebrations, would always level him. Worse, he had twelve more of these events on his calendar. Ten parties, one wedding and one fraternity reunion. Last year, six months into his grief, he could reasonably bow out. This year, people were beginning to worry.

      He turned to race away from the mantle and bumped into somebody’s purse. He swore he heard a crunch as his hands swung around to catch his victim.

      “Damn it! I think you crushed my crackers.”

      The scowl on the blonde’s beautiful face surprised him so much he forgot he was too unhappy to talk with anyone. “You have crackers in your purse?”

      She sighed heavily and tucked a strand of her long yellow hair behind her ear. “Not usually.” She glanced at his tuxedo, gave him a quick once-over, then shook her head. “Never mind. You’re a little too rich to understand.”

      “Oh, you took crackers from the buffet table for lunch next week.” At her horrified look, he inclined his head. “I used to be poor. Did the same thing at parties.”

      “Yeah, well, this was my roommate’s idea. Typically, I’m not the kind of girl who steals.”

      “You’re not stealing. Those crackers were set out for the guests. You’re a guest. Besides, it’s the end of the night. Once we all leave, the leftovers will probably be thrown away. Or given to a homeless shelter.”

      She squeezed her eyes shut in misery. “Great. Now I’m taking crackers out of the mouths of homeless people. I hate this city.”

      He gaped at her. “How can you hate New York?”

      “I don’t hate New York, per se. I just hate that it costs so much to live here.”

      She suddenly straightened. Right before his eyes she changed from a frantic working girl into a princess.

      Her shoulders back, her smile polite and subdued, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, I want to say goodbye to Olivia and Tucker.”

      He stepped out of her way. “Of course.”

      Three things hit him at once. First, she was gorgeous. Her gold dress hugged her high breasts, slim waist and round bottom as if it were made for her. Second, she was refined and polite for someone reduced to taking the extra crackers from a party. Third, she’d barely given him a second look.

      “Ricky!”

      Ricky pivoted and saw his attorney scrambling toward him.

      “I understand your reluctance to get back into the swing of things, but I’m not going to apologize for trying to find you someone. If you don’t soon start dating, people are going to wonder about you.”

      Hadn’t he just thought the same thing himself? “I hope they come up with some good stories.”

      “This isn’t funny. You’re a businessman. People don’t want to sign contracts with unstable men.”

      “Being single doesn’t make me unstable. I can name lots of men who did very well as bachelors.”

      “Yeah, but most of them don’t have a children’s video game line they’re about to release.”

      He turned away. “I’ll take my chances.”

      His attorney caught his arm and stopped him. “You’ll be wrong. Look, do you want support when you take this new company public next year? Then you’d better look alive. Like a guy worth supporting.”

      His attorney stormed off at the same time Cracker Girl walked by, her head twisting from side to side as if she were looking for someone.

      A starburst of pleasure shot through him, surprising him. She was beautiful. Physically perfect. And with a conscience. Although taking crackers from a party didn’t rank up there with grand theft auto, he could see it upset her.

      He laughed and shook his head, but he stopped midmotion. Good grief. She’d made him laugh.

      * * *

      With the party officially winding down, Eloise retrieved her black wool cape, a classic that never went out of style. By the time she reached the elevator, Tucker and Olivia were already there, saying goodbye to guests.

      The plush little car took the couple in front of her away. She smiled at Olivia and caught her hands. “It was a wonderful party.”

      Pregnant and glowing with it, blond-haired, blue-eyed Olivia said, “Thanks.”

      “It was great seeing your parents too. Where did they run off to? I tried to find them to say goodbye but they were gone.”

      “Dad wanted to be in bed early so he and Mom could get up early. We’re all going to Kentucky tomorrow.”

      “Celebrating Christmas from the last Friday in November to January second,” Tucker said with a laugh.

      “You’re

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