The Billionaire's Christmas Bundle Of Joy - A Secret Baby Romance, Page 2

  After a deep breath, Mia trudged into the wind and frigid snow, tucking her head into her light, spring jacket. Her gaze focused on her jeep, parked in the back of the parking lot. Snow was already piling up high around the tires. As she moved toward it, she caught sight of James Chance himself. He had swept a scarf around his neck and was attempting to blast the snow back from his rear tires.

  Mia bit her lip, realizing that the CEO’s sports car, a low Porsche, wasn’t exactly equipped for this kind of weather. If she knew anything about cars, she knew he wasn’t getting out of that parking lot. Not today.

  She looked around, sensing that no one else had noticed the CEO. The cameramen were still hustling equipment into the storage room, and Jeff was surely going through the tapes from the day, taking notes, trying to crawl out of the hole James had dropped his ego into. She tapped her unlock button and hopped into the jeep, rubbing her fingers together to bring feeling back to them. Do the right thing, her brain whispered.

  The jeep crept easily from the snow-filled parking spot, creating thick lines through the fluff on the ground. She felt her shoulders quaking. Was it fear, or just the chill?

  She drove slowly toward James, who was wiping a small snowdrift from his front window. His lips were turning blue. Begrudgingly, Mia rolled down her window, her elbow flopping up and down, and called out to him.

  “Hey, James. Do you need help?”

  He looked up at her earnestly. Mia knew he was unaccustomed to being out of his element; usually, he was always the surest one in the meeting, in his relationships, in his life. She couldn’t imagine that he’d ever lost his footing on his path to greatness.

  “This weather is really killing me, here. I think I’m going to miss my flight.” His voice was loud, panicked.

  “Not if I drive you,” Mia said, giving him that cheerful, presenter smile. “Get in. I can have the guys take care of the Porsche tomorrow, if it’s going to worry you.”

  James nodded gratefully as he swept his fingers through his wet hair, taking long strides toward the passenger side. He shuddered as he closed the door, blowing on his fingers. “Oh man. Do you mind if we turn up the heat? I spend so many winters down south, I’m not used to this anymore. Pretty funny. I used to spend so much time in this stuff.”

  Mia curved the temperature gage a bit higher, giving him a quizzical look. Was he trying to tell her a story of himself? “You going to be okay?”

  “If you can get me to the airport within the hour, I should be fine. They’ll hold the plane for me, but only for so long. You think when you’re a billionaire, everything will be oriented to your needs. But no…”

  “All right,” Mia said, choosing not to respond to his entitled talk. She geared the jeep out toward the road, where cars were drizzling slowly toward their destinations, bogged down by the snow’s constant stream.

  Her mind raced as James sat in silence, clearly focused on his upcoming meetings. For her part, she couldn’t stop thinking of their previous conversation about Christmas. About the attempts of a lonely old man to generate holiday cheer all through the year. What was so criminal, so loony about that?

  Mia felt her arms spin the car into a slight detour, then. She was up to something. To distract him, she searched her brain for any relevant questions she could find. “Do you find yourself in Chicago often?”

  “Sure. I’m there every few weeks, more or less. I’m thinking about getting a more permanent place, something that will allow me to feel at home there. I’d say I’m there even more than I’m in New York. The station there is doing really well.”

  “Huh. Do you ever miss Portland? You grew up here, didn’t you?” Mia’s eyes danced, searching the road ahead. She knew she was closing in on Christopher Parsons’ Christmas grotto, but James didn’t suspect a thing.

  “No, actually. I didn’t make it out here till I was 22, after college. Still, after spending so much time here, the streets are incredibly familiar to me. Which is why I know exactly where we’re going, Miss Daniels.” He spun his head toward her, giving her a devilish smile. “Clever girl.”

  Mia halted the jeep just in time, at the sidewalk beside Christopher Parsons’ petite home. She blushed, shrugging her thin shoulders. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  With the snow swirling around them snow-globe style, the pair of them stared up at the Christmas decorations.

  Mia sighed inwardly, taking them in, allowing her thoughts to dance toward the comfort and joy of Christmas. Christmas bulbs, all the colors of the rainbow, danced across the edges of the house. Plastic reindeer stood in various formations, one with its head down, as if eating, another looking out across the night sky. A wreath, clearly updated since Christmas, for it was still alive and bright green, hung on the front door. Mia’s heart ached at the care the owner so clearly took with each element of the design.

  “I’ve never seen anything tackier,” James said flatly.

  Mia felt like grabbing him by his broad shoulders and shaking him. “Don’t you see, James? These Christmas lights are supposed to ignite warmth and happiness inside of you. The man in there truly cares about the joys of Christmas: of loved ones coming together, of fires crackling. His house embodies everything I craved as a child. It gives me hope.”

  “That’s rather sentimental of you, Mia,” James scoffed. “You’re an academic; you should know that the only thing Christmas is good for is generating sentimental stories on slow news days.” He snapped his eyes toward her, sensing that he’d overstepped. “You realize this. Don’t you?”

  Mia bowed her head. In her mind’s eye, she could still see the Christmas tree they’d erected in the children’s home. She’d sat before it, weeping softly at the blinking lights. It had been the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Had James ever experienced beauty? Had he ever cried at such a simple thing?

  Why was she allowing this to irritate her so much, anyway?

  “I’m sorry, Mia,” James said, his voice curt. “I just can’t buy into this Christmas cheer baloney. I wish I could. It seems to be something that means a great deal to you.” He shrugged his shoulders, blasé. “Maybe someday I’ll experience it, too. When I’m a very, very old man. Like Christopher Parsons.” He winked at her, clearly trying to release the tension.

  Mia sighed and spun the key once more, starting the engine. “I guess we better get you to the airport,” she sighed. She took a deep breath and maneuvered her jeep back onto the road.

  “I’m sorry,” James said. The words nearly seemed genuine.

  “Please, don’t apologize. It’s a silly thing. It just means a lot to me. Probably too much.” She flashed him a tentative smile, all the while realizing that she wasn’t doing herself any favors. If she wanted to get away from the fluffy, tired stories at the news station—like cat fashion shows, for example—she needed to show that she was logical and determined in the eyes of the CEO. But Christmas meant too much to her. It was her crutch.

  The jeep wound toward the airport, and the couple sat in silence. James checked his phone constantly, swiping his thumb across the screen.

  Mia’s heart palpitated with frustration. She turned her attention toward her future: when she could tuck herself into her couch, turn on It’s A Wonderful Life, and pretend this conversation with her boss had never happened.

  Finally, the airport was in sight. She headed through the circle drive for departures, watching as friends and relatives wrapped themselves into goodbye hugs beneath the rushing snow. She halted the jeep and turned toward James. She felt hardened, angry.

  James spoke first. “Thank you so much for your help today, Mia. Seriously. I can’t imagine that my car would have taken me all the way here. I never would have made my flight on time.” He stretched his arm toward her and put his hand on her shoulder, the intimacy of the movement startling her. “I hope I’ll see you next time I’m back in Portland.”

  “I’m always around,” she affirmed. Her voice was soft. She sensed genuine gratitude in his words.
“Grab your bags. You’re going to make it!”

  He gave her a last-minute smile before darting out into the snow, nabbing his bags, and running into the terminal. Mia watched him go with sad eyes. She was alone once more in her jeep, and she allowed herself to sigh. Their conversation had exhausted her.

  Mia paused to look around her, at the snow that continued to rush, headlong, onto the jeep’s front window. She imagined it was nearly Christmas. She imagined she was baking cookies, searching for gifts for friends, peering into decorated shop windows. The thought made her less anxious. It made her feel free.

  “All right,” she whispered to herself. “Time to go.”

  She cranked the key in the ignition and moved to change the car’s gear to drive. But as she transitioned, out of nowhere, there came a mad pounding at her passenger window. She spun her head to find James standing next to the jeep, his mouth moving urgently. What in the world?

  After she unlocked the door, James swept back into the passenger side. He was peppered with snowfall. His hair was dripping. “I’m so glad I caught you,” he breathed.

  “What’s going on?” Mia asked.

  “My flight was canceled. Bet you can’t guess why.”

  Mia laughed. “I suppose we should have expected that.”

  But James smacked his hand on his leg, clearly agitated. “Ugh. I haven’t missed a meeting in years. My perfect record. Broken.”

  “I’m sure they’ll understand,” Mia teased, trying to lighten his distress.

  A pause grew between them, and Mia became nervous, hopeful he would say something first. The jeep continued to purr. Around them, cars came and went, struggling through the snow.

  “Would you mind giving me a ride?” James asked, his grin wicked.

  Sensing her nighttime plans slipping out from under her, Mia agreed with a simple nod. She pulled away from the departure drop-off and directed the jeep back toward the SNO News studio, unsure of where else to go. She was about to be snowed in with the only person in the world who didn’t truly appreciate Christmas. And she had to be nice to him, because he was her boss.

  THREE

  Mia parked in the executive lot, near the door, since it was clear that nearly everyone else had gone for the day. A few other cars were peppered alongside James’ Porsche, all of them loaded with snow.

  She shrugged toward James, who was clearly distracted. “You want to go see if anyone else is still here?”

  James nodded. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. I could get a bit of extra work in before Chicago.” He seemed to brighten at the idea, bucking out from the Jeep and taking his workbag in with him.

  Mia followed him indoors, wrapping her light jacket tightly around her as she trudged through the snow. She eyed him from behind; he wore no winter coat, and despite the snow, his business suit was still pristine. It highlighted the strength of his body, the shape of his shoulders.

  He held the door for her, and Mia skirted inside, giving him a half-moon smile. Their snowy feet clattered up the steps as they marched side-by-side, tossing slush.

  “I can’t believe this snow,” James began then, muttering. “I hate everything about it. It’s the most pointless thing in the world. I can’t tell you how often it’s impacted my work. Especially in Chicago and other parts of the Midwest. For some reason, I thought I could trust Portland. I never thought my Portland would let me down.” He shook his head.

  “Maybe the snow is telling you you’re working too hard,” Mia offered, her voice playful. “Maybe it’s telling you to slow down and stay awhile. When was the last time you took even a single day off?”

  James looked at her brightly, responding to her playfulness. “It’s been years, to be honest.”

  “I knew it,” she grinned.

  They walked through the empty offices, chatting quietly, almost afraid they would be found. The air around them had grown excited. Mia felt as if they were children, trespassing.

  “Do you think anyone’s still around?” she whispered, her eyes tilting toward his.

  “I’m not sure,” he whispered back. “And I’m not sure why I feel I need to be so quiet in my own building.”

  “That’s right!” Mia said, snapping her fingers. “This is yours. We can do whatever we want.”

  “Well, I can,” he affirmed, smiling brightly. “You have to stay in line, miss.”

  “Whatever you say, boss,” Mia said, laughing beneath a scrunched hand. “Whatever you say.”

  She couldn’t understand how the mood between them had changed so swiftly, but there was a certain heat between them when they spoke, now; almost as if they were flirting, but not quite.

  They reached the main newsroom, where the programming had been switched to pre-recorded scheduling. Each chair sat empty in the half-darkness. It looked haunting.

  “They probably went home before the storm got too bad,” James said, his hands outstretched. “Which is maybe what you should do, Mia.” He glanced toward her, his expression one of concern. “Seriously. If we’re trapped here, there’s no way to know how long we’ll have to remain. You should head home. Get cozy. Do your Christmas cheer thing, or whatever you do when you’re by yourself.” He winked at her, and Mia rolled her eyes.

  Just then, his pocket began vibrating. He snuck a finger up, telling her he’d be just a moment, that it was Chicago, before grabbing his phone. “This is James,” he said, his voice serious. His entire aura changed before her. The near-goofy person she’d just been teasing was suddenly gone.

  Mia toyed with the idea of going home. She could feel the comfort of it calling to her. But something about the madness of the previous few hours tempted her to stay put, to see where the night took her. It was that journalistic curiosity that so often got her into scrapes. She listened attentively to James, who was explaining to the Chicago executives that his plane had been canceled, before she felt the surge of excitement fuel through her. She knew exactly what she wanted to do.

  Mia rushed from her post in the newsroom, out to the storage cupboards. She knew where the boxes were, shoved behind the ping pong paddles and basketballs the boys had hoped to use during the disappointing spring. She swept her arms toward the first cardboard box and hugged it deeply, like an old friend. She could already hear tiny bells jingling as she held it.

  As James paced around the newsroom, his voice rising and falling as he and the Chicago executives discussed a new meeting time, Mia raced into his office, which so often sat empty, awaiting his arrival from whichever news station across the country. Knowing she had mere minutes to enact her plan, she reached for a set of lights and hurriedly strung them across the ceiling, taping them into place.

  She slipped the prongs into the electrical socket, igniting the lights. Then, she hung red bows upon the lamps, stuck a plastic poinsettia on the desk, and began tossing tinsel around almost at random. Within moments, the place was bursting with Christmas spirit.

  Just the act of creating this space manifested such pleasure in Mia’s mind and heart. Her fingers were harried; her inhales were bursting. But, in the final moments, when she realized she was done, she plastered herself to the wall and waited, allowing the beginnings of Christmas cheer to flow through her. All around her, the office resembled a real Christmas grotto. She’d gone above and beyond.

  Her mind drifted back toward James. Would he appreciate the joke? Their conversation had been sizzling with charm just moments before, but perhaps she’d overstepped. But after listening to his rants about Christmas all day, she couldn’t resist pulling this prank. It was in her nature to tease, and if they were going to be friends, then he had to accept this side of her. She sensed that their gently teasing banter was leading them on a kind of path, as well. But she didn’t want to consider where it would take them.

  Mia stood in wait, noting that the time seemed to trickle slowly. How long would he be on the phone for? And would he even search for her after hanging up? Perhaps he would assume that she’d gone home without saying good
bye, and she’d stay in his gaudy holiday office until morning when someone discovered her, wide-eyed and ready to reveal her joke.

  “This is how people find themselves with labels like ‘loony,’” she whispered to herself. She shook her head, pulling the Santa hat tighter to her skull. Abstractly, she wondered if she looked cute in her thin-cut blazer and Santa cap. Surely she could be some kind of Christmas fantasy, in another world in which she wanted to seduce her boss. Ha. She needed to stop entertaining that thought.

  After all, while James Chance was incredibly, frustratingly attractive, there was a reason Mia resisted fantasizing about the billionaire CEO: he was gruff, arrogant, and sarcastic to his employees. She remembered how Theresa had complained about him, whipping that powder brush back and forth, emphasizing her point.

  And beyond that, there was the wider issue of what it meant to flirt with her boss. The journalism world was rough enough for a woman. She didn’t want to collapse her career, her reputation, for the likes of this man, no matter how attractive he was.