Deck the Halls Page 2

  “The living arrangements are only temporary. Or they’re supposed to be.” He laughed lightly. “I’m the new partner at Swinehart, Cathardy and Steele. I came down from Boston a couple of months ago and haven’t had time to find a place of my own yet.” Adam was about to add more when Holly’s rigid posture and frozen face stopped him.

  Her eyes, a deep brown, were opened wide, and she didn’t bother to hide the dislike flooding them. “So you’re one of the stealing swine?” Each word was an icicle.

  Adam didn’t laugh. “An odd way to refer to the name of the firm that hired you.”

  “A rather appropriate name, I’ve always thought.”

  “You’ve dealt with us before.” It was more of a statement than a question.

  He was treading very carefully. Just like a lawyer, Holly thought scornfully. She went back to strangling bears and didn’t speak immediately, feeling a sharp disappointment. She’d been betrayed by blue eyes and a pair of dimples. “This is the first time . . . professionally.” There was bitterness in her voice and she knew Adam could hear it.

  She’d nearly choked when the law firm hired Deck the Halls, but she was a professional, and successful professionals didn’t let emotions interfere with sound business decisions. Wasn’t that what Mr. Steele told her when he’d refused to represent her case several lean Christmases ago?

  Holly finished the last bear, tossed it at the others and watched as it bounced and tumbled down the mound. “A partner, no less,” she said, looking at him directly.

  “Yes.” Adam nodded, his eyes assessing.

  Holly hated it when lawyers did that, closed off their faces and gave nothing away, all the while conveying the impression they were privy to the secrets of the world. “I thought you might be a client. Or maybe a specialist here to testify.”

  “I’m not a trial lawyer,” Adam offered, trying to ease the tension. “I’m a bankruptcy lawyer. “

  Holly’s face whitened briefly and she turned away, gazing out at the skyline. “Lots of bankruptcy cases in Texas now.”

  Adam sat with his arms looped around his knees. “Not as many as there were.”

  Holly’s eyes swiveled back to him. She owed him an explanation. It was just such a shock to learn he was one of them. “I haven’t had very good experiences with lawyers.”

  Adam studied her. “Nasty divorce?” he asked in an impersonal tone. “Or was your husband the lawyer?”

  “I’ve never been married.” She said it without apology, but her staccato tones warned him not to pry.

  Adam felt inwardly cheered at finding out that she was single. So, she hated lawyers. From the tight look of her lips, it was going to take an abundance of charm to melt away the icicles.

  With that thought in mind, he strolled over to the fireplace and lit the log he found there. It was one of those fake ones, the kind that didn’t burn very long. He stayed by the fireplace longer than necessary, since the log caught fire so efficiently, and considered how to approach Holly. He wanted to get to know her. She had a direct quality that attracted him and her brown eyes had assessed him without coyness. He liked women who didn’t play games.

  She was the first woman he’d met who wasn’t a fellow lawyer since he’d come to Dallas. He knew Holly hadn’t been indifferent to him. Adam sighed, not caring whether or not she heard him, and poked at the log, which didn’t need it. As he slowly replaced the poker, his fingers traced the elegant engraving on the pewter fireplace tool rack: S.C.S.—the Swinehart, Cathardy and Steele logo with its flowing script. The log shifted and the fire popped. It was a loud silence.

  Stop being such an ass, Holly. Now that she’d created the uncomfortable silence, it was up to her to break it. She knew all lawyers weren’t like the rich, parasitic vultures who had fought over the remains of her father’s estate for the past four and a half years. And so far, Adam hadn’t exhibited that cocky I’ve-got-you-right-where-I-want-you attitude, either. He’d even been helping her—without charge. That alone put him in a different category.

  Gathering an armful of silver bows and garlands, she approached him. “My parents always put colored sprinkles on our fires.” She gave him a tentative smile and was rewarded with a breathtaking one in response.

  “So did mine,” he said, his voice rich, velvety.

  “A fire in the fireplace made it a special day.” With difficulty, Holly dragged her eyes away from his and watched the dancing flames. Why was it so difficult to think all of a sudden?

  Adam laughed. “Yes, it does take the chill off the air-conditioning.”

  Holly joined him in his laughter, her brown eyes reflecting the warmth of the fire, her brown curls glinting with copper lights from its flames.

  “That’s better. You have a nice laugh.” Adam closed his eyes and inhaled. “You even smell like Christmas.”

  Holly grinned at him, revealing faint dimples of her own. “It’s frankincense. It helps me get in the holiday mood.” She indicated her armful of silver. “Want to help decorate a tree?”

  “I’d like that,” Adam said quietly. “I’ll miss out on all that in Boston. Won’t get home in time.”

  They stood in front of the tree and Holly handed Adam a bow triple the size of the rest. “This one goes on the very top.”

  Adam climbed the stepladder, leaning over as far as he could. “Is it straight? I can’t tell from here.”

  “Yes, but be careful,” Holly warned. “The tree is so full, I’ve been wondering how I was going to get the bow up there.”

  Adam finished securing the bow and gingerly straightened. “I assumed you’d have a giant bear sitting on the top.”

  Holly busily fed him more bows. “A Deck the Halls tree is always topped with a bow. We do make exceptions for angels, but then we have tiny bows surrounding them and ribbons hanging from those. But every other theme has a bow. I had a great one for the brown bears. It’s just a simple bow with bears sliding down the streamers. Move that one over a bit.”

  “How’s this?”

  “Great!”

  Adam looked down into her pleased face and caught his breath.

  Holly was chatting merrily away, apparently putting her earlier animosity aside. “This is really going to work. I had my doubts and we don’t usually go overboard on the bows, but I just couldn’t leave brown bears on the tree, could I?” Holly looked to Adam for confirmation and flashed a quick smile.

  “No.” He loved hearing her voice. A pitch or two lower and it might be called a whiskey voice. It wasn’t as rough as that, though. More bourbon-cured.

  Her movements were quick and precise, without wasted motion, as she flitted from one side of the tree to the other, anchoring bows. “Here.” She pulled on one of his arms and draped long ribbons over it. “We’re almost ready for the bears.”

  “Fine.” He hopped down from the stepladder. “Have you eaten?” he asked suddenly.

  “Mmm.”

  “Is that a yes or a no?”

  “It’s an I-had-a-late-lunch-and-I’m-too-busy-and-not- hungry-enough-to-stop.”

  “I suppose that’s a good thing since I don’t think there’s any food in the kitchen.”

  Holly shot him an unreadable look. “Typical lawyer behavior.”

  “Hey,” Adam protested. “There are all sorts of people who make a living delivering food to mean old lawyers.”

  “You don’t get out much?”

  “No. I flew to Boston for Thanksgiving last week. Other than that, you’re the first person I’ve met outside of the office.”

  “Business must be good.” Holly’s voice was muffled as she bent over the mound of bears. “Here, take these for me.”

  Adam took an armful of bears from her.

  “Start hanging those on the back of the tree by the window.”

  Someth
ing flared in Adam’s eyes. “Please,” Holly added belatedly. “You have to watch me or I’ll start treating you like one of my sisters.”

  Adam raised a black brow. “Not for long, you won’t.”

  Holly watched him negotiate his way behind the tree, turning before he caught her at it.

  “What do you think?” she asked a surprisingly short time later, her animated face filled with satisfaction as she checked the tree.

  “It’s . . . cute.” Adam’s half smile neatly displayed an engaging dimple. “Cute but simple. I like simple, but I thought you wanted extraordinary.”

  Holly sighed. “I do and you’re right.” She stared at the tree. “I’m not used to changing themes like this. I like to plan in advance.” She was silent for a moment, going over her inventory in her mind. “I’ve got some white-and-silver-glittered snowflakes, and maybe some clear ones. If I had more time . . .” She looked at him. “I hate to impose—”

  “It’s no imposition,” Adam assured her hastily.

  “I was supposed to be finished by now. On the other hand, if I had a chance, I could get to a fabric store tomorrow morning. Silver lamé would make a great tree skirt. I could settle for white batting in a pinch . . .”

  “But you don’t want to settle when you could be outstanding.”

  Holly nodded. “If I could keep the key for another day . . .”

  “Sure.” Adam gestured negligently. “Come any time.”

  “Thanks.” Holly ignored the extra invitation she heard in his voice. “May I use the phone?”

  “Help yourself.”

  Holly was already reaching for the telephone when she jerked her hand back. “No, I’m not going to call them.” She backed away from the phone, clasping her hands together. “My sisters,” she explained to Adam. “They’re doing another tree and it’s the first time I’ve let them handle a job on their own. I can’t call them, or they’ll think I don’t trust them.”

  Adam slowly packed the boxes. “How about a toast to a job well done?”

  “It’s late . . .”

  “But not as late as it would have been if you’d done this all by yourself.” Adam smiled persuasively and headed toward the liquor cabinet. “This is bound to be well-stocked. Yes,” he confirmed, “it is. Now, what would you like? White wine, sherry, scotch . . . bourbon?”

  Holly didn’t hear him. She had pushed the sleeves of her sweater above her elbows and stuck her hands in the back of her jeans, still studying her Christmas tree.

  The room darkened just as Adam reached for a rich old sherry he thought matched Holly’s eyes. He made his way toward her, avoiding the nearly invisible black Steinway piano, guided only by the flicker of the fire and the twinkle of tiny white Christmas-tree lights.

  Holly sat on the floor, leaning against the couch. “Wishing for a bearskin rug?” Adam asked as he placed the bottle and glasses on the coffee table and sat next to her.

  “Oh, Adam! Yes! Do you know where I can get one? I’ve got an idea, but it’s a long shot.” In her excitement, Holly grabbed his arm, preventing him from pouring their sherry. “Just think—the perfect touch!”

  “No, I—”

  “The Town Square people will love it. Maybe they’ll even use my tree for the cover.” Holly hugged her knees to her chest.

  Adam felt the potential mood slipping away. “Sherry?”

  “Mmm.” Holly was still dreaming of magazine covers. “It’s good. Exactly right.”

  Adam shifted closer. “It matches your—”

  The jangling of the telephone made them both jump. Adam was already off balance and managed to slosh a few drops of sherry onto his jeans. He looked around for something to dab it up, ignoring the phone.

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

  “Why? The only calls on this phone are wrong numbers.” Adam headed for the kitchen and a paper towel. “Calls for me come on the private phone line in the bedroom. But go ahead and answer if it bothers you.”

  “Penthouse,” Holly said, wondering if she should add the law firm’s lengthy name.

  “Holly! There’s been a terrible mistake. We’re ruined.”

  “Laurel, calm down. Are you all right? Is Ivy?” Hearing the agitated voice of her normally placid younger sister upset Holly more than she would have expected. She was only vaguely aware that Adam had returned.

  “No one’s hurt—yet. But the sorority is furious. They said I switched decorations on purpose. I’ve never been so humiliated.”

  Holly took a deep breath. “What happened?” she asked with a sense of foreboding.

  “The Alumnae Christmas Coffee is tomorrow and they said they picked the teddy-bear theme—you know bears are our mascot.”

  “And you’ve done a lovely art deco tree for them.” Holly stared at the white bears—and the brown ones—in dismay.

  “How did you know?”

  “I’ve got the bears.”

  “Holly, you can’t,” Laurel wailed. “Listen, some of my friends are here. They brought food by for the coffee. It’s bad enough that they see me working, but they’re being so nasty about everything. The deco tree is classy.”

  “But it wasn’t what they chose. Is Ivy there with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Get her to help you strip the tree. I’m on my way with the teddy bears.”

  As Holly hung up the phone, she could feel a heavy fatigue settling around her. Her shoulders slumped and she frowned in disappointment. She had counted on them, really counted on them.

  “That was my sister.” Holly gestured to the phone as she turned to face Adam. He stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “It appears the design orders were switched. She has the art deco tree your firm must have ordered.” Holly wearily rubbed her temple. “All that work—”

  “Leave it,” Adam ordered. “You’re done in. I say the tree is wonderful. It stays as it is.”

  Holly hesitated, wanting to believe him.

  “I heard you tell your sister you were bringing her these other bears. Let’s get moving.” Adam began loading boxes onto the dolly.

  “Thanks for your help.” Holly secured the boxes with cords. “I’ll try not to wake you when I get back here tomorrow morning to do the tree skirt.”

  “I’m coming with you now.”

  “Adam . . .” It was tempting, really tempting.

  “It’ll be fun for me and you’re too tired to enjoy anything right now.” Adam lifted a hand to the base of her neck and kneaded it briefly. Then he swung her gently around and pressed the elevator button.

  “No. I’ll be fine.” Holly shrugged off his hand and wheeled the dolly into the private elevator, realizing she sounded curt. She was tired and she was honestly sorry her younger sisters had botched the orders.

  She turned—and saw Adam’s expression. A frown had etched faint lines of concern around his mouth. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said to soften her refusal.

  “Okay.” Adam’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  She had to face him until the padded doors whispered shut. She felt horrible. What was the matter with her? He had no business coming along. He was a client.

  Her fingers hovered over the buttons, then pressed one. The doors opened. “Get in,” she said, relenting, “if you still want to come.”

  Adam did, and he entered the elevator with a blinding smile that temporarily banished all her misgivings.

  “You won’t regret it, ma’am. I’m an experienced tree decorator.”

  Holly laughed, feeling lighter and, well, merrier.

  “Wait!” Adam stopped her from releasing the button and stuck his head outside the elevator. He gazed at the ceiling, then nodded.

  “What are you doing?” Holly asked as the doors slid shut.

>   Unblinking, he regarded her lips and smiled slowly. “Measuring for mistletoe.”

  Chapter Two

  HOLLY MANEUVERED her dark green van between the parked cars on the crushed-gravel drive and drove to the front of the white plantation-style sorority house. Two familiar figures sat beside a stack of boxes strapped to a dolly like the one in the back of the van.

  Holly looked at Adam and sighed. “My sisters.” She hopped down to unlock the van’s double doors.

  “Let me.” Adam reached inside for the dolly, his shoulder brushing hers. Startled by the jolt of awareness she felt, Holly quickly backed away. Her sisters provided a welcome distraction.

  “I’m sorry,” Ivy apologized with an aggrieved look at Laurel. It obviously wasn’t the first time she’d done so.

  “It was humiliating,” came Laurel’s whiskey-voiced declaration. “And in front of my own sorority sisters. It’ll be all over SMU by tomorrow morning. I never wanted to do this in the first place.”

  Holly quickly intervened before Adam was exposed to any more sisterly squabbling.

  “Laurel, it was your idea to approach the sororities, since the students are busy with finals. And it was a good one,” she added hastily. “With all the jobs we’re doing this season, a mix-up was bound to happen sooner or later,” she said, directing a reassuring look at Ivy. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got the right decorations, but we’re going to have to trim the tree now. I know it’s late—will it be a problem for the girls to have us working?” she asked Laurel.

  But her sisters had noticed Adam. He flashed them a grin as he shut the van’s doors. “Hi.”

  “Hello.” They spoke in unison and turned questioning eyes to Holly.

  “Adam is a temporary recruit. Adam Markland, my sisters, Laurel and Ivy.”

  Laurel sidled forward. “I hope you’re aware of the honor, Adam. Holly never allows us to have guests on a job.” Every so often, Holly noticed, there was a drop or two of vinegar in Laurel’s syrupy voice.