The Nice Boxset Read online

  “Not even for your own happiness?” Declan navigated the turn, then turned to look at her again.

  “No. And besides, it’s not happiness. It’s just flirting.”

  “So if it’s just flirting, what can it hurt?”

  She sighed. “Because it wouldn’t be just flirting, eventually. And I’m not in the market for...casual relationships, let’s say.”

  Declan frowned. “And I am?”

  “Well I don’t know. Are you?”

  “No, I’m not. I was with my last girlfriend for three years, and she dumped me for my best friend. And you realize you just contradicted yourself, right? First it’s just harmless flirting, and then it’s not. Pick a feature, sweetheart.”

  “This is my apartment complex here. Straight back, last building on the right,” Holly said, pointing to a series of older, red brick, two-story apartment buildings. “I’m sorry about your girlfriend. She’s an idiot if she gave you up.”

  They pulled up to her building and Holly hiked her purse up on her shoulder, opened the door and stuck a leg out. “Thanks for the ride, Declan.”

  “Wait, Holly,” Declan said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you how to live your life. Your kids are lucky to have you as their mom. I just...everyone deserves to be happy. Especially someone as beautiful as you.”

  “So ugly people deserve less happiness?” Holly said, arching an eyebrow.

  “What? No. That’s not what I—” Declan protested.

  “Relax, I was teasing.”

  “What I meant was…” he sighed and wiped his face with his hand. “What I meant was you’re an incredible, stunning woman, Holly, and you deserve to be happy.

  Holly blushed yet again, and swung her other leg out of the car to stand up. “Thank you, Declan. You’re sweet. And thanks for the ride, and for dinner.”

  She shut the door and turned to walk away, but Declan rolled his window down and called after her. “You’re coming to the holiday party next weekend, right?”

  “I don’t know, I’ll have to see if I can find a sitter.”

  “No, bring them. It’s family-friendly party. I’m dressing up as Santa.”

  “You’re dressing up as Santa?” Holly grinned at the mental image. “I thought Santa was supposed to be fat? And jolly?”

  Declan faked a hurt look. “I can be jolly.” He turned serious. “Say you’ll come. It wouldn’t be the same without you. There will be cookies and hot chocolate, and personalized presents for all the kids. Jodi and Michael will have a great time, I promise.”

  Holly felt something in her heart melt a little at the openly hopeful look on his face. “Okay. Fine. We’ll be there.”

  Holly turned away again, but only made it a few steps before she was halted in her tracks by Declan’s next words. “Hey, Holls. I think you’re sex on toast, too.”

  And then he was gone, tires spinning in the dusting of snow.

  He called her Holls, and he thought she was sex on toast….

  Whatever that meant.

  Her capacity to resist his charm and good looks was wearing thin, and she was starting to forget the reasons why she was supposed to be resisting him in the first place.

  Holly knocked on Delcan’s office door early Monday morning. Her vivid green eyes flicked to his and then away. She plucked at the hem of her shirt while she waited for Declan to finish his phone call.

  When he hung up, she said, “I just wanted to say thank you for having my car towed and fixed. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Declan smiled at her, his eyes warm, like melted milk chocolate.

  “He also fixed the radio, the suspension, the brakes, and the alignment.”

  “And changed the fluids, rotated your tires, replaced your windshield wipers, and fixed the serpentine belt so it wouldn’t squeal anymore,” Declan pointed out.

  Holly shifted uncomfortably. “Mister Montrose, that was unnecessary. That must have cost like, over a thousand dollars. I can’t—I can’t pay you back until my next paycheck.”

  Declan waved his hand. “If I wanted you to pay me back I would have sent you the bill. Again, it’s called an act of kindness. And quit calling me ‘Mister Montrose.’ Call me Declan, or Dec.”

  “Did the mechanic also leave the red rose on the driver’s seat?” Holly asked.

  Declan’s grin was a self-satisfied smirk. “Nope. That part was all me.”

  Holly seemed to be struggling for words. “I—I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “You say, ‘Thanks, Dec. You sure are nice, and yes, I would like to have dinner with you Wednesday night.’”

  “I—what?” Holly felt confusion blaze through her.

  Was he asking her out? She glanced behind herself at the open door, at the blatantly curious expressions on the other employees faces. He was seriously asking her out on a date, while they were both at work? She was flattered, panicked, and all sorts of embarrassed.

  “It’s called a date, Holly. Wednesday night, seven p.m. I have reservations. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.” He doodled on the notepad on his desk, as if to hide his own nerves.

  “I don’t know, I...I’d like to, but my kids...” Holly stammered.

  “Listen. This is between Declan and Holly, not Mr. Montrose and Miss Wright, okay? And I know your mom can watch them late, since you’re always here till at least nine o’clock most nights. You clock out early, go home, get dressed, and tell your mom you have a date and you’ll be back by ten.”

  “I don’t know.” She glanced over her shoulder, then back at him, panicking. Everyone was listening, watching. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I want to, but...”

  “But what?” Declan seemed to finally realize his office door was open and that the people in the cubicles nearest the office were listening. He sighed, moving around the desk to close the door, then sat in one of the chairs facing his desk, not quite looking at Holly. “Shit. I’m putting you on the spot at work. I’m so sorry. This was…a huge a mistake. I’m sorry, Holly. Forget it. Look, I’ll still see you on Saturday for the party, right?”

  He seemed so upset, embarrassed, and let down, and Holly wanted to reassure him, wanted to take back her refusal, but she didn’t know how. “Yeah, I—we’ll be there. I told my kids about it, and they’re really excited.”

  Declan stood up and opened the door for her. “Good. I’m looking forward to meeting them.”

  Holly moved toward the door, then paused. “Thanks again.” She stopped with her hand on the knob, and turned back to look at her boss. “Declan, listen, I—”

  He shook his head, holding up his hand to forestall her. “I’m an idiot, Holly. I don’t know what I was thinking. Just…forget it.”

  Holly wanted to say something, anything to alleviate the obvious unhappiness on his face, but nothing came to mind. She smiled at him softly, and then left the office.

  The rest of the week moved as slow as molasses. Holly found reasons to avoid Declan, and was coolly polite toward him when they did have reason to interact. For his part, Declan’s eyes followed her, and she often caught him staring at her from behind his desk, his expression thoughtful. He was careful to keep any interactions between them professionally polite when they did speak, however.

  Holly wasn’t sure if she liked how empty and cold she felt, now that she’d experienced the warmth of Declan’s presence.

  By the time Saturday’s party arrived, Declan was feeling out of sorts. He’d thrown himself into work, organizing the party, buying individual gifts for all the children, of which there were at least fifty between his two hundred-plus employees. He’d made sure to find out about each of the children so he’d know what they all wanted, arranging brief meetings with his employees over the last few weeks.

  Anything to keep himself from thinking about Holly, and how he’d messed up with her.

  Anything to keep from spiraling down into the depths of lonely depression, as always happened around this time of year. He didn’t ha
ve any family of his own, so this Christmas party was his way of celebrating the holidays. It was the highlight of his entire year, although he doubted anyone realized it.

  He tried to ignore the fact that he spent twice as long deciding on what to get Holly’s kids, and twice as much money on each of them. He nearly bought Holly a new cell phone to replace the one she’d broken, but he didn’t think she would accept it.

  On the day of the party, he donned an elaborate Santa suit, complete with a stuffed belly and gold-rimmed, half-moon spectacles. He pushed aside the roiling welter of feelings regarding Holly and summoned as much holiday cheer as he could. The kids expected a jolly Santa, after all.

  For the first time in several years, every single employee on the roster came to the party, husbands and wives and kids in tow, filling the reception hall he’d rented with loud, boisterous laughter, and chattering, scampering kids. Declan sat on the huge, hand-carved wooden throne and hauled child after child onto his lap, listening to wish-lists, ho-ho-ho-ing in his deepest voice. Holly’s children, Jodi and Michael, were the last in line. Jodi was a serious girl with dark hair, curly like Holly’s.

  “Ho, ho, ho!” Declan boomed, smiling down at the serious little girl. “Merry Christmas, my dear! What would you like for Christmas this year?”

  “I know you’re not the real Santa, but I figure you can get a message to him for us, right?” Jodi said, head tilted to the side as he considered her wish. “My wish for Christmas this year isn’t for me. Grandma already got me the Barbie movie I asked for and the Frozen DVD. I saw them in a bag in her trunk one day while Mike and I were helping her bring in groceries. That’s all I really wanted, anyway, so I don’t need more stuff and we can’t afford much anyway. I know Mommy actually brings us the presents from Santa, but I still believe in the real, actual Santa Claus, only you can’t tell anyone since the other kids in my grade don’t believe any more.” She paused. “So anyway, what I really want for Christmas is a friend for Mommy. She’s always working to keep a roof over our heads and fill our bottomless bellies, which is what Grandma tells us all the time. And I always wake up when she gets home late, but she doesn’t know I watch her from my bedroom door. She sits on the couch all by herself after Grandma leaves, and she’s all alone, and she seems sad. I think sometimes she cries, but it’s hard to tell because she just sits there and doesn’t make any loud noises like I do when I cry. She’s been even sadder than usual lately, and I just...I want her to have a friend.”

  Declan’s chest tightened as he pictured Holly sitting on a couch in the darkness, alone, late at night, crying softly and trying to keep it from her kids and her mother. He wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “I…well, I see. That’s all you want?” He fought to seem as if he was merely considering her words, rather than rocked by them. Jodi nodded, her wide green eyes serious. “That’s a very grown-up wish, little lady.”

  “Yeah, I know. Mrs. Jones—she’s my teacher—she tells me I’m an old soul, but I’m not super sure what that means. Maybe that sometimes I say things other kids my age don’t say. Anyway, Mrs. Jones told us the other day that Christmas isn’t just about getting toys and things, but about making other people happy to show we love them. And I love my Mommy, because she takes care of us all by herself. Grandma helps a lot, but she says she’s old and tired and she can’t keep up with Mike and me much longer, and all my friends have Mommies and Daddies both, except Annie Madison, who only has a Daddy, but that’s because her mommy got cancer and died. And I want Mommy to have a Daddy to help her.” She frowned. “I’m not sure I want a Daddy for me, because that’d be weird since I’ve never had one, but anyway it’s a wish for Mommy, not me, and I think that’s what she wants. A friend, I mean, not a Daddy, cause she already had a daddy but I never met him either.”

  Declan just nodded. His throat was thick and his gaze kept flickering to Holly, who was watching from the side, a curious expression on her face.

  “Can you do that, Santa?” Jodi insisted, shaking him by the white fur lining the front of his Santa coat. “Will you tell the real Santa to bring a friend for Mommy?”

  “I will certainly tell him for you, Jodi.” It was all Declan could manage, and he couldn’t take his eyes off Holly, who seemed to realize her daughter had asked for something unusual.

  “Good. And if you can tell him to make Mommy’s friend extra, extra cute, that would be even better.”

  That brought Declan’s attention back to the little girl. “An extra cute friend. Got it.” Declan squeezed her shoulders gently in a one-armed hug, his eyes merry, now. “So what should this extra, extra cute friend look like, do you think?”

  Jodi touched her chin with her index finger and tilted her head to the side. “Hmm. He should have big muscles, because Mommy likes men with big muscles. Mommy watches movies with a lot of kissing and stuff in them which I think is gross, but she watches them when she thinks I’m asleep, which Mikey is asleep but I’m not, and anyway all the boys in those movies have big muscles.”

  Declan laughed. “I wonder what your mom would say if she knew you were staying up so late, watching her watch movies?”

  “Oh, she’d probably ground me forever.” Jodi’s eyes widened in alarm. “You won’t tell her, will you? Please don’t tell her!”

  “Oh, no. Your secret is safe with me,” Declan said, laughing. “Santa-child wish privilege, you know. I’m not allowed to tell Mommies and Daddies what their little girls and boys ask for. So should Mommy’s friend be tall, or short?”

  “Tall. It would be weird if she had to bend down to kiss him. In the movies, the girl always has to look up and stand on tiptoe.”

  Declan nodded, as if this were the most normal conversation in the world. “I see. And should he have light hair, or dark?”

  Jodi shrugged. “I dunno. I heard Mommy talking to Grandma one time. Not yesterday, or the day before that, but the day before that, and Mommy was telling Grandma how nice her boss was, Mr. Declan. She told Grandma, she said, ‘He’s so hot, Mom. You don’t even know. He’s so gorgeous he makes my knees wobbly.’ And I don’t know what that means exactly, but I think it means she really likes him. But then she said he was her boss and it would never work, but I don’t know why. Maybe Mommy thinks it wouldn’t work, but it really would? And really, I’m not sure what would work or not work, or what it means, but if her new friend was handsome like Mr. Declan, I think she would really like that.”

  Holly came up at that moment and frowned at Jodi, escorting her off of Declan’s lap. “Okay, sweetheart. You’ve been talking to Santa for a long time. It’s Michael’s turn, now.”

  Jodi rolled her eyes. “He was talking to me, Mom. It’s not my fault. And anyway Mikey’s already sent Santa about a billion letters asking for that Guardians of the Galaxy toy. I’m pretty sure Santa knows by now.”

  Holly tugged her daughter down. “Well, he still would like to sit on Santa’s lap and tell him, I’m sure. You’ve had your turn. Why don’t you go get some cookies and hot chocolate?”

  Jodi rolled her eyes, and then glanced back at Declan and winked broadly. Declan had a hard time keeping a straight face as he winked back, and then turned his attention to Michael, who was a younger, boy-version of Holly in the same way Jodi was a miniature Holly. He had the same wavy, curly brown hair and vivid green eyes, but Michael was all outgoing energy and nonstop motion, where Holly and Jodi seemed more given to stillness and thoughtfulness.

  Michael hopped up and started his list before Declan even asked. “I wan’ a Star-Lord set, the one what Jason from Mrs. Connelly’s class has with the mask and the guns that shoot darts, and that quad-blaster too, Eric has that and told me it was the bossest gun he gots, and I could shoot Jodi with it when she’s playing with her stupid Barbies, and I know Grandma already got me the movie so I don’t need that, and there’s the LEGO set too, but—hey Santa, are you even listening? You gonna remember all this?”

  Declan murmured an assent, assuring the chatterbox
little boy that he was paying attention, but as Michael went off into a lengthy description of the movie in question—just in case Santa hadn’t seen it yet—Declan’s attention wandered to Jodi and Holly, and so managed to overhear heard Holly ask Jodi what she’d asked Santa for.

  “I asked for a boyfriend,” Jodi said, matter-of-factly.

  “A what?” Holly spluttered. “Jodi Eileen Wright, you are too young for a boyfriend, and you know it—”

  “No, Mom. Not for me. For you.”

  Holly’s expression turned from serious and scolding to panicked in a heartbeat. “You what? Jodi, you’re not serious, are you?”

  Jodi gave her mom an impatiently irritated duh glance, very much like the one Holly had given Declan more than once. “Well, yeah. I told him you were lonely, ‘cause you are, even though you think I don’t notice.”

  Holly was visibly struggling for calm. “You did not tell Santa this, did you?” She knelt down in front of her daughter and took her by the arms. “Jodi, please be serious. You didn’t really say that to—to Santa, did you?”

  “Duh. How can he give me what I want if I don’t tell him? I mean, I know he’s not the real Santa, Mom. I’m not a little kid anymore. I told him you thought Mr. Declan was cute and your boyfriend should look like him.”

  Holly’s eyes slid closed in acute embarrassment and she covered her face in her hands, covering her cheeks as they turned bright red. She glanced at Declan, who waved and gave a loud “Ho, ho, ho!” as Michael scrambled away to find a cookie.

  Holly left Jodi’s side to stand in front of Declan, embarrassment bringing her near tears. “So my daughter—”

  Declan held up his hand. “Santa-child wishes are strictly confidential, according to the Articles of Christmas Wishing, section thirteen, lines four and five.”

  Holly drew a shaky breath, and then let it out with a weak laugh. “Got it. So...kids, huh?”