Читать книгу The Magic Of Mistletoe - Carolyn Hector - Страница 11

Chapter 2

The day after the party, Macy found herself sitting in her office, thumbing through various sketches she’d worked on all morning. The swivel chair squeaked as she leaned back in a half stretch, half yawn, her eyes surveying the room. In times like these, she still did not believe how blessed she was to have such a successful career. The two-story Victorian office she owned in historic Frenchtown had doubled as the home where she’d raised her children until she earned enough money. Now she traveled in to work from her ranch-style home just outside the city limits.

For ten years, Macy had worked her fingers to the bone, using her skills as an interior decorator for a corporation and moonlighting during the holidays as an exterior decorator to help pad her little nest egg. Oh, how hard the first two years of starting her own business were—she’d been in the middle of a divorce from her best friend at the time, Mario Polizzi, and taking care of an infant and a precocious child.

Macy owed a lot to Mario, and it was easy to maintain their friendship now simply because they both realized they never should have gotten married. Mario and his family had played a big part in Macy’s life ever since her parents had passed away. Since they dated exclusively throughout high school, they both figured marriage was their next step. Getting pregnant right after prom sped up their plans. While trying to rebuild her life, Macy took on clients who needed help with their outside decorating ideas for the holidays. That business became a niche in town and led her to become extremely successful.

In a few weeks, all the homes in Tallahassee would be judged for their holiday spirit. Each neighborhood nominated a winner and posted their favorite home on Pinterest. From there, the home with the most votes collected a win. The award, courtesy of the mayor’s office, came with a cash prize, but more important, clout in the community for having the most spirit. In the past ten years, one of Macy’s homes had always won. Her biggest competitor was herself. But she never took all the credit. Each customer would sit down with her and give their ideas of what they wanted. Macy just put it into motion.

Now here she sat, a successful decorator, and she couldn’t focus on one single thing. The Christmas clock down the hall ticked away. The bells on the front door indicating a visitor were silent. In a way, Macy hoped the feeling of excitement when she heard her bells chime over her front door would never go away. It kept her on her toes. There was always a challenge lurking around the corner, but right now she desperately needed some motivation. The Wainwrights’ ideas weren’t sparking anything with her.

The Wainwrights were her latest clients. They were a middle-aged couple, married for twenty years, and wanted to finally get involved in the Christmas tradition. None of Macy’s suggestions had worked for them, and none of theirs were things Macy could pull off. She couldn’t make real snow appear and stick for the duration of the holiday season. They had a hard time understanding that if they did not sign their contract, Macy would not to be able to help them. They were going to have to stop just showing up every other day with their latest outrageous ideas.

Tucking her pencil behind her ear, Macy adjusted the cowl-necked sweater and strained her ear for her latest Christmas gadget, a buff, half-naked Santa with one hand on his hip and the other behind his head while he gave off a hearty “ho, ho, ho.”

Any distraction was welcome right about now. The lead from her pencil barely made any marks. For the first time in a long time, her mind was elsewhere. Her wrists flicked a few times, sketching the outline of a face that had haunted her all night long. From the curve of his lips to his chiseled jawline, Duke Rodriguez’s face was burned into her brain. Two cups of coffee couldn’t get her to concentrate. Duke’s cocky smile, his eyes and the way he flirted with her yesterday flashed through her mind.

Matters didn’t get better when the office timer went off and the television screen popped on, directly to WKSS channel seven. Duke’s deep baritone voice filtered through the office. She’d turned her back on the television, but she could still hear him as if he were right behind her. She would never admit it out loud, but his deep voice with the slight island accent made her stomach flip with butterflies. The fact that he had this kind of effect on her bothered her to no end. She was supposed to dislike him. And yet she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

There had been a whisper running through the Baez home last night when he’d dared to show his face. Everyone with children who watched Tune In, Tallahassee, the morning show, fumed with anger. Macy expected her friends to break out the pitchforks, but all Duke had to do was walk in the room with that nice suit on, smile his dazzling smile and flash those big brown eyes of his, and everyone reconsidered their boycott. Macy found it best to hold her grudge against him. To have a crush on him from afar was one thing; it was a different story when he was in the flesh, flirting with her. And it was obvious yesterday evening that he had been hitting on her.

Macy had caught Duke staring at her quite a bit at the party but refused to give him eye contact. A man like him probably had a hundred women throwing themselves at him. And then there was the horrible way he got himself introduced. He should have been ashamed of himself for putting Pablo and Monique in a position like that. But that didn’t stop him. He actually had the nerve to try to hire her. She was glad she had a busy schedule. She had five homes to decorate tomorrow, and then every day until a week before Christmas she was busy.

The heavy bells on top of the door chimed. Macy perked up. Despite her dislike for Duke’s personality, Macy felt her heart sink a tad when she spied her assistant Serena Berks coming in the door. She had no idea why she would even think a man like Duke Rodriguez would come to her place of business. She didn’t know what she would have done with him if he had shown up, but then a devilish little voice nagged at the back of her mind, reminding her that it hadn’t been that long since she knew what to do with a man.

Down the hall, there came a grunting, a cursing and a sniffling. Poor Serena was dragging in a huge plastic mouse statue with all her might. At five foot two, Serena was just two inches shorter than Macy. The giant mouse, decked out in a red-and-green stitched scarf, had to have been about five seven. Serena’s bobbed red hair was disheveled around her freckled face.

Macy had hoped to find one or both of the male assistants she’d hired to help lift and cart around some of the heavier decorations. It was the peak season for exterior holiday decorating and the musclemen, Spencer and Andy, hadn’t shown up. Usually, they broke the frat boy stereotype by being reliable. But late last night Spencer had left an apologetic message about not being here this week. She prayed it was a horrible prank.

Getting up from her desk, Macy peered down the hall to where she had a view of the front door. She shook her head and hid her smile as she twisted her hair into a bun and secured it with her pencil.

“Hey,” Macy pouted. “Santa didn’t announce your presence.”

“That’s because I threatened him within an inch of his life if he called me a ho one more time.” Serena projected her voice a little louder so that it could be heard upstairs and in the backyard. “A lil’ help here!”

“We’re the only ones here,” Macy shouted as she walked back to her desk and closed her sketchbook.

The outline of the Wainwrights’ lawn was just about done. She hoped they would be happy with it. They’d better be happy. This would be the third time changing things around, and Macy’s time was precious, not to mention that her staff seemed to be dwindling for the Thanksgiving holiday.

“Here,” Macy offered, picking up the pace down the steps and into the foyer, “let me help.”

“No, you don’t have to,” Serena argued as she stood the mouse in his upright position. The unplugged giant mouse stood with a black nose, which, when plugged in, turned red. The plastic book of Christmas carols in his hand was open. From a distance no one could read the words, but up close someone had written, “Who let the dogs out?” as a silly joke.

“Where are the boys?”

Biting her bottom lip, Macy hesitated to tell Serena the truth. From the looks of her dust-covered garnet-and-gold T-shirt and jean shorts, the bookkeeper’s morning had started off rough. She must have climbed over everything in the shed just to find the mouse. Going into the storage space went above and beyond the call of duty.

At thirty, Serena had been her assistant for the last four years while she worked on her BS and now her MBA at Florida State University. She was a pencil pusher who kept up with Macy’s schedules and appointments, yet here she was doing all the grunt work. She wondered if Serena would believe that the boys had been toppled over by a giant snowball. It was highly unlikely. The weather for Thanksgiving was scheduled to be a balmy seventy-eight degrees.

“They left an apologetic message on my answering machine saying they left early for Thanksgiving. I kind of hoped they were joking.”

“No way! I thought they agreed to be here over the break.”

Macy rested her hands on her hips as she studied the mouse. “I know. But according to the message, they somehow—” she rested her finger on her chin to recall the exact way the boys had phrased it “—scored some serious tickets.” She mocked Spencer’s surfer-boy accent with air quotes.

Serena’s laugh turned into a hacking cough. She shook her strawberry-tinted head. “That’s pretty lame of them. They worked last year. They understand how this is the busiest weekend for you.”

Shrugging, Macy tried to smile, already figuring how to handle things. In a way, she looked forward to working alone tomorrow and Friday. She was prepared. Key organizational skills helped keep Macy sane. What took most grown men all day to do, she could complete in an hour. She had a few homes in the morning with light decorations. Extra hands stringing up the lights might have been nice, but Macy could handle the work; after all, she’d started this business ten years ago with no help.

The only stickler in her plans was the Wainwrights’ home, simply because they kept changing their ideas. Typically the slots for holiday decorations got booked up by the Fourth of July. Every weekend until just before Christmas, she was busy. Most trusted Macy’s ideas. A lot of homeowners’ associations even required their neighborhoods to decorate unless religion prohibited it. Doing the work on her own wasn’t a problem, especially since the kids were at her former in-laws’ house. Perhaps it would be a bit of a hassle trying to unload her truck, but she could get it done.

“Achoo.” Serena sneezed.

Panic ripped through Macy’s body. With the boys gone, she was going to have to lean on Serena more. “Are you okay?” she asked slowly.

“Just a sneeze,” Serena said, swatting the mouse on the ear. “He did this to me, stupid dusty thing...achoo!”

Macy raised her left eyebrow in question. “Maybe you ought to drink some orange juice just in case. C’mon, I believe I spotted some when I put up some leftovers last night.”

“Maybe,” Serena answered as she followed Macy. “Oh, and I forgot to tell you who I ran into yesterday while you went to the party. Remember the party I wasn’t invited to?”

“Who?” Macy asked with a sigh, anticipating Serena’s guilt trip.

The sound of their footsteps on the hardwood floors blocked out Serena’s exasperated sigh as they crossed the former living room, now a sitting room. Macy straightened a Christmas ornament on a seven-foot Fraser fir tree and kicked one of the shiny green display presents with red polka dots out of the walkway. On the other side of the stairs, across from the living room, was once Macy’s dining room, now two downstairs offices. In the back of the house was the kitchen; access was gained from the thin hallway from the offices or directly straight back from the front door and living room. Macy opened the white double-door refrigerator. Pictures of previous jobs she’d had over the years mingled with Gia’s and MJ’s old drawings.

“I saw Mr. Officer and a Gentleman.”

“Who?”

“Ugh, Lawrence, the pilot you dated.”

Macy hardly called going out with Lawrence Hobbs dating. The whole reason Macy had gutted her Victorian home was to meet clients here in the spacious waiting room or in one of the back offices, or even better, at their homes to better survey the landscape. Lawrence, on the other hand, had one reason or another to meet her at a coffee shop, café and even the park to pick her brain about decorating. Eventually, the two of them figured out that Serena should do all the scheduling. Lawrence, a sweet man, had retired from the air force and settled down in Tallahassee. At the party yesterday, someone mentioned he’d started his own private airline, albeit a small one.

“You mean the pilot you kept leaving me alone with when he came over here?”

“Yes. I think he seemed really interested in how you were doing. I think you ought to give him another chance.”

“Really?” Macy said very quizzically with a raised eyebrow. “Because when I saw him yesterday as well, at said party you weren’t invited to, Lawrence mentioned his new girlfriend, one of the judges from last year’s holiday decoration contest.”

Serena opened her mouth, but closed it quickly. Her matchmaking skills were lost on this case, no matter how hard she tried. This time of year, dating was out of the question for Macy. Macy smiled and thought of her children and how they would react if she started dating. Their father, Mario, dated. Hell, he’d been dating before they divorced.

Macy shook her head as she bent over to look for something nutritious for Serena. These days, Macy kept the refrigerator stocked with various juices from orange to grape and apple. Today, she seemed to have only orange left. Next to the drinks were containers of leftover turkey and all the fixings. She’d made extra plates last night for herself and the boys to eat after work. Now realizing they weren’t coming in, she had extra extra leftovers. Grabbing a glass from the dishwasher, Macy poured Serena some juice and patted the bar stool. “Drink up.”

“Orange?” She frowned, being ornery. “But I don’t like orange.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Serena.”

“But I’m not begging.” Serena tried to argue, but Macy just stared at her. Playfully pouting, Serena climbed onto the high-backed bar stool. “Fine, I’ll drink even though I’m not sick. So what do you think about Lawrence?”

“I don’t think much about him,” Macy answered honestly. Lawrence was a nice-looking man. He was about five eleven with cocoa-brown skin and a trimmed beard; his was one of many faces Macy had seen yesterday. He had come over and given her a hug and thanked her again for the work she’d done on his house, but told her this year there were so many changes in his life that he wouldn’t be around to enjoy the decorations.

Serena rolled her eyes and gave a huff. “He was looking mighty hot when I saw him. He was on his way to the party I wasn’t invited to.”

But was he as hot as Duke Rodriguez? a little voice nagged in the back of Macy’s brain.

“Hmph.” Serena’s eyebrows rose. “That was a pretty funny look you just gave. Did you meet someone? Oh, wait, tell me—how was meeting Mr. Dimples?”

With a droll eye roll, Macy shook her head at the nickname her thirteen-year-old daughter had given the obnoxious anchorman. Serena didn’t help matters whenever Gia came to the office after school. They had been fans of the anchorman before he came to Tallahassee, and now they were bursting at the seams at him being here. Gia had actually wanted to miss going to her grandparents’ house for the week just so she could go to the Baezes’ holiday party and see Duke.

“Exactly as I expected.”

That had been the understatement of the year. He was also a bit more than what she’d expected. Monique warned her ahead of time that Pablo had invited Duke home for some old-fashioned Dominican cuisine. He’d arrived in a bright red Ferrari, and parked front and center of the driveway for everyone to see as they entered the house. She’d spied him the minute he walked in. Duke was good-looking, but of course he knew that. He was the only one in the room wearing a two-thousand-dollar suit. The average household in Tallahassee brought that in during one month.

“Oh my God, did you speak to him?”

“He spoke.” Macy shrugged.

“Were you nice to him?”

“I spoke,” Macy said with a coy smile.

The last thing Macy had said to Serena about Duke before the party was that she was going to give him a piece of her mind when she saw him. She’d come into the office seething on the morning of the incident, demanding to know where he got off telling the world that there was no Santa Claus. Andy and Spencer had sworn they’d never seen Macy so worked up before. Velda Thompson, her grandmother, had taught her to always act rationally. It was a long and hard lesson for Macy to learn, but she thought this situation deserved a few foul words. Grandma V must have been rolling around in her grave.

“Did you give him a piece of your mind?”

“I told that athle-tante...”

“Oh-em-gee!” Serena stopped her with squealing. She sounded just like Gia. “Please tell me you did not call him that.”

Macy shrugged. “I may have.”

“I’m going to die of embarrassment. He probably thinks you’re some sort of freak.”

She couldn’t have been that much of a freak if the man still tried to come on to her. Macy decided to omit the part about Duke’s nerve to hit on her at the party. Serena was always trying to push single men in her direction, despite Macy’s lack of time for one. Her business was booming, and when she wasn’t working, her kids kept her busy. But that never stopped her assistant from trying. Serena would always bail her out of meetings after she did a background check on the single men. She claimed that seven years of not dating, let alone no sex, was not good for a woman.

But Macy had brushed off Duke’s flirting as she did with most of the men she’d come across. A lot of men tried to use the excuse of hiring her for a job. Duke Rodriguez was no different than the rest. Well, he might have been hotter than any man she’d ever laid eyes on, but what did it matter? She had no time for someone like him. And he had no time for her. Duke wasn’t going to be in town long, and Macy saw no reason to start something that couldn’t be finished. Monique was only on maternity leave until after the Christmas holidays. She would return with the coverage of ringing in the New Year. Her stance on dating, even if it was Duke Rodriguez, wasn’t going to change. So what if he had those deep dimples or those luscious lips that made even eating food look sexy?

“Answer my question.” Serena took a long sip of juice, but kept her eyes on her boss. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened, per se. He did ask if I could work for him.”

The news made Serena choke. Macy didn’t believe her for one minute. She was the mother of two kids who always tried faking sick. Finally Serena settled down and asked, “And you turned him down?”

“As it is, we’re already short-staffed, and you’re getting sick. How am I going to take on another client?”

“I’m not sick,” Serena said, fighting back a sneeze. Macy watched Serena’s eyes redden as she tried to hold it in. If she wasn’t getting sick, then she was having a major allergic reaction to something. Her nose was a faint pink.

Macy folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the counter. “Want to bet?”

“I am working through this. I need to hear good things. Tell me more about him, Macy,” she whined.

“What is there to tell?” Macy’s upper lip curled. “He is a typical man.”

“Ugh! You are so lucky you met him,” Serena moaned. “I wish I could have.”

The doors over the glass front door opened with a jingle. The Santa monitor went off with a deep ho ho ho. Serena made a funny face the minute Macy got up to walk over to the door. Serena had closed her eyes, crossed her fingers and begun chanting.

“I wish I could win a million dollars. I wish I could win a million dollars.”

The wonders of that girl never ceased to entertain Macy. Serena was always doing something superstitious like that. She thought if she spoke a person’s name out loud and the person appeared, the same thing might happen if she spoke out loud her next wish, usually concerning money. Every time she drove by a graveyard she held her breath and crossed herself; she picked up pennies on their tails off the ground and turned them over so the next person could have good luck. Macy headed out the kitchen doorway to catch a glimpse of her customer. Instantly, her throat went dry and she felt that whiplash appeal in her neck at the sight.

There, standing by her sexy Santa, stood the one and only Duke Rodriguez, dressed down compared to yesterday. Gone was the custom-made suit, but what he had on was still just as bad: jeans made to fit his long, powerful legs, a blue T-shirt that fit across his broad chest just a little too tight and a black leather coat that probably cost the same as her fee for one Christmas-decorated house. His dark hair was cropped against his head, framing his olive-skinned face. And as he smiled, knowing she was ogling him, his deep dimples popping out as he had the nerve to modestly blush. He could have easily stepped out of the pages of GQ magazine.

She knew she’d been clear yesterday when she said she was too busy. “Can I help you?”

“I certainly hope so,” Duke said with a dangerous, juicy, bad-boy grin. He caught Serena’s attention and nodded his dark head in her direction. “Hey, how are you? I’m Duke...”

“Rodriguez,” Serena answered for him as she moved with lightning-like speed, nearly bowling Macy over just to shake his hand. “I know. Second-string shortstop for the Yankees for two seasons before you started work as a sports correspondent, prime-time anchor on ESPN for a few years, and then working from New York and DC. I’ve followed your career. We’re so glad to have you in our little small town.”

“Well, who knew a high school kid like yourself would be so into the news? I’m flattered.”

The person most flattered was Serena. She gave an unrecognizable high-pitched giggle and swayed back and forth. Her face was the same color as the red in her shirt. Macy refrained from rolling her eyes as Serena beamed at his flattery. “Oh, no, I’m not in high school.”

“This is my assistant, Serena.” Macy made the quick introduction to keep Serena from making a bigger fool of herself. “What do you want, Mr. Rodriguez?”

“Now, didn’t I tell you that my friends call me Duke?”

Macy raised an eyebrow and folded her arms across the front of her short-sleeved red sweater. “Mr. Rodriguez.”

Serena gently reached over to wrap her arm around Macy’s shoulder. She squeezed her just a little too hard. “Excuse my boss. She’s a bit delusional.”

Duke nodded and smiled. “I see. Well, I was hoping that was the case yesterday when I asked for Macy’s services.”

“I told you yesterday, Mr. Rodriguez.”

“Duke,” he corrected.

It was useless. She could spend the rest of the afternoon playing this Abbott and Costello bit over whether or not to call him Duke or Mr. Rodriguez. Macy huffed and caved in. The sooner he left, the sooner she could get back to work. “Fine. I told you the situation yesterday, Duke. I simply don’t have time to decorate your house.”

“I’ll pay double.”

“No.”

“Please hear me out.” Duke held his large hands out, pleading. Macy spied how smooth they were, compared to hers. Subconsciously she wrung her calloused hands together. A celebrity athlete like him was used to snapping his fingers and having people, specifically women, jump to his aid. Well, Macy knew she wasn’t one of those women. If he wanted her help, he should have booked her six months to a year in advance, like the rest of her clients. “I’m begging. I came home yesterday and someone had egged my front porch.”

“Damn kids.” Serena tsked and shook her head.

“The sad thing is that I don’t think it’s the kids. It’s the mothers in my neighborhood. The day before that, someone hung Santa in a tree and toilet-papered my house. I spent all night trying to get ‘Santa Killer’ off my front door.”

An image of Duke standing in his doorway in nothing but a pair of red basketball shorts while scrubbing the door with a sponge and a foamy white bucket of soap entered her mind. She could picture the muscles on his back flexing as he held on to the door for balance while he reached down and soaked his sponge. A warm glow spread up Macy’s chest as she blinked the image out of her mind and focused her gaze on her guest. “I’m really sorry for what you’re going through, but I’m sure things will blow over.”

“You know, I could always come over and stake out your place for you,” Serena chimed in.

A tint of red touched Duke’s cheeks. “Thanks, but I think what I really need to do is throw a good old-fashioned Christmas party just to show everyone that I’m not the ogre that they seem to think. Outing Santa was an accident.”

“Sure, just like telling that athlete he needed a vasectomy, or telling a teen actress that she might want to consider dropping her parents as managers,” Macy ticked off. “Or what about you telling that singer that he ought to come out of the closet?”

“So you’ve followed my work?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. His mouth opened wide into a smile. She hated that she thought about how kissable his lips looked right now.

Perhaps wiggling his eyebrows was a dealmaker when getting a woman to come home with him, but Macy reminded herself that she wasn’t interested. To prove it, Macy rolled her eyes and feigned disinterest with a slight yawn. “My thirteen-year-old daughter follows you. I just happen to be the type of parent that monitors what she watches.”

“And so she and your eight-year-old son were watching?” He cocked his head to the side and grinned. “And you were watching me, too?”

Shifting her weight from one heel to the other, Macy shrugged her shoulders. “For your information, I happen to watch the show every morning. I was doing that before Monique went on maternity leave.” The slow, lopsided smile Duke gave her was admittedly sexy. His attempt at what he must have considered his A-game was sad. “But I may start watching the other channel.”

“See, that’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.”

“Perhaps we need to sit down for this,” Serena said.

Looking over at her, Macy noticed that her assistant was breaking out in a sweat. The last thing she wanted was for Serena to get sick. She had finals coming up soon and she needed all the studying she could get. This was exactly why she wanted the boys here this weekend: because she wanted to give Serena a break.

“Yes, please come in and have a seat.” She stepped aside and waved her hand to the left, toward the parlor area. The hardwood floors echoed with the heavy footsteps of his rather large feet. Duke sat down in the Queen Anne chair and crossed one leg over the other. He filled the chair like royalty. Serena sat beside him on the adjacent matching couch, still batting her eyes at him. Macy stepped into the kitchen first to grab Serena’s glass of juice.

Once everyone was situated, Macy sat down and sighed. “So what is it you’re trying to avoid?”

“Well.” Duke placed both feet on the ground, rested his elbows on his thighs and leaned forward. “You seem to care about Monique, and you are aware Pablo is practically my brother. I just want to do a good job for them. I would hate for Monique lose her viewers due to my stupidity.”

“Aw, you are so sweet,” Serena cooed, leaning forward in her seat. She folded her hands underneath her chin and cocked her head to the side. It looked uncomfortable as she sipped on her juice.

If the girl flirted any more, she’d be sitting in his lap. Macy shook her head at her. Was she really going to believe this? It was a ploy, Macy thought. Somehow, Serena was doing one of her matchmaking schemes. Macy leaned back in the chair opposite him and studied his face.

“I told you, I don’t have time. On top of everything else, two of my employees took off this weekend, which is going to push any time that I have to the limit.”

“What if I paid triple?”

With that, Serena choked on her juice again.

Macy ignored her. “It doesn’t work like that, Duke. I have limited time.”

“Well, technically, you just have the homes tomorrow to do for the ones that are out of town.” Serena offered up the schedule. “Too bad we’re missing our handymen to help out.” She gave Duke a wink. Reaching out, Serena touched Duke’s biceps. “Oh my, what big muscles you have.”

He at least had the sense to blush. “Thank you.”

“Serena.” Macy sent a warning glance at her friend. “Control yourself.”

“What? I’m just pointing out that our usual muscle guys are going to the big game this weekend and I guess they drove down early.”

“So I can help,” Duke said excitedly. “I’m off until Monday, but even still, after that I am done with the morning news by seven. I can help you during the day with your work, and that will free up your time to help me throw my party, right?”

Serena sat back in the couch and grinned, ignoring the evil glare Macy shot her. “Beggars can’t be choosers, Macy. Besides, don’t forget that the boys are going to have exams coming up soon, so they’re not going to be able to help out as much over the next few weeks.”

“No.” Macy shook her head.

“Why not?” Duke asked.

Serena leaned forward and faced Macy, putting her hand over the side of her face so that Duke couldn’t see what she was saying, even though her whisper didn’t do what it was supposed to. “He’s paying triple, Macy. With your new house, the additional sheds you’ve ordered and the two trucks, the money will come in handy. Remember, I do the books...it’d be nice to see a chunk in there.”

“No,” Macy hissed.

“Why not?” Duke and Serena chorused.

“For starters, we typically meet up at four in the morning.”

“Um.” Duke cleared his throat. “I’m doing the morning news. I’m always up at four.”

There was nothing more Macy wanted to do than to protest, but if she did she would only look silly. Monique and Pablo were her dear friends. They were the first people to help her get her business started, by offering free advertising. Every year, she decorated their home for free, just because she felt she owed them. What Duke had done was stupid, but Macy also knew he could be the cause of viewers leaving Monique’s show. She couldn’t let that happen.

She could handle working with Duke. She could handle his cockiness. Lord knew she’d been through worse with Mario. Macy gave Duke a once-over. She still doubted, regardless of his solid six-foot-four frame, that he had ever done manual labor. Had he been on a ladder? Could he string lights? Would he know how to test if one bulb was broken and what to do if it was?

Macy’s mental argument raged on in her head. He’d be more in the way than anything else. And more likely Duke would ask to work inside. If that were the case, she figured he’d sit inside half the time while she stayed outdoors. That would work out perfectly, because then she wouldn’t have to spend too much time with him.

Folding her arms across her chest, she looked at him and reluctantly said, “Fine.”

“Well, that settles that,” Duke beamed. “I’m all yours.”