Читать книгу An Unexpected Holiday Gift - Martha Kennerson - Страница 9

Chapter 1

Keylan Kingsley walked in a circle, admiring his surroundings before coming to a stand in the middle of the large NBA-inspired gym outfitted with an oversize scoreboard and arena-style seating. Standing with his legs slightly apart, bouncing a basketball, he wore a black handmade Italian suit, a taupe-colored collarless shirt, black loafers and dark aviator sunglasses.

He looked up and scanned the ceiling, admiring all the banners that hung overhead; thirty of them, to be exact. They all represented championships won by various community leagues that this foundation supported. Keylan’s mind flashed back to a time when he’d played on one of those community championship teams and the memory made him smile.

“My, how time flies,” Keylan murmured to himself, placing the ball on the floor.

“Yes, it does. May I help you with something, Mr. Kingsley?” a sweet voice asked.

Keylan James Kingsley, or KJ, as he was known by his family, friends and legions of fans, was the youngest son and only heir to the Kingsley family’s billion-dollar oil and gas conglomerate who chose not to follow his siblings into the business. The twenty-six-year-old basketball star was a marquee player for the Houston Carriers.

Keylan turned toward the sound and his breath caught in his throat. He felt like he’d just been hit in the chest by a wayward basketball. Damn! She’s stunning...and fine, too. This might not be so bad, after all. “I certainly hope so, little momma,” he proclaimed, offering up a sexy smile, removing his sunglasses and placing them in the inside pocket of his jacket.

The beautiful woman standing several feet away wore blue jeans and a white T-shirt, both splattered with green and yellow paint. She rolled her eyes skyward, dropped her shoulders and placed her left hand on her hip. “I may be petite, Mr. Kingsley, but I’m certainly not your mother,” she replied. Her voice had a sharp edge to its tone.

Maybe I spoke too soon. “My apologies.” Keylan raised both hands in surrender. “You have me at a disadvantage. You know me but I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure, although you do look familiar.”

“Mia Ramirez,” said the feisty, olive-skinned beauty.

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. You missed a spot,” he said, pointing at the pristine-white tennis shoes she wore.

Mia looked down briefly before returning her gaze to Keylan, where she gifted him with a wide smile that lit up her eyes. It was as if she’d just experienced a pleasant memory.

Wow! “So...is it Ms. or Mrs. Ramirez?” he asked with a slightly raised left eyebrow.

“I’m the foundation’s activities director. What can I do for you, Mr. Kingsley?” she replied, dropping her smile, clearly unwilling to answer his not so subtle question.

Keylan set his mouth in a tight line. His legendary charm clearly wasn’t having an effect on Mia Ramirez. By now he should have her number, address and be making plans to meet up later. He gave his head a slow shake, pushed out a quick breath and said, “I have some mandatory community service hours I need to—”

“Let me guess,” Mia interrupted, nodding as she slowly walked toward him. “You’d like me to work with your assistant or someone to set up some type of photo opportunity with the kids where you come in and present us with a check.” She stopped and stood two feet in front of Keylan.

“Well—”

“No, wait. I got it.” Mia held up her left index finger and her nose crinkled as though she’d just encountered a foul smell. “You have a couple of signed balls you want to give me to auction off for the proceeds. You get a photo op, the hours you need, of course, and I get a big check...literally.”

Mia might look like a kid with the cute high ponytail and minimal makeup she wore, but looks were deceiving. Keylan folded his arms across his chest and stared down at Mia. “Seems like you already have a set of brass ones. You certainly don’t need any additional balls from me.”

Mia’s mouth flew open but quickly closed as she matched his stance. They stood glaring at each other in silence. While Keylan liked Mia’s moxie, he didn’t know what angered him more: the fact that she’d made such judgmental assumptions about him or, given his time restraints lately and the fact that he hadn’t spent much time in a place he loved so much, that she had every right to question his sincerity. Keylan’s aunt Elizabeth ran their foundation and had been trying to get him to spend more time there for years.

Keylan dropped his arms. “Look, Ms....Mrs.... whatever—”

“Mia is fine,” she offered.

“I’m not here to put on some show and get out of doing my community service. In fact, until about—” he checked the time on his Bulgari Diagono watch “—eight minutes ago, I was really looking forward to spending time here...with the kids.”

Mia dropped her arms and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Well, if you’re serious about putting in some real time here, we could always use a few extra reliable hands. I think our kids would love seeing you, too.”

“But clearly not you.” Keylan smirked.

“My personal feelings aren’t important. This is your family’s foundation...you can come and go as you please. Besides, you really don’t want to know what I think,” she murmured, turning to walk away.

“Oh, but I do,” he assured her.

Mia turned back to face Keylan and placed her fingertips in her pants’ pockets. “I wouldn’t want to insult my boss’s nephew right to his face.” She smirked.

“It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think? I’m a big boy—I can handle it.” Keylan leaned forward. “And I can keep a secret.” Keylan returned to his full height.

Mia smiled. “In my experience, Mr. Kingsley, men like you—”

Keylan tilted his head slightly to the right. “Men like me?” He ignored his buzzing cell phone.

“Yes, men too busy for their own good. Do you need to get that?” she said, gesturing toward his pocket with her head.

“No, please continue,” he insisted.

“Men that think the world revolves around them. Men that think they can simply smile, lie, buy or flirt their way out of doing the right thing. Men like that—” Mia mirrored his tilted head “—don’t care about anything or anyone but themselves, and they certainly don’t have time for a bunch of kids they don’t know whose families can’t afford to buy their child’s favorite sports player’s overpriced shoes that they had made overseas for three dollars.”

“Wow.” Keylan circled Mia, coming to stand behind her. He leaned forward, ignoring the sweet scent of vanilla radiating from her petite body and the rise and fall of her breasts making his crotch suddenly uncomfortable, and spoke softly. “Good thing I’m not one of those men.”

“We’ll see,” she said, taking a step forward and turning to face him. Keylan’s phone buzzed again. “You sure you don’t need to get that?”

Probably. However, I won’t give you the satisfaction. “No, I’m good. When and where do we start?”

“If you follow me to the office, we can go over the schedule.”

“After you.”

Mia turned and Keylan couldn’t help but admire her firm backside as his body reacted instantly. Calm down, boy...not just yet.

“Did you say something?” Mia asked and stopped, looking over her shoulders.

Did I say that out loud? “No, but what’s with the paint?”

Mia smirked. “We were painting one of the smaller rooms. It got...messy.”

“I guess you weren’t wearing those tennis shoes.”

“Nope, socks.” Mia started back toward her office.

“Wait. Why were you painting a room? I can’t believe my aunt wouldn’t hire someone to handle that for you.”

Mia laughed and the sound sent a strange feeling throughout his body. “It was more of a fun activity for the kids than a real painting job, but you’re right, your aunt wouldn’t have allowed such a thing to happen.”

“Now, that I can believe.” Keylan scanned the halls as they proceeded. “Some things never change.”

“Pardon me?”

“Thanksgiving was last week and this place is already decked out like Santa’s workshop, with Christmas still several weeks away. The Christmas tree at the front entrance is beautiful, by the way. I love all the kids’ ornaments on it.”

“Yes, the decorators were here first thing Friday morning.” Mia visibly forced a smile. “I’m just glad they used the stuff the kids made. They would have been very disappointed.”

* * *

Mia could feel Keylan’s eyes on her as they made their way down the quite long hall. She couldn’t understand how such an arrogant man, king of the playboys and known as an aggressive player on the basketball court, could have her body responding in a way it hadn’t in years. So what if he was tall, with a sun-kissed tan, and handsome beyond reason? Why had her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, and why had the sudden ache and weight of her breasts made Mia think she was wearing the wrong size bra?

It had been years since twenty-six-year-old Mia had been even remotely attracted to anyone. It wasn’t as if she didn’t like men; it was just that dating and sex wasn’t a priority of the mother to a four-year-old boy with Down syndrome. Mia hated the idea that it was Keylan that had awakened her dormant and sexually deprived body. To make things worse, she’d basically insulted her boss’s nephew to his face. Nice going, Mia.

Mia led Keylan into a midsize office several doors down from the gym. An oak desk with a salt finish sat on the right side of the room across from a large bay window that looked out over the playground. A dry-erase calendar on the wall behind Mia’s desk outlined the year-long activities that were in several different stages of planning.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Kingsley,” she said, taking a seat behind her desk.

The left wall of custom shelves was filled with a few personal photos and years of memorabilia from the many events and activities she’d conducted, along with awards she’d received during her tenure. “It’s Keylan, or KJ, if you prefer,” he said, admiring all the objects on her shelves. “How long have you worked for my family?”

“Almost five years,” she replied to his back, trying to ignore the way his perfectly cut suit draped his Greek-god-like physical form.

“I can’t believe we haven’t met before, especially since you’re the one who organized the annual three-on-three basketball tournaments, the charity bowling and the Holiday Toys for Tots drive. Those are our three biggest charity events.”

“I started right after you were drafted into the NBA. How do you know that I was the one who organized those events?” she asked, her forehead creased.

Keylan turned toward her, pointing at the awards she’d received from both the mayor of Houston and several city council members. “It says so right here.”

“Oh...yeah, well, I’m usually working the events, which means I’m too busy to enjoy them.” Mia shook her mouse to wake up her computer so she could check her emails. “If you can direct your attention to the whiteboard, we can see what we can do to get you the hours you need.”

Keylan folded his six-foot-five-inch frame and took a seat in one of the oval, white leather chairs in front of her desk. “Why weren’t you at last year’s toy drive event?”

“How do you know I wasn’t?”

“Because I was there and I would have remembered you.” He smiled, showing off a perfect set of white teeth. “Plus, my mother and aunt personally thanked everyone there for all their hard work. So...why weren’t you there?”

“I only have to organize the toy drive. I’m not required to work it. Plus, I had other plans. Besides, I’m not a big fan of all the pomp and circumstance the holiday brings.”

Keylan sat forward. “What? You don’t like all the decorations, the lights, the parties, all those presents? Or is it a religious thing for you?”

“I take it you do.”

“Of course.”

“No, it’s not a religious thing,” she replied, shaking her head. “I think celebrating Christmas is fine—it’s just not my favorite time of year,” she explained.

“There’s got to be a story there,” he concluded.

“There isn’t, and my assistant, Sandra, prefers to work that particular event.”

“You call me, boss lady?” Sandra asked as she entered the room wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt with the words Kingsley Foundation printed in large red letters across it. She came to a quick stop after catching sight of Keylan.

“No. But since you’re here...Sandra White, this is—”

“KJ. I know who he is,” she replied, flipping her sandy-blond hair off her shoulder. Sandra looked at Mia as though she had insulted her intelligence.

“Pleased to meet you,” Keylan said, standing and offering his hand.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Sandra accepted his hand, giving it a slow shake while smiling and batting her green eyes.

Mia’s phone rang as she stood, watching Sandra’s embarrassing display of amorous behavior.

“No worries, I’ll get the phone.” Mia rolled her eyes as she picked up the receiver. “Mia Ramirez.”

Sandra slowly withdrew her hand and smiled. “Can I get you anything, KJ? Coffee, tea, soda, my number?”

Keylan smiled. “Thanks, I’m fine.”

“Yes, you are,” Sandra offered, her smile widening.

“Sandra, Dr. Bissell’s assistant is on line one. Can you please take down the names of his guests for this weekend’s charity bowling tournament?”

“Sure. Nice meeting you, KJ,” she said, backing out of the office.

“Where were we?” Mia asked, not really expecting an answer.

“You were about to tell me why you don’t like Christmas.”

Mia frowned. “I never said I didn’t like Christmas, and we were about to review the schedule to see how we can accommodate your needs.”

A slow, sexy smile crawled across Keylan’s face and Mia quickly regretted the last words in her statement.

“I have a few ideas.”

“I bet you do,” she murmured.

Keylan pointed to the whiteboard. “I was referring to those two events.”

Mia prayed her face wasn’t as red as her nail polish. “Yes, of course. How many hours do you need?”

“Eighty.”

Mia reached for the tablet that sat on the edge of her desk but Keylan beat her to it. When his hand touched hers, their eyes collided and a shock of desire hit Mia like a runaway train. She slowly withdrew her hand and accepted the tablet. “Th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Mia cleared her throat. “So, you want to work the toy drive and the charity bowling tournament. If you work the whole time, for both of these events, you will earn sixteen hours.” She ran her fingers across the keys, making note of his request. “That leaves sixty-four hours that you’ll still need to earn.”

“I realize that, which is why I’d like to earn the rest of those hours working here.”

“Here.” Mia waved her hand in the air.

“Yes, here. It is my family’s foundation, remember. I’m thinking—” Keylan rubbed his hands together “—twenty hours a week.”

“Twenty...a week...here? Doing what exactly?” Other than making me crazy.

Keylan turned in his chair and looked at the whiteboard. “I was thinking I’d help out with the kids’ round-up.” He turned back to Mia and smiled.

“The kids’ round-up? Do you have any idea what that is...what’s required?”

Keylan sighed. “Believe it or not, I used to spend a lot of time here. Unless things have changed, this is helping with just about every activity you can think of with the kids. Helping with homework, story time for the little ones, sports—you name it.”

“No, nothing’s changed, that’s it. And how do you plan to make such a commitment with your busy professional and personal schedule?” No, you didn’t just say that out loud, Mia.

Keylan’s left eyebrow quirked and he smirked. “Why don’t you let me worry about my schedule?”

“Fine. When would you like to get started?”

“Well, according to the schedule, you have a group of kids about to have a basketball game in twenty minutes.”

“Those are the kids in our after-school Latch Key program. Coach Wanda and her kids would love having a NBA star in their midst.”

“Great.” Keylan raised his right hand and used his thumb to point behind him. “I’ll just go get changed.”

Mia checked her watch. “Will you be able to get back in time? It’s important to stay on schedule with these kids.”

Keylan frowned. “Where am I going?”

“You’ll want to go change.”

“The last time I checked, the locker rooms were on the other side of the gym,” he said, smiling. “I keep a change of clothes in my car.”

Mia smirked. “I bet you do.”

Keylan scratched his chin with his left thumb. “You’re determined to think the worst of me, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “Between my rehab and ever-changing practice schedule, I have to stay prepared.”

“Oh...” Nice going, Mia.

Keylan stood. “Should I go change?”

“Please.” Mia rose from her chair. “I know Coach Wanda will appreciate the help and I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”

“I’m not sure you really believe that but I guess we’ll see,” he said, heading out of the office.

Yes, we will.