A Splash of Christmas (2 page)

“All work and no play can make a girl grumpy.” Avery slipped her cellphone back into the purse slung over one shoulder. “You, my friend, are living proof.”

“I'm sorry.” Faith reached for a list of potential donors for the party. Time was wasting and she had so much to do. Surely, Avery would understand. “But I have this Christmas party to plan. The kids—”

“I know…they're counting on you.” Avery crossed the room and propped one hip on the corner of the desk. “Everyone is always counting on you, Faith, because you are steady as the thrum of April showers.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing.”

“It's not a bad thing, but sometimes you have to let loose…let go. The work will still be here, waiting on you when you return.”

“That's exactly my point.”

“Stubborn…analytical…” Avery shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “Sheesh…you're nearly impossible to bargain with, but I'll give it one more shot. I'll tell you what…you come and support me at this audition, and I'll help you the rest of the afternoon—and tomorrow, too, since it's my day off from the restaurant—to plan this holiday shindig for the kids. Plus, if I win Ben Ward over to my side, you can pencil me into your donor's list with a cool thousand dollars—that's a ten percent tithe by my estimation…the going rate, right?”

“That's right. But—”

“Nope…” Avery held up a hand traffic cop style as she shook her head. “No but's to be had here, Faith. Just tell me…how does my compromise sound?”

“It sounds doable.” Faith dropped the pen onto the blotter and smoothed her hands down the front of her skirt as she stood. Her feet wailed in pain as she found her balance, but she ignored the pinched cries of her polished toes. “But I'm not getting within ten feet of Ben Ward—or any of his brothers.”

“You can't hold a grudge forever, Faith.”

“Watch me.” Faith nodded fiercely. “Ben promised to be the keynote speaker at our Mountain Light Spring Kickoff fundraiser this past March and then backed out just as tickets were going on sale. We—I mean,
I
—was left holding the bag because I couldn't find a replacement on such short notice. I'd only been employed here a few months, and I was placed on probation when the dinner tanked and funding took an anemic nosedive. As a matter of fact, I'm
still
on probation, and it's a miracle I didn't lose my job. I'm not fond of sitting in the hot seat because someone else dropped the ball and, let me tell you, this seat is growing hotter by the moment.”

Avery pinched a strand of spiky black hair between two fingers. Her lips, outlined in a shade of red that might be used to perform a transfusion, pursed into a round little
oh
. On anyone else, the combination of colors might seem gaudy. But somehow, Avery managed to make the look work. She'd always been the bold one of the pair, outgoing and adventurous and oftentimes outspoken to a fault while Faith tended to be more selective with the thoughts she shared…more cautious and reserved. Through the years, their opposite personalities proved to forge a bond that, despite their differences, mirrored the strength of titanium. “I'm sure there was a good reason for the last-minute bailout, Faith. Give the guy a break.”

“Even if there
is
, by some stretch of the imagination, a valid reason, Ben Ward didn't bother to share it with me. Obviously, the fame and wealth of his family's wildly successful business has gone straight to his head…completely bypassing that steel-clad heart of his.” Faith leaned in to blow out the flickering candle. Even the cheerful scent of pine failed to chase away the chill that had suddenly swept into her heart. “I'll attend today's audition with you as I promised, Ave, and I truly hope you earn the chance to share an episode in his family's crazy quest to find a ready-made companion”—Faith emphasized with air quotes—“for Ben Ward. But allow me to make one thing perfectly clear—I will never, ever forgive that heartless, uncompassionate, excuse for a man for letting me—as well as the kids who live here at Mountain Light Children's Home—down.”

 

 

 

 

2

 

Ben Ward paced the small office at the rear of the conference center as his pulse lurched into a speed that would rival the pole car at Bristol. How in the world had he ever allowed himself to be roped into this outlandish attempt to solicit an increase in ratings for his family's Poolside Oasis show on the Home Living Channel?

Harry Linkus, the producer of Poolside Oasis, strode into the room. “We start auditions in five, Ben. Are you ready for this little adventure?”

“Little?” The single-word answer was no more than a growl. There was nothing little about this impending fiasco. He'd rather tread across fiery coals in bare feet. “No, I'm not ready and there's nothing little—or adventuresome—about this. It's downright crazy, and I just want to go home—or back to work. I've got a slew of projects heaped onto my plate.”

“This
is
work—and the most important project at the moment.” Samuel, Ben's older brother, chimed in from the corner where he reclined in a chair, one foot propped over the opposite knee as if he hadn't instigated this entire misadventure. “You'll have to excuse my brother, Harry. He was up way too late last night, prowling the halls of his lonely house while he fed on the mistakes of his past.”

“That's taking it too far, Sam, and the mistakes weren't mine to make.” Maybe they were, though. He'd trusted too much, and it had cost him more than dollar signs. It had cost him a piece of his heart that he had yet to recover. He had his doubts he ever would.

“Whatever.” Samuel flicked his hand over fabric, as if brushing a pest from his shirt front. “He's just a little grumpy, but that ought to change in a hurry when he meets Miss Right today.”

“You all are out of your gourds.” Ben interjected. “I am
not
going to meet Miss Right today because there is no Miss Right out there—at least not for me. The past is firm proof of that.”

“Such a naysayer, all doom and gloom.” Colby, the youngest Ward brother, laughed as he tossed a grape from the food and beverage table Harry had ordered for this shindig into the air and caught it neatly in his mouth. “You might find your other half—the half God has planned for you to share your life with—if you'd simply give things a chance again. The past has made you cautious to a fault, Ben…all vinegar and no honey. And the women…well, I can personally attest that they like honey better than vinegar.”

That stung, considering Colby was a solid three years younger than Ben and had been happily married to Trisha—with a kid on the way now—for going on another three. Samuel, on the other hand, had two years on Ben, with a pair of his own kids. Sam and Mandy would celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary come September.

Ben, at thirty-one, was the lone hold-out of the trio of Ward brothers. He had yet to meet his match. He thought he had…for a glimmer in time. But that had shattered to pieces last winter when Ellie Sager sold him out for a headliner tabloid article, full of trumped-up fluff devoid of even the slightest glimmer of truth.

Yes, the words had sliced through Ben, leaving gaping wounds that failed to heal. Now, he stood determined to enjoy his freedom and the benefits of coming and going as he pleased. He had things to take care of…things that left no time for pursuing women. Besides, no woman would rein him in and make a mockery of his trust—not now or ever—if he had any say at all in it.

Which, apparently he didn't. Hence the premise for this so-called audition today—to find a woman to act as Ben's better half for the filming of the Poolside Oasis Christmas episode. Ellie had been slated to stand at his side for the filming, but her escapades had severed their relationship like a knife slicing through kite string. Ben thought that was the end of filming, except Samuel and Colby refused to settle for what was meant to be merely a ploy to enhance the show's ratings. The brothers continued to insist that today's audition would serve to reveal to Ben the woman who God meant to be
The One
for him.

“Get back on the horse, Ben, and let God take the reins this time,” Samuel had chided. “He'll lead you down the path that's meant for you.”

Well, Ben was having none of that nonsense. No one—not even God—would dare to touch those reins except for
him
. And he planned to remain in the barn—alone.

“Settle down, son.” Ben's mother, Valerie, murmured from the doorway as she peeked through the small slice of door glass, out at the crowd of women gathered and seated along the length of hallway. One by one, each woman would be invited into the room to recite the script—a short series of lines—they'd been handed by Harry's assistant as they entered the venue. If all went as planned, one woman would earn the chance to stand in at Ben's side during next month's filming of the Christmas episode. “You're like a panther waiting to pounce. You'll frighten the women away.”

“Good. I'm having second—no, third and fourth—thoughts about what we're doing here today. It's crazy, Mom.”

“Anything truly worth doing usually
is
just a little bit crazy.”

Harry strode toward the door, yanked it open and then quickly turned back to them. “Gather yourselves. It's show time. I'm sending the first woman in.”

“Wait. Just give me a minute here.” Ben's pulse raced as he backpedaled from the doorway. “Like I said, I just want to get back to work. Mrs. Jendovani ordered a kidney-shaped twenty by thirty-eight, with all the bells and whistles. I promised we'd break ground late next week, so I have to iron out the details, check on the ordered materials, and get equipment ready before filming begins—”

“It will all get done,” Samuel interrupted, crossing the room to clap Ben on the back. “It's only Tuesday, so this week still has plenty of daylight. Tomorrow will be soon enough to play in the dirt.”

“It's not playing.” Though Ben knew Samuel was goading him in order to take his mind off the outlandish task at hand, he couldn't help but snatch the bait. “It's work—important work.”

“I know. I've spent my fair share of time at the back hoe controls.” Samuel grinned. “Besides, Mrs. Jendovani has agreed to let us use her project in the filming of our Christmas episode. We can't break ground until everything's ready to go for that, which means you have to get into the spirit here, Ben.”

“The spirit?”

“The Christmas spirit,” Colby chimed in. “After all, this is slated to be our holiday episode. Do I need to scrounge up a little Bing Crosby to pipe into the sound system?”

“No.” Ben snatched a can of soda from the snack table, popped the tab, and drew a long swig before swiping his palm across his mouth. “I'm thinking more of the Grinch. I hate putting Mrs. Jendovani off like that.”

“She's good with it, Ben. No worries there. The paperwork is signed and sealed.” Samuel snatched a wedge of cheddar cheese from the serving platter. “The only hold-up here is
you
, so shelve that stubborn attitude of yours.”

Ben drew one more long swig of soda before crushing the can in his fist and tossing it into the trashcan. “I'm not stubborn.”

“See what I mean?” Samuel chuckled. “Now, all we have to do is find the right lady to tame that ornery attitude of yours…”

“No one's going to tame me. And, for the record, I can find my own lady.”

Samuel's dark gaze rose to challenge as his jaw set in a tight line that said he'd reached the end of his patience. “Prove it.”

Something snapped deep inside Ben as a pair of women strode through the door. Heels clicked along with a flurry of nervous chatter as they crossed to the staging area. One stood tall with a shock of raven-black hair and lips slashed the color of a crime scene. The second, a petite stick of dynamite compared to her taller friend, paused with hands clenched tight, her hair an inferno of dancing flames that spilled down the length of her back. She seemed to be in a state of extreme discomfort as she wobbled on sandals with stilts for heels that looked anything but manageable.

Ben's memory nudged. Something about the flaming-haired beauty seemed vaguely familiar. Was it the voice that danced his way, the mass of hair…or the glint in her eye that seemed to accuse him as her gaze connected with his? Accuse him of what, Ben had no earthly idea. He hadn't done anything to offend her, had he?

“Step this way, my dears.” Ben's mom welcomed the pair of women as she strode their way. “I thought we were going to do this single-file, but Harry must be attempting to expedite the process. Do you each have a script?”

“Oh, there must be some mistake.” The redhead took one unsteady step forward as she spoke up. “I'm just here to—”

Ben tuned out the mindless chatter as his hand lashed out to keep her from stumbling into the camera. Her hair was a mass of soft flames that skimmed ivory cheeks and danced over her shoulders. Her skirt, long enough to cover all but sculpted ankles, still managed to induce a double-take. The heels of her sandals could only be described as ridiculous…and—heaven help him—sexy. Ben lifted his gaze, skimming over her until, as if drawn by a magnetic force-field, his eyes locked with hers.

Sassy…that's the first word that came to mind. Her glossed lips begged to be kissed. After all, she'd come here to see him…to be a party to this
audition
. Well, he'd see to it that she got the audition of her life.

Mindless of the crowd, he took her by the elbows. Drawing her close, Ben's pulse galloped as he dipped his head toward hers. Reins…where were the reins? The light scent of citrus mingled with sweet pine and though his brain cried out with a resounding
whoa,
his heart clamored blindly into the great abyss. One hand slipped to the nape of her neck and as his palm fisted in the warmth of her curls, Ben fully expected to come away scorched.