a long time ago and that you’re just so bitter that you wanted to ruin Christmas for everyone?”
He winced and snapped his teeth together as she gave him a thorough tongue-lashing. When she quieted down, Duke felt guiltier than ever. Pablo had said she’d been the first to call and complain. How soon he’d forgotten, after being lost in her beauty.
“Oh...” He scratched at the back of his head, still at a loss for words.
A few people within earshot overheard and were snickering, championing Macy.
“I’m real sorry about that. Maybe I can talk to her...”
“Him.” She corrected him quickly.
Duke nodded. “I’m very sorry. Can I do anything to fix this situation?”
Once again Macy shook her head from side to side. “I highly doubt it.”
“Can I at least take you to dinner sometime? Maybe take your son out for a tour of the studio?”
Macy sighed irritably. He could see that she wasn’t a person to make angry. If her eyes could literally shoot daggers, he’d be dead right now. “There is nothing you can say or do. What’s done is done, Mr. Rodriguez.”
“Duke,” he corrected her.
“What?” Macy pulled her neck back in confusion.
“My first name, it’s Duke. My friends call me Duke.”
“You are such an athle-tante.”
“A what?” Duke laughed.
“It means you’re like one of those celebrity athletes who think you can say and do whatever you like you’re some society debutante.” Rolling her eyes, she choked out a haughty laugh, then shook her head no. “I’m not interested. So you have a nice evening, Mr. Rodriguez.”
Dumbfounded, Duke stood there and watched her disappear around the corner into the kitchen. If she went through the swinging doors without looking back, then he knew he didn’t have a shot at her. His heart slammed against his ribs, a strange reaction he’d never felt before from just meeting a woman for the first time, because when she reached the door, she pushed one side open, stopped and cast a glance over her shoulder, directly at him.
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
