day. Her job gave her the greatest joy, as she helped her clients find the perfect gifts for their loved ones, employees and friends. But making kids and old people happy—that was a different level of giving.
Her phone rang. “Accept call,” she said.
“Hello?” Bebe said. Her trusty partner’s British accent came through loud and clear. Ainsley wasn’t sure what she’d do without her best friend—the woman was a master scheduler and kept their finances in order. She also wasn’t afraid to talk to a client about a bill, which was something that made Ainsley really uncomfortable. Talking about money always did. Bebe had started as an assistant, but had quickly become her partner in crime.
“Are you there?”
“I’m here,” she said as she left the parking lot, her mind still on the Marine. “And, yes, I know I’m running late. I got caught up doing some charity work. I’ll drop Bob’s presents off for you to wrap, and then I’ll head out to Clinical South.” The head administrator wanted to discuss gifts for the staff, and for any of the patients who would be stuck in the facility over the holidays.
This really was their busiest time of year and she’d spent too much of her packed schedule helping the hot guy.
“That’s why I’m calling. They actually pushed you to tomorrow. I’ve been trying to call for the last hour. Did you leave your phone in the car again?”
No. She’d been distracted by the glorious man in uniform.
“I didn’t hear it ring.”
“I swear I’m going to put ‘The Imperial March’ on your phone so you hear when I call. Anyway, Craig Price at CIM wants to meet with you about gifts for his staff. He had a four o’clock open. Can I tell them you’ll be there?”
She sighed. Craig was an ex. One of the several narcissists she’d dated, though he hadn’t been as bad as some of the others. He was married to his job, though, and when he thought it was okay to go six months between calling for dates, they parted ways. But his technology company, CIM, had over four hundred employees—that was a pretty tidy commission for her company.
But Craig. Ugh.
“I know he’s a prat, but that commission pays the mortgage for a year. I’d go, but I’m meeting with the Funky Monkey folks at three. They have a bunch of new merchandise they’re bringing by.”
“I wish we could switch,” she said. She loved the boutique called Funky Monkey more than just about any other. The owner, Amy, was one of the most creative people she’d ever met.
“I promise to nab something shiny for you. Craig specifically asked for you. Maybe he wants to apologize for being such a fool. And hello, we promised ourselves a Christmas bonus this year if we made our goals, and we’re so very close.”
She had a point. And this was business. In the two years she’d been operating, she’d had to handle much worse. Some of her wealthiest clients, a few of whom were her parents’ friends, felt entitled and had to be treated that way. Even after she’d grown up around that sort of wealth, their attitudes chewed at her gut. But she wasn’t dumb. The client was always right. Even if they were jerks sometimes. Well, as long as they paid their bills.
“Yep. You’re right. Yes, I can do four. Do you have suggestions? Did they give you a budget?”
“Yes, on both counts. His assistant gave me the rundown on what type of gifts and how much they wanted to spend for each level from the board on down.”
Ainsley did love it when they were organized. “Okay, good. That makes our job easier. Can you print out the ideas and put a book together for me?”
They did most of their presentations on a laptop or tablet, but clients liked to have something they could hold in their hands and peruse. It was a trick she’d learned early on. Folks tended to buy more when they could feel the pages. Weird, but true.
“Already working on it.”
“And that, my friend, is why I love you best.”
“Yes, luv, remember that when it’s time for my raise.” Ainsley smiled. Bebe could give herself a raise whenever she wanted, although they would discuss it first, as they did everything.
“Yes, ma’am. Okay, so I’ll see you in a bit.”
That’s what she needed—a reminder of what was most important. Her work. This was their most important time of the year. The last thing she wanted to deal with was a distraction.
Especially a hot Marine.
She took another deep breath.
A very hot, sexy Marine.
THE HIGH SCHOOL cafeteria buzzed with activity. And it was loud. Really loud. Ben wasn’t a huge fan of big crowds or noise, but this was for a good cause. There were booths with everything from wooden toys to homemade candles to miniature Christmas trees. He’d never seen anything like it.
“Explain to me again why we’re here and not watching the game? It’s almost the end of football season,” Matt complained.
“I bought the toys, you guys have to help me haul them in to get them wrapped.” It would have taken him thirty trips from the car and back without his friends.
He searched the throng of people for the pretty blonde, but he didn’t see her. Dang if he hadn’t thought about her all night.
Jake grinned and tightened his grip on the bags he was carrying. It was as if his buddy could read his thoughts.
Mari, Brody’s wife and mother of his child, bustled up next to him.
“I think it’s sweet that you’re doing this,” Mari said to Ben. “You’re helping the Toys for Tots program and the fund-raiser for the drill team. You’re my hero.”
Brody cleared his throat. “I thought I was your hero.”
“Oh, honey, always. Always.” She kissed him, and Ben had to look away. Sometimes their intimacy bothered him. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he’d never been that close to another person. He’d dated a lot of women, but none that made him feel the way that Brody talked about his wife. And his friend Matt was a goner, as well, with his fiancée, Chelly. His buddies were so wrapped up in their women, and Ben just didn’t get it.
He was attracted to the women he dated, but his interest waned after a short while. The guys on the base where he taught helicopter maintenance classes, tested the machines and helped out with training missions called him Casanova because he had a different girl every week.
There was one woman he definitely wanted to spend time with, but he had a feeling she was far beyond his reach.
It took a few minutes but they finally found the booth set up for gift wrapping. It was staffed by a bunch of young girls, with ponytails, in stretch pants and T-shirts that read Dance with Me.
“You want us to wrap how many?” one of the young girls asked. She had her hair
