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The Return of Antonides: Christmas at the Castello(22)

By:Anne McAllister

           



       

Not really. But if a doorbell could sound determined, this one did.

Holly sighed and muttered under her breath. There was only one person  who rang her doorbell with that singular determination-Deb from across  the hall, wanting to borrow a cup of sugar, a teaspoon of horseradish, a  bag of mixed greens.

Holly was Deb's go-to alternative to the grocery store when she couldn't be bothered. And she didn't give up.

The bell went again-even longer and more persistent than the last time.  Clearly, Deb wasn't going away. Instead, she was leaning on the bell.

Holly sighed and extricated herself from the depths of the closet and,  irritation building, pasted on a long-suffering smile as she stalked to  the door and jerked it open.

"What now? I've packed-" Her voice died.

It wasn't Deb. It was Lukas.

Clad in faded jeans and a pale blue button-down shirt, his jaw freshly  shaved and a lock of sun-tipped hair drifting over his forehead, Lukas  Antonides looked crisp and casual, and as drop-dead gorgeous as a Greek  god.

Holly looked-and felt-like a warmed-over stew of irritation and  exhaustion. "I told you I couldn't go out. Don't tell me you didn't get  the message."

"I got your message."

And didn't pay any attention, apparently, because he walked straight past her into the chaos that was her living room.

Holly didn't have the strength to deal with him and the rest of her life. "Lukas! I said no. I have work to do!"

"Yeah. You're moving. In August, you said."

"Tuesday."

"What?" He stared at her.

"I sold the condo. And I have to be out by Tuesday."

Now Lukas's brows really did shoot up. "Tuesday? As in three days-" she  could see him doing a quick mental calculation "-three days from now?"

"Not even." Holly glanced at her watch. "Sixty-one hours and thirty-two minutes from now. That's when we close."

"That's crazy. Doesn't make sense. No one does that."

"Fraser Holcomb does."

"Fraser Holcomb? The Fraser Holcomb?" So Lukas had heard of the hotshot  young film director. Holly hadn't. She wasn't a big film buff.

"The very one." She followed Lukas back into the living room where  stacks of too much stuff and too few boxes covered every surface. "I  told you some location scout came and looked at the place."

Lukas waved a hand in the direction of Manhattan. "He liked what he saw?"

"Seems he did." Which was something of an understatement. Amber the  Realtor had called her Friday afternoon and squealed, "He loved it! He  thinks it's perfect!"

Holly hadn't believed her. It was too preposterous. It still felt  preposterous even though she now had it in writing. "He made a cash  offer yesterday morning. I told Amber I didn't have anyplace to go. She  told him, and he said, 'She can rent a place until August for a hundred  thousand dollars, can't she?'" She swallowed. "He offered me an extra  hundred grand above the asking price for immediate occupancy."

Lukas whistled silently.

Holly let out a ragged breath. "I said yes. Amber would have killed me  if I hadn't. And it really was too good to pass up," she admitted. "But  now I'm panicking. I need to get packed up. Find a storage facility."  She shook her head. "So I really can't..."

Lukas looked around for just a moment, taking it all in, then looked back at her. "Where do you want me to start?"

Holly goggled at him. "What? No! You don't have to do anything! I was just trying to explain why I can't-"

"I understand, but it's obvious you can't do this all yourself. You  were trying to do it all yourself, weren't you?" His gaze was mildly  accusing.

"It's my condo. My life."

"And since Matt died you don't count on anyone."

She flinched at his perception. "That's right," she said stubbornly.

"How's that working for you?" He said it gently, making Holly sigh in recognition of how badly it was working.

"I should hire a mover."

"No. You've got me."

The mulish look on his face said arguing was going to get her nowhere,  and that she would be wasting precious time trying to change his mind.  She shrugged. "Fine. Start boxing." She pointed toward the piles of  stuff she'd hauled out of the closet, then she realized the flaw in the  plan. "I don't have enough boxes."

"I do."                       
       
           



       

She frowned. "You?"

But he was digging his cell phone out of his pocket as he spoke. "Who  just moved in?" he reminded her. "And we've got all that art we've just  uncrated."

"Oh!" She actually felt a stab of relief. "Yes, of course."

He started punching in a number, then stopped to look at her. "Do you have an apartment to go to?"

"I'll go out to my mom's. I just need to get hold of her and tell her.  She's not in the country now. She's in Scotland on a tour. I've been  trying to reach her." Unsuccessfully, as it happened. She hadn't really  planned to move in on her mother so early. A week, she'd thought. Maybe  two right before she left. She hadn't planned on six weeks. "If I can't  get hold of my mom, I can find a suite at the Plaza." She put all the  bravado she could muster into her grin.

"And your stuff?" Lukas tilted his head.

She sucked in a breath. "A storage unit. I've called a few places."

"Are you wedded to the storage unit idea?"

"Why?"

"You could store your stuff at my place."

She shook her head. "No, I couldn't. I don't want to take advantage! I-"

"I suppose you could say no," Lukas said mildly. "Pay through the nose  for some little storage unit where your stuff will bake all summer and  freeze all winter."

"And of course it wouldn't at your place." Holly knew when she was being led down the primrose path.

"It wouldn't. I heat my building in winter, I air-condition in summer." He smiled.

Feeling virtual rope tightening around her ankles, Holly waited for him  to go in for the kill. But he didn't say another word. He just waited,  letting her stew. Letting her realize she was being foolish by saying no  to his suggestion.

"I'm paying you," she said at last, feeling ungracious and guilty at  the same time she felt a prickle of relief knowing that she wouldn't  have to just take the first place she found without doing her  homework-homework she'd intended to do and now didn't have time for.

"If you want." Lukas shrugged, but he didn't argue with her. "I thought I might pay you," he added after a moment.

Holly glanced at him sharply. "What on earth for?"

"Being my gallery manager until I can hire a full-time permanent one."

She stared, astonished. "Your...gallery manager? Don't be ridiculous. I don't know anything about managing a gallery."

"You can manage a classroom of sixth graders," he said as if that was  all it required. "And you always kept a handle on Matt and me. Kept us  focused. Kept me focused," he amended with a twist of his lips. "Matt  was always focused."

"Not always," Holly murmured. He was perpetually being led astray by  Lukas's next scheme or great idea. But she didn't say that. "You don't  want me to manage your gallery," she said firmly. "You're just being  kind."

Lukas looked genuinely astonished. "When have you ever known me to be kind?"

There was a sudden silence. Holly's instinct was to say she hadn't. But  that wasn't entirely true. That night on his dad's sailboat, to her way  of thinking, he had not been kind at all, but the day after, she had  expected him to tell Matt what had happened-and he hadn't.

Instead, he had walked out of their lives.

"You can be," she allowed.

"Well, I'm not now. I'm looking out for my own interests, believe me. I  need a gallery manager. Jenn isn't coming. And the chances of me  finding someone like her are not great. It's going to take a while. I  don't want to grab someone off the street."

"Like me," Holly pointed out.

"I want to take my time and do it right," Lukas went on just as if she  hadn't said a word. "So I'm asking you to do it until you leave. Six  weeks max. Long enough to give me a chance to gather a reasonable pool  of candidates and find the right one-and in the meantime you have a  place to stay. I showed you the apartment I'd finished for the manager,"  he reminded her. "You're welcome to it. Part of the pay. You can store  your stuff there all the time you're gone. I've got a lot of space. And I  know you can do the bare essentials that need to be done."

"What bare essentials?"

"People skills mostly. You've got 'em. I've seen you with people. You  charm them. You calm them. You make them do the right thing. You made me  do the right thing."