This Holiday Magic Page 3

  “Janelle...”

  “Where is my father?” she asked. Her eyes narrowed in mistrust as she planted her balled fists on her hips.

  “He’s unavailable.”

  “You’re starting to sound like a broken record. Where is he?” she repeated.

  “He’s getting coffee in the break room.”

  She looked around her father’s office. It was usually neat, but now there were half-open boxes, files and paper everywhere. It was a cluttered mess. “What’s going on with my father’s company? Is this your next acquisition?”

  He looked hurt. “Do you seriously think that little of me?”

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I guess I deserved that.” The raw, intense hunger she saw in his eyes made her take a step back. Her stomach shuddered. She swallowed hard, needing to regroup quickly. “Janelle...”

  “You need to leave.”

  “I can’t. I promised your father I’d do what I could to help him, and I will.”

  “He doesn’t need your help anymore. He has me now.”

  “Yes, he does. But you can’t help him with this.”

  “Tyson, leave now or I’ll call security and have you physically thrown out of here—your choice.”

  “Janelle, this isn’t about you and me. This is about your father, his company and his freedom.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll have to ask him.”

  “I’m asking you. Tell me.”

  “He needs my help and I promised him I’d do whatever I can. Your father is a brilliant businessman, but sometimes solely focusing on winning at all costs causes you to lose everything in the end.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked. He didn’t reply. “You’re not going to tell me? Fine.” She marched over to the desk, reached around him and grabbed the office phone from the cradle. Before she could lift it, Tyson quickly covered her hand with his to stop her.

  Just inches apart, their eyes locked. Intense emotions slammed into her like an anvil falling at high velocity. Her heart thudded in her chest as she held her breath. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling anything, but yet she was. She was over him and he wasn’t going to get to her again. “Save it. I’m immune. Your bad-boy charm doesn’t work on me anymore.”

  “Doesn’t it?” he asked quietly.

  She glared at him, holding her ground. They both knew he was lethal to any woman. But she wasn’t going to back down. “Move your hand now, Tyson,” she warned through gritted teeth.

  “I left for a reason.”

  “I don’t really care about your reason.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Understand this, Mr. Croft. You don’t know me anymore. You knew that quiet, shy, young woman right out of medical school more than two years ago. She wore rose-colored glasses and thought there’d always be a happy ending in her life, no matter what. Well, she was wrong and she’s long gone.”

  “I hope not. I missed her. I missed you,” he whispered gently.

  Janelle’s heart lurched. His voice was too tender and his eyes were too sincere. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

  He looked away and gently squeezed her hand. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you, because I can’t stop wanting you and because I can’t stop loving...”

  “Stop! Enough! I don’t want to hear it.” She raised her voice.

  “Janelle, is that you?”

  Janelle turned around quickly to see her father standing in the doorway, holding two coffee cups. A radiant smile instantly spread across her face. She snatched her hand away from the phone and ran over to him.

  Setting down the cups, he met her halfway and they embraced long and hard. Moments later he pulled back and gently held her face in his hands. He stared closely, then nodded. “Yes, you’re okay?”

  She smiled and nodded as tears rolled down her face. “Yes, I am now.”

  “God, I missed you,” Ben said.

  She laughed, half crying for joy. “I missed you, too, Dad.”

  Janelle and Ben hugged again, and then he held her close as he turned to Tyson, smiling. “My little girl’s back.”

  Tyson grinned. “Yes, she certainly is. I’m gonna fax these letters out. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Dad, you look so tired.”

  Ben eyed his daughter happily. “Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about you. When did you get here?”

  “Just now,” she said.

  “No. I mean when did you get back from Africa?”

  “About three hours ago. I was stuck in Customs for a while. It feels like I’ve been on the road forever. I left Dar es Salaam over twenty-five hours ago.”

  “What? It doesn’t take that long to get here from Tanzania.”

  “I know, but I grabbed the first flight, and unfortunately, the last-minute plans made travel a nightmare.”

  “Well, you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

  “Dad, tell me what’s going on. Why, of all people, is Tyson Croft here in your office? He said he was working with you.”

  “It’s nothing for you to be concerned about, sweetheart. He’s working a few things out for me.... Just some minor business matters.”

  “Dad, you know Tyson can’t be trusted. You know what he does for a living. The man gobbles up businesses and breaks them apart and sells them to the highest bidder. There’s no way he’s here to help you.”

  “I am,” Tyson said, standing in the office doorway.

  Janelle turned and glared at him.

  “Janelle, you’re going to have to trust me on this. He is here to help. I know you and Tyson have a strained past and, from the sound of it when I walked into the office earlier, a questionable present, but I’m going to need for you to put all that aside, at least for the time being. I need Tyson, I need you and I need a truce,” Ben said.

  She looked away, refusing to answer.

  “So—” he began, smiling again “—not that I’m not delighted to see you, but what are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to come back until next year. What happened?”

  “I’m fine. My relief arrived early, so I decided to surprise you and come home for the Christmas holidays. I guess the surprise was on me since I went to my house and found my neighbor Mrs. Ivers there with a little girl. She told me it was your idea for the child’s family to move in.”

  “Yes, it was my idea. I needed them here quickly and they needed a place to stay. Your house was empty and it was perfect.”

  “I don’t understand. Admittedly, the little girl is absolutely adorable, but why was it so important for her family to live in my house? Who’s her family?”

  “I’m her family. Aneka is my daughter,” Tyson said.

  His pronouncement stunned her. Tyson had a daughter? She had had no idea. Her heart tumbled. The math wasn’t that difficult to figure out. The girl had to be at least four years old. That meant that Tyson had been a father the whole time they were together and he’d never said a word.

  Suddenly it all made sense. The months of romantic bliss they had spent together had just been a momentary interlude for him. The reason he’d left her was to go back to his real family. “Your daughter? You have a child,” she said incredulously.

  “Ben,” he said, “I’m almost done here. We just have a few more things to tie up. I can move us to a hotel for a few days and...”

  “It’s the holidays,” Ben protested. “I’m sure Janelle wouldn’t want you and your daughter out in the street this time of year. Janelle, what do you think about coming home and staying at the big house with your dear old dad for a few days? It’ll be good to have my daughter back under the roof again, at least for a
little while. And I could certainly use the company. The house gets awfully quiet sometimes. What do you think?”

  Both Tyson and Ben looked at Janelle. But she couldn’t focus on her dad. She was still stuck on the fact that Tyson had been a father the whole time they’d been together. It took her a moment to catch up with what was going on around her. “Um, yeah, sure, that’s fine. Stay at the house with your daughter...your family,” she said awkwardly.

  “Thank you,” Tyson said.

  “Good. That’s all settled,” Ben declared. “Tyson, why don’t we call it a night and pick this up tomorrow evening?” Tyson nodded his agreement and walked over to Ben’s desk. “Janelle, give me a few minutes to get some things put away and then we’ll head out.”

  “I just have to go by my house and pick up my suitcases. I left them in the foyer. Also, I borrowed Mrs. Ivers’s car, so I’m going to need a ride to the big house.”

  “I’ll take you.” Tyson spoke up quickly.

  “No,” Janelle said just as fast. “No, that’s okay.”

  “She’s right, Tyson. It’s late. I’m sure Mrs. Ivers needs to get home and your daughter needs you there now.” He turned to Janelle. “I’ll meet you at your house when I finish up here. It shouldn’t be too long.” He kissed Janelle’s forehead.

  Janelle nodded and walked out. Tyson grabbed his briefcase and followed. They shared the elevator down to the first floor and exited the building together. Each got into their respective cars and drove away in the same direction without a single word.

  So much for a holiday at home, she thought to herself as she drove off.

  Chapter 4

  Twenty minutes later they arrived at her town house. In silence side by side, Janelle and Tyson walked up the short path to the front door. As soon as they got to the top step they stopped. Standing beneath the security lights over the door, each had a front-door key in hand. “You go ahead,” she said, motioning for him to step up and open the front door.

  “No,” he said, stepping back. “Please, it’s your home. After you.” She put her key in the lock and turned the latch. “Are we just going to ignore this and pretend?” he asked.

  “I’m tired, Tyson. I don’t feel like playing games tonight.”

  “This isn’t a game, Janelle,” he assured her.

  “Fine, let’s pretend. How about we play a game called ‘truth or truth’?”

  He sighed. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” His eyes sparkled beneath the lights.

  “I can’t believe you. One day you were there, we were talking about getting married and starting a life together, and all of a sudden the next day you were gone.”

  He was stunned by her comment. “Janelle, my leaving had nothing to do with what I feel for you. It was about me. I needed time. I needed to go. But when I came back you were gone.”

  She scoffed. “What a surprise, and so convenient. At least be original. Isn’t that always the go-to excuse? ‘Oh, no, baby,’” she mocked, “‘it’s not you. It’s me. It’s not that I’m through with you now, or that I was just using you to kill time. I’m just leaving you to go back to my real family now.’”

  “Is that what you think? That I had another family someplace else? That I left you because I was through with you?”

  “Are you going to seriously stand there and tell me I’m wrong with your daughter and probably your wife waiting inside?” She stopped suddenly. The thought of coming face-to-face with Tyson’s wife sent a stunned shock wave through her system.

  An instant later the door opened. Janelle held her breath. Mrs. Ivers stood there, smiling at them. “I thought I heard voices. Why are you two standing out here in the cold? Come on inside.”

  “Good evening, Mrs. Ivers,” Tyson said.

  “Hi, Mrs. Ivers. Thank you so much for loaning me your car.”

  “Hello, Tyson. Janelle, is everything straightened out?”

  “Yes, I’m going to stay at my dad’s house for a while. I just came back to drop off your keys and pick up my luggage.” Janelle handed her the car keys.

  “Oh, dear, I already put your bags upstairs in the master bedroom. I can go get them.”

  “No, no, that’s okay. I’ll get them,” Janelle said, walking toward the stairs quickly. Then she stopped and turned. “Mrs. Ivers, is there someone upstairs?”

  “Someone, yes. Aneka is upstairs, asleep in her room,” Mrs. Ivers said, looking at Tyson curiously.

  As she climbed, Janelle glanced behind her and saw Tyson watching her. She quickened her pace. She wanted to get her things and get out—and away from Tyson—as soon as possible.

  She continued down the hall, opened the already-slightly-open door wider, stepped inside and looked around. A dim light shone from a lamp on a night table beside the large king-size bed; the drapes were open, allowing moonlight to beam in, giving the room a warm, cozy glow. Just as the living room downstairs, it was fully furnished and beautifully decorated with stunning furniture that wasn’t hers.

  She spotted her bags on a cozy love seat in the alcove beneath the bay window. Grabbing one of the handles, she pulled it to the floor. As soon as she did, it tumbled open and a mass of clothing fell to her feet. She knelt and began stuffing things back inside.

  “Here, let me help you.”

  She stiffened, hearing Tyson’s voice as he knelt beside her. He picked up her hair dryer, curling iron and several pieces of intimate apparel.

  “I have it,” she said, quickly taking everything from him and zipping the suitcase up again.

  He stood and reached down his open hand to her. She stared at his hand without responding. “I won’t bite you, Janelle. I promise.” She took a deep breath and took his hand and stood.

  A few seconds passed, her hand still in his. They stood toe to toe, staring at each other in the muted darkness. Neither spoke; Janelle didn’t even dare to breathe. For the first time that evening there was a silent moment of peace between them.

  “You’re wrong,” he said softly, answering her earlier question. “I’ll take these downstairs.” She nodded and followed, and then she stopped when movement in the bed caught her eye. He set the bags down, then walked over to lean down at the side of the bed. Janelle watched his movements. That was when she saw the tiny figure snuggled beneath the covers, holding tight to the bride doll Janelle had brought back from Africa. She walked over and stood near.

  “Daddy...” The little girl moaned softly and reached out to him.

  “Shh, I’m here. Go back to sleep,” he whispered, giving her a hug and a kiss on her forehead.

  After tucking the covers over the child, Tyson straightened and smiled. Janelle instantly saw the unconditional love he had for his daughter in his eyes. It was heartwarming to see.

  “That’s not her doll,” Tyson said, turning to Janelle.

  “No, it’s not. It’s mine.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “It’s a handcrafted Ndebele bride doll. A friend of mine gave it to me before I left. It represents a bride on her wedding day. It’s supposed to be a blessing for a happy, healthy family and future.”

  “It looks expensive.”

  “I don’t know about that, but it’s sentimental. It was in the side pocket of my luggage. I guess Aneka found it. That would explain why the suitcases were open.”

  He sighed heavily while shaking his head. “I’m sorry. She’s in a curious stage right now—she’s into everything.” He reached down to retrieve the doll, but Aneka’s little fingers gripped it tightly as she rolled to the side.

  Janelle touched his arm. “No, don’t take it away from her,” she whispered. “I’ll get it another time.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Thank you. I’ll get it back to you. I promise.”r />
  “No problem,” she said softly, then paused. “She is beautiful.”

  He smiled proudly. “Yes, she is, and she’s a handful.”

  “I bet. How old is she? Four?” Janelle ventured.

  “Almost. She’ll be four years old next month. But, to tell you the truth, she’s more like fourteen.”

  “Let me guess. Nonstop energy and fiercely independent.”

  He nodded continuously. “Oh, yes, and then some. Running, jumping, skipping, dancing... You name it, she does it. Her favorite storybook character right now is Tigger, the tiger from Winnie-the-Pooh. She hops and jumps everywhere. And of course she wears her princess dress and her crown when she does.”

  “Of course,” Janelle said, smiling.

  “But she’s also kind, generous, creative and wonderfully imaginative. She loves to draw and play make-believe. She insists on choosing her own clothes, even if nothing matches, and she’s a sponge for learning new things. And, admittedly, she has me wrapped around her little finger.”

  Janelle smiled. “Daddy’s little girl.”

  “Yes, she certainly is,” Tyson said as Aneka stirred.

  “She has your heart. That’s how it should be.” Janelle looked closer at the little sleeping angel. Her features were soft and innocent and her skin was honey-toned, far lighter than Tyson’s deep, rich cinnamon complexion. Her hair, a light brown hue, was lightly tinted with reddish-blond highlights. All at once it occurred to her that Aneka bore very little resemblance to Tyson. “She must look like her mother,” she said without thinking.

  “Yes, she does,” Tyson replied.

  Suddenly, Janelle realized where the conversation might lead. She wasn’t ready to talk about Tyson having another woman in his life. She took a step back. “I’d better go. My dad is probably waiting outside for me.”

  “Janelle...” Tyson began, turning to her.

  “Daddy,” the little girl muttered again.

  Tyson turned back to his daughter.

  “Don’t worry about the bags. I’ll pick them up tomorrow. Take care of your daughter.” She turned and walked out.