Under the Christmas Star Read online

  “But…why?”

  “Because he’s helping me out this week so my evenings will be free for you. Seriously, he’s acting like he might actually be…what’s the word? The pastor used it yesterday.”

  “Repentant?”

  “That’s it. He actually said he was sorry.”

  “He said he was sorry? For leaving you?”

  “Yes. Well, sorry for leaving us at Christmas.”

  “That’s not quite the same.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s a start. And he put the lights up on the outside of the house. Without being asked.”

  “Joy. What’s going on?”

  “He said he wants to be there more for the kids. And for me. I don’t know, Vic. Maybe he’s realizing he made a mistake. Some people have to hit rock bottom before they’re motivated to change.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think that living in a swanky bachelor apartment with a view of the sound, driving a Lexus, and having a blonde girlfriend at his beck and call is what any man would see as hitting rock bottom.”

  “You never know. Maybe he’s realized that those aren’t the things that really matter.”

  “Joy. This is the man who snuck around behind your back and lied to you. For years.”

  “I know.” A pain twisted Joy’s gut. “But sometimes people change.”

  “Yes. And sometimes people only pretend to change.”

  “Look, if it means he’s spending time with the kids, I’m open to seeing what happens. And I’ll appreciate the extra help from him. Especially this week.”

  “Well, if he actually comes through for you, I’ll be impressed.” They reached the lot, and Victoria leaned over to give her a hug. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  As Joy fished around in her coat pocket for her car keys, something grazed her finger and she took it out. Kyle’s card. Huh. Then it occurred to her that his building wasn’t far from here.

  She waved to Victoria as she pulled past her on her way out of the lot, then glanced down at the card again. She didn’t have to be at Victoria’s till seven. That gave her some unexpected time to herself. She might as well take a little walk.

  Feeling a misty rain starting to touch her cheeks, she looked down at the wool peacoat she’d put on earlier when she’d irrationally believed the weatherman’s prediction for a dry day. Shaking her head, she opened up the back of the van and grabbed the only raingear that hadn’t been put away in the house. She groaned. It was Mike’s old navy-blue coat that he kept back here in case he’d ever gotten caught in the rain on one of the rare occasions when he drove the van. She yanked it on. So what if it was huge on her? At least she’d stay dry.

  After transferring her phone and her wallet into the roomy pockets of the jacket, she pulled up the hood and set off.

  Several minutes later, she’d left the fun shops and trendy restaurants of Pioneer Square behind and entered the more industrial area near the stadiums. She checked the address on the card again then looked up as she approached an abandoned-looking brick building. That was it.

  A feeling of awe moved through her. These old structures were so vulnerable to the wealthy out-of-town investors who made a fortune by tearing them down and replacing them with overpriced condos that stripped the city of its history and character. Just knowing that Kyle was going to breathe new life into this historically significant neighborhood with his cutting-edge business increased her admiration for him.

  Moving forward down the uneven sidewalk, she took in the architectural details of the weather-worn building. Tall windows with ornamental detailing at the top of each. A strictly decorative cornice at the roof edge that distinguished it from the plainer building next to it.

  As she got closer, the evidence of disuse and decay came sharply into focus. Weeds sprouted all around the edges of the foundation, and boards covered the small windows in the front doors. Kyle had said that he’d just closed on the building, so it made sense that no effort had been made yet to restore it.

  Except for a distant siren and the occasional car driving past, everything was so quiet, giving the impression that this block was fairly unoccupied. Feeling a little clandestine thrill, she moved closer, hoping to find a way to see inside.

  Glancing up at the closest window, she huffed out disappointment. Even standing on her tiptoes, she wasn’t quite at eye level with the stone sill. But beyond the front doors, she saw that there was some sort of rail next to the building that ran along the edge of what appeared to be a basement window well. Intrigued, she hurried over to it.

  The metal railing had two very handy horizontal bars that practically begged to be used as a step ladder. A little laugh puffed out at the thought. She’d come this far, and she so seldom got to do anything more adventurous than trying a new recipe she’d found on the internet. Stuffing her cautious-mom instincts, she glanced over her shoulder. No one was around, but she’d have to be quick.

  Pleased with himself for having found a decent espresso place within walking distance from what would soon be his new workplace, Kyle took a sip of cappuccino and enjoyed the interesting architecture of the neighborhood as he walked. This place was inspiring his creativity already.

  Rounding the corner onto his street, he admired his new building from a distance, something he really hadn’t taken the time to do yet. He had to smile at the rustic charm of the place. It wasn’t hard to picture what a little innovation and elbow grease would do to bring that old structure back to life. As an architect, he liked to think that buildings were a lot like people. They did significantly better with regular time, love, and attention.

  A movement caught his eye, stopping him short. Someone in a dark hooded jacket stood on the railing that surrounded the sunken area in front of the basement windows. Terrific. They hadn’t even moved in yet, and already they were about to be cat burgled.

  Shaking his head, he reached for his phone and kept an eye on the would-be burglar as he continued walking. Considering the person’s size, it was probably just a kid looking for trouble. Maybe if he introduced himself instead of calling the cops, he could nip this situation in the bud without inviting future problems. Approaching silently, he said a quick prayer that this wouldn’t take an unfortunate turn.

  Planting his feet firmly about five feet from the railing, he rallied his best authoritative but friendly voice. “Can I help you with something?”

  Clearly startled, the person jolted backward, while at the same time making a twisting motion to face him. In an awful split second, Kyle realized two things. The person was going to fall, either into the pit or onto the sidewalk. And the person was Joy.

  “Joy!”

  His coffee cup went flying, and he lurched forward just as she tumbled backward with a force that knocked him to the pavement where they landed together in a heap.

  All he could do for a moment was lie there in a stunned silence. Then adrenaline kicked in and he sat up, lifting her feather-light form with him so that they were positioned like a sidewalk Santa and a kid with a wish list.

  After giving her a quick once-over and silently wondering why she was wearing what he assumed was her ex’s jacket, he looked into her eyes, but she seemed to be dazed from her fall.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Huh?” She looked at him then, still not seeming to focus.

  Gripping her shoulders, he inspected her eyes, assessing them for signs of concussion, even though her head had hit his chest and not the sidewalk. Her pupils were normal, and her eyes looked…well…greener than he’d realized. And she smelled like some kind of flower that made him think of spring.

  Then those green eyes widened and she jerked back. “I…I…uh.”

  Her gaze darted around, then she pushed her weight off of his lap, which only served to land her even more awkwardly next to him with her legs splayed over his. Looking horrified, she tried to stand, but made a pained little gasp and held up the palm of her hand, which he now realized was scraped and bloody.

  “All right.�
�� He stood, then held out his hands to help her to her feet. “Come on.”

  “What are you doing?” Instead of accepting his offer, she shrunk back. “I’m fine.”

  “Obviously, you’re not fine.” Kneeling next to her, he jutted his chin in the direction of the front door. “I haven’t moved anything in there yet, but I did notice a first aid kit.”

  “Well…” Wincing, she picked some gravel off her hand. “I guess I could use a Band-Aid or two.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  A few minutes later, they sat on a couple of old wooden crates in what was otherwise a huge, mostly empty room that would soon be Think Tiny’s production floor. Joy had allowed him to clean and disinfect her hand, then cover it with a large bandage.

  “There.” He smiled, pleased that he’d had the supplies needed to take care of her. “That should at least get you home.”

  “Thanks. That was awfully nice of you.”

  “Well, I do feel partially responsible. That was my building you were climbing, Spiderman.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who told me I was a superhero.” She made a cute little grimace. “Clearly, my superpower has nothing to do with defying gravity. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He picked up the wrappers from the medical supplies and crumpled them in his hand. “So, what were you doing up there, anyway?”

  She let out a sigh. “Believe it or not, I was in the neighborhood and I just thought I’d drop by.”

  “So, you’re a superhero and a comedian.”

  “Seriously. Victoria and I had the final fitting for our dresses at a shop in Pioneer Square. I was looking for my keys, and I found your card in my pocket. I noticed that the address was close, and I wanted to see the place.”

  “You know, if you wanted a tour, all you had to do was ask.”

  “You’re busy. I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “Well, you’re in now. You might as well let me show you around.” He stood, then offered her a hand, which she accepted with her unbandaged one.

  “Actually…” She reached into the pocket of the oversized raincoat she’d set aside and checked her phone. “Can you give me the abbreviated version? I’m due at my sister’s at seven to work on wedding crafts.”

  “One short tour, coming up.” He made a sweeping gesture with both arms. “Welcome to the production floor. This is where the kit components will be made.”

  “Nice.” She looked around. “Great that your workers will have all these windows.”

  “That was a real selling point. Well, that and the price. We got this place for a song.”

  “I’m shocked. This has got to be prime real estate. So close to downtown. And the stadiums.”

  “That’s what happens when you pray, right? God manages to work things out in the most unexpected ways. We really thought we’d be setting up shop down in Kent or Burien. This was like a gift.”

  She nodded. “A gift?”

  “Well, practically. My partner, Wes, and I looked at about a million places. None of them were right. Then my neighbor happened to have an extra ticket to a Seahawks game, and he asked me to go. I almost said no, then I thought, why not take one night off and go to the game. And we happened to park in front of this building. I noticed a little sign in the window and something told me to take a closer look. Sure enough, it said that the place was for sale.”

  “Good thing you looked.”

  “Yeah. I called the number and the guy said his dad had put it on the market but hadn’t really pushed it. I’m telling you, it’s a miracle that this place didn’t get snapped up for a lot more money and turned into expensive condos. It’s totally in our price range, and it has everything we need.”

  “Amazing.”

  “It’s so encouraging to see what happens when you give something to God.”

  Nodding, she surveyed the space but didn’t say anything.

  “There’s a full kitchen and an employee break room in the basement. Upstairs looks pretty much like this but with a slightly lower ceiling. We’ll be dividing that space up into offices. Then there’s the rooftop deck.”

  “Get out.” She turned to him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “A deck?”

  “I’m serious. It needs some work, but we’re already planning a Fourth of July barbecue up there. You can imagine the view.”

  “Spectacular, I’m sure.”

  “Now that we have a space, we can take delivery of all our equipment. By this time next week, the place will be transformed. In the meantime, I have to hire a cleaning crew. As you can see, it hasn’t been really cleaned in a while.”

  “It’s not so bad.” She picked up her jacket and batted a little dust off of it, then started to make her way toward the door. “At least the previous tenants didn’t leave a lot of stuff behind for you to haul out.”

  “True.” He kept pace, not wanting her to go yet, but understanding that she needed to. “Anyway. I’m glad you weren’t really hurt. I’d hate for you to not be able to dance at your sister’s wedding.”

  “Oh, I don’t dance. Not even at my own wedding.”

  “No? Why not?”

  “Because you saw for yourself how uncoordinated I am.”

  “Dancing isn’t so much about how you look. It’s about how you feel.” He stopped and turned to her, holding up his hands. “Come on. I can show you.”

  “How to dance?” Her face lit with amusement. “Who are you, Arthur Murray?”

  He chuckled. “Not quite. I’m just a guy who’s been to a lot of friends’ weddings.” He waved her closer. “It’s fun. Nothing fancy, I promise. Just the basics.”

  She paused, seeming to consider, then draped her jacket over another crate and stepped into his hold.

  “Now, all you have to do is follow me.” He started to move, allowing the soft sound of traffic and other city noises in the background to serve as their music.

  Shuffling her feet, she giggled. “What if I’m dancing with someone who isn’t as forgiving as you?”

  “The unforgiving could learn a lesson from having their feet stepped on.” He smiled, daring to pull her a little closer. “You’re not so bad.”

  “Thanks, I think,” she said, following his lead perfectly in spite of her apparent lack of self-confidence.

  “I know I promised nothing fancy, but…” Removing his palm from her back, he raised his other hand and spun her under his arm.

  She laughed as she twirled, then got a little too much momentum behind her and stumbled, slamming into his chest. Their mutual surprised gazes met and held for a moment, and he felt certain that she could hear his heart pounding to beat the imaginary band. Her expression softened, then fell before she glanced down and released her hold on him.

  “I…I need to go.” She hurried to retrieve her jacket and tried unsuccessfully to shove her arm into a sleeve as she started for the door.

  He reached for the shoulders of the jacket. “Let me help you.”

  “Thanks.” She stopped moving long enough for him to help her glide into it. “For everything. Y…you’re a very good dancer.”

  He smiled at that. “I don’t get much practice.”

  She gave him a quick smile and made for the door. Before she opened it, she paused, then swung around and faced him. “Would you like to practice? Dancing, I mean.”

  He frowned, confused. “I don’t—”

  “Because I don’t have a date for the wedding, and it might be nice to…have someone to dance with.”

  He felt a slow, stupid grin try to hijack his face. “Saturday?”

  She nodded. “It starts at two. At the Emerald Yacht Club. Semi-formal.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  She nodded again, and disappeared out the door.

  He stood back, stunned, allowing the grin to have its way. Just like that, they had a date.

  After a couple of hours of working on wedding crafts with Victoria and her fellow bridesmaids, Joy still wasn’t sure why she had acted on the
impulse to invite Kyle to the wedding. Was she crazy? Or had she just been so caught up in the undeniable headiness of finding herself in the man’s arms that her brain had taken a coffee break and left the building?

  Of course, Victoria was so ecstatic with the news that she had already started to make plans for Joy to be the next bride in the family, which did nothing to assuage Joy’s confusion.

  By the time she got to Mike’s apartment to pick up the kids, she’d convinced herself that this was nothing more than a friendly arrangement and that no one needed to read anything more into it. Kyle had said that he enjoyed dancing at weddings, and his presence would shield her from Lance’s amorous attention. It was pretty much a win-win.

  She pressed Mike’s buzzer, hoping he hadn’t filled the kids with junk food that would have them bouncing off the walls till the wee hours. The door swung open and Mike stood there, wiping his hands on a towel like she’d caught him in the middle of doing the dishes, a sight that was completely foreign to her.

  Slightly taken aback, she sputtered out, “Oh…hi.”

  “Hey.” He actually looked pleased to see her. And not in his usual uptight, distracted way that let her know he was glad she was taking the kids off his hands. “Come on in.”

  As she did so, something struck her as strange. His place was always clean and orderly, thanks to his cleaning service, but tonight it actually looked lived-in. There were coloring books and crayons left out on the coffee table, along with a nearly-empty popcorn bowl and a stack of kids’ movies on Blu-ray.

  Even stranger than that, the fireplace glowed with the almost-real looking flames of the gas insert, and the lights of a real full-size tree flickered next to the corner windows.

  She stood there staring. Who was this man, and what had he done with Mike?

  “The kids fell asleep, so I carried them into their room.” He had gone to the other side of the kitchen island and was busy doing something.

  Her heart sank. Now she was going to have to wake the kids up and haul them down to the car. Not exactly how she had hoped this would go. “I’m not late, am I?”