A Very Dirty Christmas Read online

  Gaige squeezes my leg again, and I pick up my steak knife and point it in his direction, shooting him a warning look. He chuckles, but moves his hand away. If he thinks I'm still the girl he used to know, that I'm going to get involved in these kinds of juvenile games, he has another thing coming.

  "What did you want to talk about, dad?" I ask.

  "I'll get to it in a minute," Beau says. "The photo shoot went well? They got the product placement in there?"

  "Done deal," Gaige says.

  My father nods. "It's a good partnership, Marlow and your team. You're a hot brand. Even after that goddamned accident."

  Gaige rolls his eyes. "Well, it's good to know that at least I haven't ruined the brand," he says, his tone sarcastic.

  The tone is lost on my father. "I've been giving some thought to your work role, Delaney," he says. "And this affects Gaige."

  I swallow hard. When my father sold me on coming to work for him, there was no mention of Gaige being involved in any way. Sure, I'd heard that my father bought Gaige's racing team a year ago, but I didn't think that meant Gaige was living here. Or that he was actually working with my father. I mean, what the hell does the CEO of a company do with a racing team, anyway? I figured it was one of those things my father bought for fun and then handed off to someone else to deal with.

  "I'm all ears," Gaige says. I can feel him looking at me and I pointedly snub him. After he put his hand on my leg, the only appropriate response is to ignore his antics, possibly forever. I reach for my water glass to distract myself from Gaige's gaze.

  "I want you on Gaige," Beau says.

  I choke on my sip of water, coughing loudly. Beside me, I think I hear Gaige chuckle. Screw him if he thinks this is funny.

  "Are you okay?" Beau asks.

  "Water…wrong…pipe," I gasp.

  "I'm sure it's not that she doesn't want to work with me," Gaige says.

  "Don't be ridiculous," Beau says. "Why wouldn't she want to work with you? You're family. She hasn't even heard what I need her for yet."

  Family. I cough a few more times before I speak, hoping my tone conveys the level of irritation that I feel. "Why are you both talking about me like I'm not even here?"

  Gaige leans toward my father. "Well, she seems rather sensitive this evening."

  Beau chortles. "Don't wind her up," he says. "You know, I remember she used to get like this when she was younger, too. Mood swings, hormones, you know."

  Heat rises to my face, and I push my chair away from the table, standing and throwing my napkin on my plate. "Would you say something like that to a female employee?"

  My father stares at me and blinks. I'm fairly certain he'd never expect such a reaction from me. "Of course not," he says. "I was only joking."

  "This is exactly the reason I wasn't sure I wanted to come back here to work for you," I say, trying to maintain my composure. "Because I was afraid you wouldn't treat me professionally."

  My father gives me a long look, then clears his throat. "You're right."

  I am? Has Hell frozen over? I don't think I've ever heard my father admit I was right, not once in my whole life. "I am," I say, steadying my voice.

  "I wouldn't have made that comment to a female employee, and it was inappropriate to say to you. I was wrong, and I'm sorry. Now. Will you listen to what I have to say? I want you working with Gaige."

  "Me?" I ask, my tone suddenly an octave higher. "Why?"

  "Will you please sit?" Beau asks.

  I sink into my seat. I absolutely, positively, in no way, shape, or form, can spend time working with Gaige.

  I think of that last kiss, four years ago, the kiss I swear still lingers on my lips. I think of Gaige sweeping the hair away from my forehead earlier, the arousal that coursed through me at his touch.

  And then I think of Gaige's reputation, his revolving door of women. The fact that he seems to have the innate ability to push all of my buttons and irritate the shit out of me.

  And the fact that he's my damn stepbrother.

  But overriding everything, all I can think about when I look at him now is the unfinished business that hangs in the air between us.

  Working with Gaige would be way too damn dangerous. I can't think of anything that would be worse.

  "I have news that affects both of you." Beau's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Gaige knows most of this, but not all of it. Marlowe Oil needs a face of the company, someone the public associates with us. Someone sexy."

  Gaige laughs.

  "No offense, Gaige," Beau drawls. "I mean sexy in a business sense. Gaige is perfect. He draws in the male and female demographic. He's going to do for Marlowe what the racecar drivers do for other companies."

  My father refuses to actually name his competitors in private, instead referring to them as "that other organization" or "the one with the idiot CEO."

  "Okay," I say. I'm failing to anticipate how this is going to involve me. My father promised me an entry-level position, something a normal college graduate would have. Please, please, please, I silently beg the universe, do not let this be the kind of thing where I have to get coffee for Gaige or something equally humiliating.

  "This is a huge deal," Beau says. "And we're partnering with one of the biggest motorcycle manufacturers in the world for a Japanese tour during the off season, during which Gaige is going to promote Marlowe Oil at every opportunity. There's the potential for them to sign on to use Gaige in major promotion in the future. And Marlowe Oil."

  "Congratulations," I say, nodding at Gaige, who's smiling like the cat that ate the canary. I'm afraid to ask what he might be thinking. I look warily at my father.

  "I want you on Gaige in Japan," he says.

  "Me?" I squeak.

  No, no, no. Hell, no. The words echo in my head.

  "Wait. What?" Gaige asks. He sounds as surprised as I am.

  "Shouldn't someone more…I don't know, experienced…go with Gaige?"

  "And someone who's not my stepsister," Gaige says. Now he doesn't sound surprised; he sounds irritated. Why shouldn't he want to go with me? I'm the one who shouldn't want to go with him. "You didn't mention this before."

  "I didn't mention it because I hadn't realized yet how useful Delaney would be," Beau says. "Besides, there will be plenty of experienced people – the company rep and Gaige's staff."

  What the what? Gaige has staff?

  "But, I don't understand," I say. This entire situation refuses to compute in my brain. "Why would you need me?"

  Gaige makes a sound under his breath. "Don't you get it?" he asks. "So you can be my fucking babysitter."

  "You speak Japanese," Beau says.

  "But surely there are translators."

  "Not ones I'd trust the way I trust you," he says.

  "Exactly," Gaige says. He stands up. "Your father wants to negotiate me being the face of Marlowe Oil, but he doesn't actually think I'm capable of doing just that."

  I look up at Gaige, suddenly torn between feeling completely weird and awkward about this position, and defending my father. "I'm sure that's not what he's saying. Right, dad?"

  But my father hesitates a second too long, and Gaige pushes himself away from the table. "That's exactly what he's saying," he says. "Come on, Delaney. This is a great opportunity for you. When else in your life are you going to get a chance to babysit the famous train wreck, Gaige O'Neal?"

  Gaige doesn't say anything else, just storms out of the room, and I'm left sitting there at the table with my father, the air in the room tense.

  "Dad," I start. "Am I just going to be a glorified babysitter? Surely someone else would be better for that than his own stepsister. Like his manager or something."

  "I didn't want Gaige to take it that way," he says. "But…"

  "But it's true." I don't even bother to hide my groan. "Come on, dad…"

  "Gaige is going to do wonders as the face of Marlowe Oil. We're too uncool; we need someone exactly like him to make oil young and hot. Oil isn't