Ghosts of Christmas (Steamy Bwwm Holiday Romance)

Shocked, I stepped back again. “Umm. . .so. . .listen. I’m so sorry, but I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

“You’re Muslim or Jewish?”

“Yep.”

“Which one?”

“Pick either one.” I gave him a weak smile, grabbed the panties from his hand, and headed to the other side of the room. “However, the present is super thoughtful. Thank you so much—”

“Ivy, can we talk?”

“I have a plane to catch. If I didn’t, I would stay.” I shoved the panties in my pocket. “Red, you’re a really great guy, but I’m not interested in more than sex.”

“Because I’m a model?”

“What? No. Why would that be a problem?”

“Some designers don’t like to get entangled with models—”

“That’s not my reason. It’s just that. . .I’m not into the whole relationship thing.” I patted his shoulder. “So, let’s just keep this how it is.”

He frowned at my hand. “Just fucking?”

“I like to fuck. You like to fuck.”

“I like to do more than fuck, Ivy. I like to talk and go to the movies and even know who the hell I am fucking.”

“You know me a lot more than most.” I rushed over to my coat and purse.

“I don’t know what makes you laugh or cry—”

“That’s good. Trust me. I’ve got serious issues. I’m doing you a favor.”

“Mommy issues?”

Horror surged through me. I spun around. “What did you say?”

“You screamed for your mother over and over—”

“Listen.” I held up a shaking finger. “Forget about that.”

“What happened—”

“Red, leave it alone.” I put my back to him, put on my coat, and grabbed my purse.

“Okay, but we could at least start going on dates or something.”

Whoa!

“I would love to show you more about me.”

“Sounds good.” I picked up my shoes, didn’t put them on, and hurried out of his bedroom. “I’ll have my assistant set up something.”

“What?”

“See you later.” I rushed to his front door and left.

Holy Mother Mary. Why am I always fucking the commitment guys? Where’s the ones that just want me for my body?

I’d read so many articles about women having a difficult time trying to find Mr. Right. Men were full of shit. When women came on strong, they ignored and mistreated them. When women ignored and simply used them for their bodies, then they wanted something more. I bet if I wanted to be with these guys, they would sing another tune.

Poor, Red. I thought we had at least another month of sex.

I turned on my phone and dialed Park.

She answered on the second ring. “Hello. I’m at the gate waiting for our flight. I don’t see you. I hope I don’t have the wrong—”

“I’m late. I’ll be there soon.” I checked my watch and went to the elevator. “How did the dinner and auction go?”

“Dinner was fabulous. Everyone was worried about your absence. It was announced that you were sick and couldn’t attend. There were all sorts of gossip that went around the rest of the night.”

“Gossip?” I pushed the button. “Like what?”

“You’re pregnant. You overdosed backstage. You’re being investigated by the FBI and they were there to arrest you.”

“Typical.” I rolled my eyes. “How much did we raise?”

“Close to a million dollars. I’ll have to go over everything again. But there were several store contracts offered for the pants suits and the crystal-embellished gowns.”

“Good shit.” I stepped on the elevator. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

It took me a little over an hour to get home, shower, grab my suitcase, and arrive at the airport. I hurried through the security and ran to the gate. Another five minutes and I would have missed the plane.

Park and I boarded the plane and sat in First class. The seats cost 5k each. We could lie them as flat as a bed which would be helpful for the fifteen-hour flight.

Park got comfortable in her seat. “You missed the private lounge at the terminal.”

“Oh yeah.”

“They served caviar and champagne.”

“Good. They’ll serve some on here for us too.”

She grinned. “All right. I can get used to this.”

As more people boarded the flight, the stewardess handed us champagne.

I grabbed mine and winked at Park. “Not bad at all.”

She took hers and cheered my glass. “To a fun wedding.”

I nodded. “And lots of work getting done.”

Park kept quiet and took a long gulp of her champagne.

I sipped mine and placed it down. “Speaking of work, let’s get some done now.”

Park stirred in her seat and then set her glass down. “I’ll get out my laptop.”

During the beginning of the fifteen-hour ride, we planned out the schedule for next year—fabrics and trims would need to be selected, the delivery of sample garments needed a date, and I wanted to hire a new design team. This year, I decided I would head in a different direction with my brand.

We made more plans. Once I finished next year’s Fall/Winter designs, Park would have to oversee all production on the designs. I walked her through all those duties. She took excellent notes.