Chapter Eight

Alaric

Irap my knuckles against December's apartment door hard enough to rattle the giant Christmas wreath wishing all and sundry a Merry Christmas. A family of happy snowmen wave from the living room window, with others peeking over the lip of the kitchen window.

Even the welcome mat is shaped like a snowman. My angel loves snow...the one thing we never get in Los Angeles. I file that information away for later. After I fix what I fucked up tonight.

Christ, I'm an idiot. Of course she thought I was trying to bribe her into my bed. That's exactly how it sounded...as if I thought I could get her there by agreeing to endorse her stepfather. As if that's why I thought she came to work for me.

It's not what I think. I don't know why she's pretending to be her sister, but I know it isn't at her stepfather's request. She can't be bought. She isn't for sale. And she hasn't asked for a damn thing except for a chance.

But I find myself desperate to spoil her. I want to give her everything her heart desires and make all of her dreams come true. That's why I said what I said. Because I'm goddamn crazy about her, and I'll do anything, give her anything, just to make her smile.

I don't ever want her looking at some other man like she looked at me tonight. I won't ever let some other fucker know how perfect she sounds when she's coming apart at the seams. She's my angel. I'll move heaven and earth to keep her. I want to know what she's running from so I can make her mine.

But that's not what I said. I fucked it all up. I made it sound like I was trying to bribe her.

Movement behind the door captures my attention. I spin to face it, waiting impatiently for her to open it so I can explain. Shit. She has to let me explain.

The door creaks open.

A curvy blonde pokes her head out. "Oh," she says, her face falling into a dark scowl when she sets eyes on me. "It's you."

"You must be Jillian."

She eyes me warily.

I sigh. "You must be her sister then."

"Yes." She crosses her arms, pulling her fuzzy pink robe tight around her shoulders. "And she doesn't want to see you right now."

"I need to talk to her."

Jillian snorts. "I think you've said enough for one night."

I shove a hand through my hair and curse. There's no way she's letting me in to see her sister tonight. I'm guessing December told her exactly what I said, and she's not thrilled with me either.

"For the record," I say quietly, "I didn't mean it the way it came out."

Jillian looks me over, chewing on her bottom lip just like December does. They may not be sisters by blood, but I think they've been close for so long that they've picked up the same nervous habits. "How did you mean it?"

"I meant I'd give her the world if she'd let me. I'd protect her from whatever has her pretending to be you. She deserves whatever her perfect heart desires." I sigh, leaning against the side of the building. "But she looked like a goddess, and I had my hands on her. It came out wrong."

"You're in love with her," Jillian whispers.

I think a part of me has always belonged to her. Even before I knew what it meant or understood why she always soothed me, a piece of my heart was hers. Is it so strange to believe the rest of me followed? With her, I'm not Alaric Parrish, billionaire. I'm just a man.

She's seen me at my lowest and offered me hope. She joined me in the dark and brought my grieving mind peace. Even now, she brings me peace. There's magic in the air again because of her. It feels like Christmas again because of her. I finally feel like I have a purpose. It's her. It's always been her.

But I don't tell her sister any of that. The first person who deserves to hear those words from my lips is December, my angel and my temptress.

"She asked my dad to recommend her for the internship," Jillian blurts. "He said no."

"What?"

"That's why she's pretending to be me. It's not because she wants anything from you. It's because it was the only way for her to live her dream."

I stare at her for a long moment, trying to process. "He told December no, but he wrote a recommendation for you?"

"Yes." Jillian peeks over her shoulder into the darkened apartment before stepping outside and closing the door.

"Does this happen often?"

"If you mean does he treat her differently, then yes," Jillian whispers.

Son of a bitch.

"Why?" I growl.

"Because his career is more important than his family." Jillian shrugs. "Because his dreams matter more to him than hers. I don't know. December can be clumsy and awkward, and she leads with her heart. She says what she feels, even if it's not the party line. I guess he's afraid she'll ruin his precious campaign."

Cold fury crawls up my spine. That motherfucker treats her poorly because she doesn't toe the line? Because she's clumsy? Fuck, I love how clumsy and awkward she is. She's the worst intern we've ever had, hands down. But she doesn't give up, no matter how much shit she drops or spills.

Grace doesn't make a designer. Skill does. She has that in spades. And she's eager to learn. She's sweet and patient and willing to do whatever she's asked. She soaks up every experience like a sponge, eager for it.

How much more confident would she be if she had someone in her corner who believed in her? If she hadn't spent her entire life with her own stepfather ashamed of her for being who she is?

Hell will freeze over before Cory Rhett gets an endorsement from me or our company. The only thing he's getting from me is my shoe permanently lodged in his ass and my fist in his face.

"Tell December that I'll see her tomorrow," I say to Jillian, already making plans.

She reaches out, placing her hand on my arm. "What are you going to do?" She fidgets nervously. "I mean, I know it's not my business, but she's my sister. The way he treats her isn't right."

"No, it isn't," I agree quietly. "And it won't be happening anymore. I'll make sure of that."

Tears well in Jillian's eyes, her shoulders slumping as if a great weight just lifted from them. "Thank you," she whispers, clearing her throat. "For the record, it was my idea for her to pose as me."

I kind of figured as much. I'm guessing there isn't much this girl wouldn't do for the people she loves. She's fierce and fiercely loyal to those who deserve it.

I start down the sidewalk and then pause, glancing over my shoulder at her. "Out of curiosity, were the sketches you included with the application yours or hers?"

"They're hers," Jillian says. "They're all hers."