Page 48 of Their Christmas Miracle

Elle paused, wallet gripped in a white-knuckled hand. “That… wouldn’t make a difference. He’s cut me off.”

“Sorry?” Blake dropped his hand, pushed a file out of the way, and sank onto the edge of the table. “What do you mean, he cut you off?”

“My…” She shook her head. “Sam. My ex-husband.” Her voice did that thing again, dipping and wavering, and she pressed her palm over her breastbone as if trying to still her heart. “Could… would you… could I—do you have coffee?”

Blake glanced surreptitiously at the woman over his shoulder as he made them both a cup of coffee. She had a death-grip on herself, hugging her arms tight, and her pointed stare at the far — okay, not that far — wall made it obvious she was desperately trying to keep her shit together.

Her clothes were obviously something too expensive for him to even wrap his head around. She drove an S-Class for fuck’s sake. This woman was rolling in it, and she was trying to get out of a few hundred bucks?

He came back with the coffee. Elle seemed reluctant to release the grip she had on herself to take it, but wavered a second later. Cold fingers brushed his when he handed her the cup, and she twitched as if he’d shocked her. He hadn’t… at least, that tiny tingle couldn’t have been static discharge — not with her that wet and the complete lack of carpeting anywhere in this joint.

“Wanna sit?”

“I’m fine. Thank you.” She blew over the coffee, her eyes meeting his for an instant before darting away. Taking a careful sip, she gave a small nod. “Good.”

It wasn’t. But it was hot. And, from the tiny shiver she gave, it was obvious warmth was something she desperately needed.

“Look, lady—”

“Elle.”

Blake let out a slow breath. “Elle. Why don’t you come back on Monday? We can go through the file. I’ll show you the call log—”

“No. Now. Today.” Her wide eyes found his, fixed him with a persistent stare. “I have to get my car today.”

“Then you’ll need to pay. Today.” Blake shrugged. “We take Diner’s Club too.”

Elle lifted her chin, taking a defiant slug of coffee. “I’ll pay the five hundred today and the rest next week.”

“Full payment, or you don’t get the car.”

They had a brief staring contest. Blake won.

Elle’s gaze fluttered away as she stepped up to him. For a moment, he thought was going to hit him or throw the coffee in his face. But instead, her lips twisted and she hurriedly set the cup down with a shaking hand.

“Asshole,” she whispered. “That motherfucking—”

“Excuse me?” Blake dipped his head, eyebrows lifting as he tried to look into her eyes. She kept them downcast, her mouth squirming as if had to rally another valiant defense against her tears.

“Sam. That asshole cut me off. My credit cards. My bank account. Everything.”

And now a tear did come — small, crystalline — and he watched it in deep fascination as it trailed down her cheek and slid into the corner her mouth. She didn’t seem to notice.

Elle hadn’t stepped away — she was close enough for him to grab, if he wanted. He pushed the thought away, chastising himself for its inappropriateness.

“He’s the one that slept around, not me.” Her eyes darted up to Blake’s, daring him to argue. “I was going to leave him. But he beat me to it. Had it all planned out. That mother—”

“Hey, okay. Whoa. Elle?” Blake set his coffee down beside hers. “We seem to have gotten derailed—”

“I have nothing,” Elle went on as if she hadn’t even heard him. “He’s changed the locks. My bank pin. My passwords, everything. Told the security at our building not to let me in.”

She washed a hand down herself. “This is it. This is all I have. That and—” her wallet clicked open “—this. Four-hundred-eighty.” Elle waved a handful of bills in his face. “Take it.”

Blake lifted his hands in surrender. “Look, lady—”

“It’s Elle!”

“Elle…” Blake tried for a calm voice, and failed. “Look, it sucks. I get it. But I’m running a business here. If you don’t have the money, you come back Monday.”

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