Page 4 of Mistletoe Bargain with the Billionaire

“I’m afraid you’ve got me at a disadvantage, Miss…”

Guess my brown eyes aren’t so memorable or draw forth any poetry. He still doesn’t recognize me. Granted, I was fifteen when we last met and still in the throes of adolescent hell back then.

“I’m Carol. Carol Wilder,” I mumble.

As if fate’s decided I’ve not been mocked enough tonight, piped-in music begins to play since the live entertainment is over. And, it’s not just any music. It’s the song I wrote – ‘Mistletoe Muse.’ The song I never got any credit for writing.

Three notes in and I feel the familiar bitterness swelling inside me but then Nick’s nose scrunches up. “Carol? Carol Wilder?”Annnnd, you recognize me.“From Whistler, Maine?!” When he sounds that incredulous, it’s honestly kind of insulting.“TheCarol Wilder from Frankincense Lane?!”

Yup, the girl who you once kissed and never saw again. Carol who’s still chasing her silly singer/songwriter dreams across the West Coast on a shoe-string budget after getting screwed over by the record producer who was… well, screwing her at the time. All while you’ve been conquering the tech world and making the kind of money that buys private islands.

Carol who just acted like a bar brawler towards some hecklers and got fired in front of you.TheCarol Wilder from Frankincense Lane who might start crying over your ruined suit or her cat not getting his can of Tasty Time Tuna tonight any second now.ThatCarol.

“The one and only,” I answer with a wane smile.

“Do you know this siren, Nick?” another man asks, joining us outside my mop closet/dressing room. Another hottie in Armani though this one carries a darker look and a sharper edge to his smile. “Is she responsible for your queso-tastrophy there?” he adds, pointing at Nick’s jacket.

“Yeah, I do. And I guess she is,” he says, grimacing at the suit before his smile is back. “This is Carol. She grew up next door to me in Maine. Carol, this is Anthony, my friend and business partner.”

“The girl next door, huh?” Anthony says and there’s something calculating in his tone. I don’t miss the exchange of glances between the two guys. But, when Anthony claps Nick on the back and says, “I’m cashing in my chips for the night. Why don’t you two do some catching up?”, I can hardly feel any negativity towards the man.

Because, once upon a time, spending time with Nick was my favorite thing in the world. And maybe part of me wonders if I might still feel that way given half a chance.

3-Nick

Carol Wilder. I’m stunned. And, she’s… well, stunning.

Messy blonde hair, freckles, Coca-Cola brown eyes and skinny limbs. Cute in a kid-type way. Fearless, spunky, but sweet as soda pop.Thatwas Carol Wilder from Frankincense Lane.

She was the yin to my yang when we were kids, always pulling me away from the game console and my grandmother’s orderly house so we could explore, get messy and walk on the wild side of kiddom while I was the responsible one who made sure we didn't stray too far out of bounds.

She was the first friend I made in Whistler after my mother dumped my sister and me on Grams, my best friend. Seeing her is like having a thousand fuzzy, halcyon memories come flooding back at you, as comforting as chicken noodle soup or warm apple pie.

She was also the first girl you ever kissed.

I mean, I hadn’t forgotten it. I just hadn’t thought of that in a while now. Why’d we lose touch again? Oh, right. My father had decided he wanted to play parent again. What a joke. He’d come home for Christmas and taken me to Boston with him afterwards. I’d been stupid enough to be excited about it at the time.

Anyway, that first kiss was kind of forced upon us during Grams’ annual Christmas Eve party. Damn mistletoe. A pernicious, parasitic plant shouldn’t have the power to compel two people to press their lips together, should it?

I wouldn’t have gone through with it but Marley was taunting me, saying I’d pee my pants before I’d kiss a girl, and Carol was… Carol was looking at me like she might cry if I didn’t do it. The last thing I’d wanted was to make Carol cry.

So, I’d kissed her.

It was as quick and awkward as you can imagine a first kiss between two gawky teenagers standing in front of a room full of neighbors and relatives could possibly be but Carol had smiled at me when it was over. That smile… Christ, no girl had ever smiled at me quite like that.

Meanwhile, the years have changed some things though I still can’t believe I didn’t recognize her sooner. She’d always had a great singing voice but that wasn’t all that had my attention earlier when Anthony and I took a gambling break and wanted a drink.

She’s still blonde-haired and brown-eyed but now she’s a grown woman with curves that don’t quit. My dick twitches at just the thought of mapping out that body with my hands and tongue. The silly seasonal reindeer antlers she lost in the food fight earlier hadn’t detracted from her appeal. And, while there’s still a hint of the freckles, it only enhances her loveliness in my opinion.

I’d been contemplating introducing myself and daydreaming about a potential bit of ‘what happens in Vegas’ fun before those assholes had ruined her performance. No matter what she said earlier, I’m going to have a word with the lounge manager or his boss before I leave town. Even if she did lose her cool, she shouldn’t have lost her gig.

But now that I know it’s her, I obviously can’t get it on for one night with Carol from next door. This impromptu reunion, however, could be quite fortuitous. It would be a tidy solution to my little dilemma and I do appreciate when things can be handled efficiently.

Ushering her out of the lounge, I steer her towards the casino’s lone Michelin-star restaurant to make my pitch. The buffet doesn’t seem like the right atmosphere for popping the ‘will you be my fake girlfriend?’ question.

“Oh, I can’t really, um… I’m not hungry.” She glances down at her worn handbag, at odds with the glittery dress she’s wearing. Her growling stomach makes me doubt the veracity of her statement.

“Come on, my treat. Even if you just want a drink, I’d like for us to catch up. It’s been, what? Twelve years?”

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