A Christmas Caroline

By Allison Gatta

A classic story with a romantic twist…

Corporate Scrooge Eric Spade isn’t coming home for Christmas. Which, to be honest, he doesn’t think is that big of a deal. That is, until the so-called ghosts of past, present, and future come knocking to show him the error of his ways. And though Eric expected the traditional Christmas Carol treatment, he’s surprised to learn that his journey through time is less about himself than about his best friend’s long unrequited and suddenly sexy sister…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Allison Gatta
• Release date: Oct 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386009856

Book preview

Chapter One

If Eric Spade had to listen to Simply Havin' a Wonderful Christmas Time for one more second, he was going to call an emergency staff meeting .

Though, in truth, he probably should have gotten one together anyway.

The firm had only seven days before the biggest deal in the history of Marley & Marley Real Estate, and still all anyone could talk about was what they'd gotten their kids for Christmas, or which company sold the best eggnog.

It was enough to drive any man insane, let alone Eric, who thought he would have been spending a major breakthrough like this with his—now former—business partner. But no, nobody cared about the extra strain on him since Jake Marley had left the company, or the new direction Eric had been working tirelessly to promote since becoming CEO.

The moment after the Thanksgiving pie had cooled, all anyone could talk about was the freaking holidays.

Even for today, Christmas Eve, the non-stop holiday talk was beyond excessive.

How did they not realize that all this fuss was for one single day of the year? Did they truly think it was worth all the pomp and circumstance of this chatter and prep and cookie swapping? Couldn't they just move on and focus on what was important instead of this sham holiday to pacify the masses?

Eric sighed, flicked a random piece of paper on his desk, and then groaned as Simply Havin' a Wonderful Christmas Time morphed into Little Saint Nick.

He glanced toward the frosted glass door and glared at the silhouette of his secretary as she bounced along to the beat and fiddled with something he could only assume was the volume on her radio dial. Gritting his teeth, he held down the buzzer on the corner of his desk. Bobbi, will you turn that off?

If we have to be here on Christmas Eve, don't you think we should at least get something out of it?

You get a paycheck out of it, he said. Unless you'd rather not have one of those.

When Bobbi didn't answer, he released the little red speaker button, and sat back in his chair, just in time to see her move nearer. With the click of his doorknob, she shuffled inside, and then snapped the door closed behind her again.

Mr. Spade, I think we need to talk. She didn’t quite meet his eyes when she spoke, and it was all he could do not to sigh and shoo her back out the door. Still, it was Christmas. Apparently that meant something to everyone here, if not to him.

He settled for saying, I don't know what about.

It's just...We're not going to be able to get this done. She chanced a glance at him, but apparently thought better of it and set her sights on the floor again as a lock of her dull brown hair fell over her shoulder.

He squared his jaw, waiting. A long moment of silence stretched between them, and when it was clear she wouldn't be talking again any time soon, he prompted, What isn't going to work?

It's just...it's Christmas Eve. Nobody wants to be here. She let out a little sorry-sounding chuckle.

"I want to be here," he corrected.

She glanced around his office, and he followed her gaze. In truth, there wasn't much for her to focus on. There wasn't even a chair in front of his desk for her to sit in. There were no pictures on the wall, no diplomas. Only a single picture frame sat on his desk, just in front of his phone. He glanced at it for a fraction of a second, just long enough to remember why he was in the shit to begin with.

He and his best friend, smiling and laughing, only weeks before Mr. Marley Sr. had retired and promoted them to running the business.

So much for that dream.

Be that as it may—Bobbi’s timid voice brought him back to the present—you're the boss. We're not all so—

Dedicated? He nearly guffawed.

That's not the word I would have chosen. She pushed the errant lock of hair behind her ear, and then ran her hands down her oversized sweatshirt. We only have seven days to put together this deal with Future Real Estate. Between Christmas and New Year's Eve... She tilted her lips to the side. Don't you think Angelica Reed would understand if you postponed the deal until after the holidays? I'm sure her office doesn't want to—

Work? he asked. Simple enough. That was the bottom of it, wasn’t it? These people weren’t used to anything being asked of them. They weren’t used to being held accountable.

She raised her hands in front of herself, defensive. Please, just hear me out.

"No, you hear me out. I've allowed you to play music and celebrate inside this office. I've even turned a blind eye on the fact that you seem to have forgotten how to dress for the work day." He