The Christmas Baby Bump. Lynne Marshall
don’t have any authority here.”
“Oh, trust me, on this topic your input is equally as important as any of ours.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We have to decide how we’re going to decorate the yacht for the annual Christmas parade.”
“It’s not even Thanksgiving yet!”
“Big ideas take big planning. Besides, have you been by the Paseo? They’ve already put up a Christmas tree. Huge thing, too. I took Robbie to see it last night.”
His deadpan expression and quirky news made her blurt a laugh. When was the last time she’d done that? “Well, seeing I’ve never been on a yacht, not to mention the fact that I suck at decorating, I can’t see how I’ll bring a lot to the table.”
“Come anyway. You might enjoy it.”
I might enjoy it. Wasn’t that the pep talk she’d given herself the other day? Be open to new things? Start acting alive again?
“It’s a free lunch,” he enticed with lowered sunbleached brows.
“I’ll think about it.”
“If you change your mind, we’ll be in the lounge in ten minutes.”
“Okay.”
His smile started at those shocking blue eyes, traveled down to his enticing mouth and wound up looking suspiciously like victory. The guy was one smooth operator.
After he left, Stephanie surprised herself further when she brushed her hair, plumped and puffed it into submission, then put on a new coat of lip gloss before heading to the back of the building for the meeting. She stopped at the double doors, fighting back the nervous wave waiting to pounce. The place was abuzz with activity. Claire called out various types of sandwiches she had stored in a huge shopping bag, and when someone claimed one, she tossed the securely wrapped package at them. One of the nurses passed out canned sodas or bottled water. Another gave a choice of fruit or cookie.
“I’ll take both,” she heard Phil say just before he noticed her at the door. “Hey, I saved you a seat.” He patted the chair next to him. “What kind of sandwich do you want?”
“Turkey?”
“We need a turkey over here,” he called to Claire.
Stephanie ducked as the lunch missile almost hit her head before she could sit. A smile worked its way from one side of her mouth to the other. These people might be crazy, but they were fun.
“Sorry!” Claire called out.
“No problem.” She had to admit that she kind of liked this friendly chaos. It was distracting, and that was always a good thing. When her gaze settled on Phil, he was already watching her, a smile very similar to the one she’d seen in her office lingering on his lips.
“I’m glad you decided to come.”
If he was a player, she got the distinct impression he was circling her. How in the world should she feel about that? Lunch was one thing, but what if he asked her out? Hearing how he struggled with Robbie had shown her another side of him. This guy had a heart beneath all that puffed-up male plumage, she’d bet her first paycheck on it. She wasn’t sure she could make the same claim for herself.
“Okay, everybody, let’s get going on this.” Jason stood at the head of the long table, his mere presence commanding attention. Dark hair, pewter eyes, suntanned face, she could see why Claire watched him so adoringly. “Last year we came in third in the Santa Barbara Chamber of Commerce Christmas Ocean Parade, and this year I think we have a fighting chance of taking first if we put our heads together and come up with a theme.”
“You mean like Christmas at Christmastime?” Jon looked perplexed by the obvious.
“He means like Santa and his helpers, or Christmas shopping mania, or the North Pole,” Claire shot back.
“How about trains?” Jon said. “Boys love trains at Christmas.”
“What about trains and dolls?” Jon’s nurse added, with a wayward glance.
“How about Christmas around the world?” Stephanie’s nurse, Amy, spoke up. “We could cover the yacht with small Christmas trees decorated the way other countries do, and the mast could be a huge Christmas tree all made from lights.”
The conversation buzzed and hummed in response to the first ideas. It seemed everyone had a suggestion. Everyone but Stephanie. She particularly liked what Amy had suggested.
What did she remember most from Christmas besides the beautifully decorated trees? Santa, that’s what. “Could we have a Santa by the big tree?” She said her thought out loud by mistake.
“Yeah, we need a Santa up there,” Phil backed her up.
“And I nominate you to be Santa,” Claire said, pointing to Phil with an impish smile. “You’d be adorable.”
“Me! You’ve got to be kidding! I scare kids.”
“Oh, right, and Robbie doesn’t adore you. Yeah, I think you should be Santa and Gina and Robbie can sit on your lap.” Claire wouldn’t back down.
“No way,” he said, with an are-you-crazy glare in his eyes. Out of the corner of his mouth he said, “Thanks a lot,” to Stephanie.
“Great idea,” one of the nurses blurted across the table, before a few others chimed in. “Yeah.”
“But I am the un-Santa.” He glanced at Stephanie again, this time with a back-me-up-here plea in his eyes.
Not about to get involved in the debate, she lifted her brows, shrugged and took a bite of her sandwich.
“Look,” Jason said. “We need to get more people involved on the yacht, and you haven’t been much help the last couple of years.” There was a sparkle in Jason’s eyes, as if he enjoyed putting Phil on the spot. “Should everyone be elves?” he asked, his mouth half-full of sandwich.
“What if one person stood by each decorated country’s tree dressed in the traditional outfit?” Amy seemed to be on a roll. “You know, lederhosen, kilt, cowboy hat…oh, and what’s that Russian fur thing called? Ushanka? And what about a dashiki or caftan, oh, wait, and a kimono, or a sari or…”
“That’s a fantastic idea,” Claire said.
Revved up, Amy grinned, and Stephanie nodded with approval at her. Phil squeezed her forearm. Okay, everything was a great idea except for Santa.
General agreement hummed through the room, and several people soon chimed in. Wow. I like that. Good idea.
The receptionist, Gaby, wearing glasses that covered half of her face, took notes like a court reporter.
“Did you get that?” Jason asked her.
Gaby nodded, never looking up, not breaking her bound-for-writer’s-cramp speed.
“Ah, then we shouldn’t need a Santa anymore,” Phil said, sounding relieved.
“Of course we will,” Claire said. “One Santa unites them all, and Phil will be it.”
Stephanie’s eyes widened and from the side, she noticed his narrow betrayed-looking gaze directed at Claire.
“I say we take a vote on who should be Santa, the captain of the boat or me,” he said, just before his beeper went off. “Damn. It’s day care. I’ve got to take this.” He strode out of the room, the doors swinging in his wake.
Jason snagged the opportunity. “Okay, everyone agree Phil’s Santa?”
Everyone laughed and nodded. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance. Stephanie had to admit she sort of felt sorry for him.
Phil stepped back into the room, half of his mouth hitched