Christmas Riches (Riches to Rags book 4) Read online

  Christmas Riches

  A Christmas Novella

  By Mairsile

  Christmas Riches

  © 2015-16 by Mairsile. All Rights Reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form, without written permission.

  Editor: Tracy Seybold

  Cover Design: Mairsile

  Other books by Mairsile

  www.Mairsile.com

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  Acknowledgements

  As always, a big thank you to my beta reader, best friend, Joyce.

  And to my other best friend, Fox, for always sticking by me.

  As always, may the glory go to God. Happy birthday, Jesus!

  Mairsile

  Getting in the Holiday Spirit – Melinda (Blackie) Blackstone-Livingston, and Christine (Chris) Blackstone-Livingston

  I was terribly bored. Me. Blackie Blackstone. A billionaire with toys galore, and I’m bored. I realized what the problem was. My wife, the love of my life, was busy. Chris had been working long hours the last few days on our scholarship program, and I was feeling physically neglected. I had thought being married meant I could get laid anytime I wanted. Turns out it doesn’t work that way, which is just wrong. So, taking matters into my own hands, I hired a local florist to create a very special arrangement. Not an arrangement of flowers in a vase, it was much cleverer than that. Floral balls, hundreds of them in fact, were hung from the ceiling in our bedroom. The ingenious part, which I take full credit for, was that they used mistletoe. Granted I had to have the mistletoe specially flown in and paid the florist extra to hire help to get it done quickly, but if it inspires Chris, it will be totally worth it.

  Chris would be coming up at any minute, so I hurried the workers out of my bedroom and put on some sultry Christmas music, turned the champagne in the ice bucket, and took off all my clothes. Ah, that feels better. I’m not bragging or anything, but I do work out religiously and my hardened muscles look damn good and make me feel indomitable. As hard as my abs are, I couldn’t wait for them to quiver and melt under Chris’s touch. “Deck the halls with boughs of holly,” I sang as I put a Santa Claus hat on my head and a shiny bow on each breast. Then I sat down on the side of the bed, spread my legs apart and put one of the mistletoe balls between them. The finishing touch was to tilt my head to the side in a come hither look.

  A tap on the door, which confused me. Chris wouldn’t knock. “Damn it.”

  The door opened and in walked Norma.

  Norma Shelby — old, feisty, caring, wise beyond measure — was our friend, our confidant, and our adopted grandmother. If not for her, Chris and I wouldn’t have made it to the altar.

  “Oh, shit!” I grabbed the sheet and covered myself. “Norma, I’m so sorry.”

  Norma was shocked at first, but then she looked up at all the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling and laughed. “I apologize. I thought you said come in. Obviously I need to have my hearing checked.”

  “No, uh. I’m sorry. Uh…” Anyone but Norma and I wouldn’t have cared, but now I’m totally off my game. “Did you need something, Norma?”

  “I think your need is greater than mine, dear. I’ll let Chris know you’re waiting for her,” she said with a smile, and walked out the door before I could say anything.

  Well, that was awkward. I pulled the sheet off and assumed the position again. Five minutes later, I heard thumping on the stairs and loud noises in the hallway. Norma must have told Chris and she’s rushing to me. “Come to me, my darling,” I said lustfully.

  I held my breath in anticipation as the door swung open. It wasn’t Chris. “Son of a bitch!”

  “Oh, Lordy!” the maid screamed, covering her eyes and hurrying back out the door with her vacuum cleaner.

  “That’s it!” I grabbed my phone and called Charlotte, our butler. She picked up on the first ring. “Charlotte! Please don’t ask questions, just hurry up here and stand guard in front of my bedroom door. No one but Chris comes in, understood?”

  “Right away, Madame.”

  Satisfied that the next person through that door would be Chris, I tossed the phone on the nightstand and made sure everything was back in place. I realized that Baylee-Ann, the maid, probably got behind in her work because it was almost dinnertime and she’s normally finished by now. She must have thought I’d be downstairs. But Chris likes to freshen up before dinner and that’s why I planned this little tête-à-tête. Now I’m beginning to think I’m cursed.

  “Please, please, please, Santa Claus. I know it’s not Christmas yet, but I’ve been really good this year, and—”

  The door swung open, and Chris walked in. Thank you! Her eyes grew wide, her smile even wider, and when she looked up at the mistletoe, she put her hands to her lips. She stood there for a moment and then turned and opened the door again and told Charlotte that she could leave now.

  “Norma said you wanted to see me? She didn’t say that I would be seeing all of you when I walked in, however. Remind me to thank her for that.”

  Chris’s green eyes darkened as she looked me up and down. I was getting hot just watching her get hot. She kicked off her shoes and quickly disrobed, and then gleefully flew into my arms. As we made crazy love under the mistletoe, I decided I should be bored more often.

  Because it’s Tradition – Christine (Chris) Blackstone-Livingston and Melinda (Blackie) Blackstone-Livingston

  Fourteen years ago, when I was thirteen and my parents weren’t rich yet, I stood in front of my mirror with a pillowcase on my head and pretended that I was getting married. Six months ago, I married Melinda and legally took her last name. In a few weeks, my wife and I will be celebrating our first Christmas together as wives, so my fantasy came true and my world is complete. Well, almost complete. We have put off the subject of having children for a while.

  “Why are we out here in the damp cold looking at scraggly trees?” Melinda complained.

  “Because it’s finally December and I want live trees for the living room, foyer, dining room, and servants’ quarters,” I explained.

  “What about our bedroom?” she asked.

  “Oh, no.” A tingle ran heatedly up my spine. “After yesterday’s afternoon delight, I’d like to leave the mistletoe up there until… forever.”

  Melinda grunted her approval.

  It was unusually cold for the first of December in Memphis. A few snow flurries floated to the ground as we walked the rows of red cedar trees at a tree farm. They grew a variety of different species, including Douglas Fir, ‎Norway Spruce, ‎Norfolk Pine, and even a Bonsai tree that was already decorated. I love the smell of wood, especially cedar. The fragrance always smells like Christmas to me.

  “Seriously, Chris, why do we have to be the ones to get the tree? We could just hire a decorator and have them take care of it.”

  Bless her heart, Melinda’s family is worth billions, and she’s used to handing the work off for someone else to do. My family didn’t come into their millions until I was a teenager, so I experienced the simpler things in life, like finding the perfect tree for Christmas.

  “Melinda… haven’t you ever been Christmas tree hunting before?”

  “Nope. They just magically appeared, all shiny and sparkling,” Melinda replied, and then added, “with tons of presents underneath them.”

  “That reminds me, what are we going to get Norma for Christmas?” I aske
d.

  One of our gifts to our parents would be a nicely framed portrait of Melinda and I dressed in formal attire. Our first official picture as a married couple. I also had that picture blown up and framed, then hung it in the vestibule.

  I hadn’t a clue what to get everyone else. Especially Norma, whose gift needed to be special.

  “I’ve given that a lot of thought. What do you think about stuffing her stocking with another inamorato?”

  “Not much.” I shrugged, hoping she wasn’t serious. “This is our first big Christmas dinner together as a family, with my parents and our friends joining us.” I felt a tug at my heart. “Yeah, I know it won’t be the same as if it were actually on Christmas Day, but we still need to show some decorum.”

  I really wanted everyone to gather at our house on Christmas Day, but Melinda’s parents were leaving for their château in Lucerne, Switzerland soon, and my parents were having dinner at Dad’s boss’s house. I knew it was selfish of me, but I wanted my family and friends around me during the holiday and the closest I could come to that was having a dinner the Sunday after Christmas. Perhaps it was some leftover abandonment issues, even though I found out later that I wasn’t really abandoned. My parents kicked me out because I drank myself in and out of lawsuits. They did it in hopes that I would realize I needed to save myself from myself. They were right, and I did, but that doesn’t wash away the hurt of being kicked out of their home. Realistically, they had no other option. Emotionally, I had never felt so hurt. I hoped that maybe having them with me on Christmas would release those hurt feelings and, with God’s grace, fill them with new beginnings.

  “Okay, but it won’t be near as much fun,” Melinda quipped, bringing me back to reality. “What about sending her to be with her grandson for the holidays?”

  I hated to admit it, but it was a great idea. I only had to think of Norma to know it was the perfect gift. But the thought of not having Norma with us was causing the walls to close in. Melinda looked at me curiously, and I forced a smile on my face.

  “It’s a wonderful idea, Melinda. She’ll love it.”

  She tilted her head and then kissed me on the lips. “Chris, maybe you’re taking on too much?”

  “It’s our first official Christmas together. I just want everything to be special.”

  “Oh! I’ve got a great idea for Norma!” Melinda exclaimed. Then she leaned in and whispered in my ear. She was right, it was the perfect idea. She’d have to do some paperwork first, though.

  We kept walking, looking around, and then I spotted it. The perfect tree. A tall, perfectly round, fully branched, red cedar tree. “Oh, wow. Just look at that gorgeous tree.”

  “Want me to get the curator to chop it down?” Melinda asked.

  “Oh, no. We’ll have them dig it up, use it during the holiday, and either plant it on our property or give it back to them,” I explained.

  “You’re saying that we pay an exorbitant amount of money to have this tree dug up and then just give it back to them? That doesn’t make good financial sense to me.”

  “Charity begins at home, honey,” I quipped sarcastically.

  “You do realize that is totally opposite of what you’ve been saying since I’ve known you. Right?”

  Busted. “Yes, and I didn’t mean a word of it,” I assured her. “By the way, I’m proud of you for being frugal with our money. That’s completely opposite of how you usually are.”

  “Touché. And the funny thing is that I meant it, but I would never deny you anything,” Melinda exclaimed.

  “I’m so glad, because we’re also going to decorate the trees ourselves.”

  Melinda’s reaction was priceless, and I chuckled as I tucked my gloved hand under her gaping mouth and closed it. I kissed her on the cheek, then took her by the hand and led her over to the cedar tree.

  The next day, the tree farm delivered the five trees, a spruce, a cedar, two firs, and a Bonsai. The Bonsai was Melinda’s idea for the bathroom, and I thought it was a great idea, knowing it would look good there all year round. The cedar was perfect for the ballroom. We moved the table, which was not an easy feat since it was mahogany, and put the tree in the middle of the room.

  After the trees had all been set up, I gleefully herded Melinda, Norma, and Charlotte Riggins, our wonderful, stoic butler, Konani Kalani, the best Hawaiian cook in the nation, Baylee-Ann Reynolds, our very Southern maid, and Kate Stana, our introverted secretary, into the SUV and off to do some shopping. As a newly married couple, Melinda and I didn’t have any Christmas decorations. I had a few things that my mother sent over, but it wouldn’t even be enough for the Bonsai tree.

  Once we got to the store, I sent Konani to find anything she wanted for the fir tree that would go in the dining room. I gave her carte-blanche to decorate it and the room in her Hawaiian traditions, and she skipped like a nine-year-old down the aisles of the store. I sent Charlotte to find blue ornaments to decorate the other fir tree, and Baylee-Ann was charged with finding red ornaments for the spruce. I asked Norma and Kate to find Christmas decorations to hang in the living room

  “Why are we doing the decorating? We have people for that,” Melinda complained, as she picked up a box of ornaments and placed them in the basket.

  “Oh, déjà vu. Yes, and as you just saw, they will be helping us by finding the ornaments and decorating the other trees. Besides, I love decorating, it’s good for the soul,” I explained. “And before we leave here today, I want you to find one ornament that means something to you.”

  “That means something to me?” she repeated. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It was tradition in my house when I was a little girl that I pick out a special ornament at the store to put on the tree. It was usually some toy from whatever cartoon show was my favorite at the time. My dad would lift me up so that I could hook it to the branch at the top, and we’d stand back and admire it. Then I would get bored and go play while they finished decorating the tree.” I couldn’t help but smile at the fond memories of that wonderful, uncomplicated time.

  “I’ll bet you were adorable then. Just like you are now,” Melinda said, her eyes sparkling.

  “Didn’t your family have a Christmas tradition when you were little, Melinda?”

  Melinda stopped and thought for a moment. Then she smiled. “Yes, every year I got to put a bow on our butler’s bald head. It was usually the highlight of my day. Especially when Charles made it difficult for me. As I got older, he seemed to accept it as a ritual, and offered his head, which of course meant it wasn’t near as much fun for me.”

  That was not what I was expecting to hear. Her tradition as a child was to embarrass and humiliate a man in front of his employer? It was a testament to Charles that he respected himself enough to put up with it.

  “You know,” Melinda continued, “that was pretty crappy of me, wasn’t it?”

  I nodded. “You were a different person back then, Melinda.”

  “Well, you’re right about that. Maybe I should send him a fruit basket or something.”

  I laughed. “Oh yeah, that would make up for all those years of annoyance. Is that the best you can come up with?”

  Melinda shook her head. “Apparently not. Okay, Ms. Smarty-pants, what did you have in mind?”

  “Melinda, you spend an outrageous amount of money on a new car or yacht just because you can. If you were him, and had the money, what would you buy yourself?”

  Melinda picked up a sailboat ornament and grinned. “I’d buy a huge yacht and sail around the world.”

  “Now you’re talking,” I said.

  “I’d also have it stocked with all the amenities, including a butler and maid, and invite all my friends along for the ride.”

  “Isn’t Charles retiring soon?”

  Melinda looked at me in shock. “Damn, you’re right. He should have retired years ago, but Mother convinced him to stay on. Maybe if he had a new toy to play with, he’d want to retire and have some fun.”


  I clapped my hands together. “That’s a wonderful idea, Melinda. You could start a new tradition for the holidays.”

  “You mean like giving a yacht to the hired help every year?”

  “Uh, no. I mean you could pick an employee once a year to give a nice gift to, I guess. I’m sure your parents probably give them a gift, but—”

  “They give fruit baskets and a ham,” Melinda said.

  I bit back my first thought, which was insulting. “Oh, um, that’s nice, I’m sure.”

  “I know, it sucks. What do your parents do for the house staff?”

  “They don’t have very many employees, but my father helps them invest their money, and my mother gives each one a gift certificate for three-hundred dollars. Maybe we can give our employees a bonus, too?”

  “Sure, that’s a nice idea. But I was thinking maybe we could also give them the day off, or something like that.”

  “Great minds think alike,” I said, “because I already thought of that. But I think we should give them the week off.”

  Melinda’s eyes opened wide, and she shook her head. “You mean like the whole week? What… how… who will fix us breakfast? Oh, God. Who will empty the cat litter?”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten the month you spent in my apartment without a dime to your name?”

  “No, I haven’t forgotten the bad food, cramped quarters, and the tiny bathroom. Which is exactly why I don’t wish to repeat it. Besides, your kitten didn’t make that much poop. Now we have two cats who not only make a lot, but also throw up a hairball every other day. I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole.” Suddenly there was a twinkle in her eyes. “Wait. What about Norma? She shouldn’t have to wait on herself or suffer through my cooking. Should she?”

  Now it was my turn to be shocked. Melinda was right.

  “What about me?” Norma asked as she walked up with Kate, who was pushing a basket full of decorations.