Naughty or Nice Read online

  Naughty or Nice

  Kari Lee Harmon

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author' imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For more information, please direct your correspondence to:

  The Story Vault

  c/o Marketing Department

  P.O. Box 11826

  Charleston, WV 25339-1826

  http://www.the-story-vault.com

  NAUGHTY OR NICE

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2012 by Kari Lee Harmon

  http://www.karileetownsend.com

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

  Other Books By Kari Lee Townsend

  Cozy Mysteries (writing as Kari Lee Townsend)

  Tempest In The Tea Leaves (A Fortune Teller Mystery series)

  Corpse In The Crystal Ball (A Fortune Teller Mystery series)

  Trouble In The Tarot (A Fortune Teller Mystery series) --coming soon!

  Romances (writing as Kari Lee Harmon)

  Destiny Wears Spurs

  Project Produce

  Love Lessons (novella)

  Naughty or Nice (novella)

  Humorous Women’s Fiction (writing as Kari Lee Harmon)

  Sleeping In The Middle (The Comfort Club series)

  To Have and To Hold (The Comfort Club series) --coming soon!

  Till Death Do Us Part (The Comfort Club series) --coming soon!

  Man Attack (The Comfort Club series) --coming soon!

  Middle Grade (writing as Kari Lee Townsend)

  Talk To The Hand (Digital Diva series - Book 1)

  Rise of the Phenoteens (Digital Diva series - Book 2)

  Let Freedom Ring (Digital Diva series - Book 3) --coming soon!

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my sister, Debbie Russo. She’s always been my partner in crime and someone I could laugh with and tell anything. Thank you for always having my back and knowing exactly what to say when I need an ear.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As always, thank you to my hubby, Brian. And my children: Brandon, Josh, Matt and Emily.

  Thank you Christine Witthohn of Book Cents Literary Agency—agent extraordinaire! Once again, you stand by my side! I’m grateful for everything you do. And Kelly Ferrara is a cover genius!

  Thank you to my special peeps, Barbara Witek and Danielle LaBue and Liz Lipperman - my BFF’s!

  And thank you always to my extended family, the Harmons, the Russos and the Townsends. I’m a lucky woman.

  Chapter One

  “Drinking these things is not a good idea. You guys know I can’t hold my alcohol,” Samantha Darling said as she swirled a candy cane through her Peppermint Martini.

  “Oh, come on, live a little. It’s the holidays,” her elfish friend, Ellen Patterson, responded. “I mean, seriously, you never get out and play anymore. It’s been a year, babe.” She tossed back her fiery red hair and swallowed half her drink in one gulp.

  The hunky blonde bartender saluted them and refilled Ellen’s glass. He wore a Santa hat, a tight red ‘Naughty? Or Nice?’ T-shirt rolled up above his beefy arms, and faded ripped jeans that left little to the imagination.

  She winked at him with her forest green eyes then focused on Samantha. “Forget Mark’s sorry ass and move on, already.”

  “His ass is sorry, and I have moved on.” More of a wine cooler sorta gal, Samantha took a tentative sip of her own martini. The minty flavor sliding over her taste buds was surprisingly good, but her eyes watered just the same.

  “I hate to admit it, but Ellen is right, Sam,” her other friend, Amber Evans, chimed in.

  Amber was the total opposite of Ellen--Amazon tall, dark brown hair, and whiskey colored eyes. She smiled at the same hot Santa Baby, who sported a nametag that read Nick, of all things, as he set yet another martini before her with a big dimpled grin.

  When she stopped drooling, she went on. “It’s like that song playing right now. ‘Making a list, checking it twice, gonna find out who’s naughty or nice.’ You’re always so nice, but what has being nice gotten you so far? Cheated on and dumped, that’s what.”

  “Gee, thanks for reminding me.” Samantha frowned.

  “That’s our point,” Elfish Ellen said. “You’ve thrown yourself into your work and forgotten how to have fun. I’d say it’s time someone reminded you you’re still alive.”

  “Quit being so dramatic. I have not forgotten how to have fun. Why, just the other day we--”

  “Got manis and pedis. We know,” Amazon Amber added. “We mean real fun, Sam. You haven’t gone out with us in forever. It’s time you got back in the game.”

  “I don’t want to get back in the game. I’m perfectly happy being single.” Samantha took another sip of her martini, wincing a little less this time.

  Ellen slapped her palm on the bar then pointed her finger in Samantha’s face. “We love you, but you need closure, babe. If you don’t do something to move past what happened, you’re never going to be free.”

  “Closure? Puh-lease.” Samantha brushed Ellen’s finger aside. “I’m fine. It’s just...you know...today.”

  “Right,” they chimed like a mismatched set of bobsy twins with bells.

  Samantha smirked. “What is this, an intervention?”

  “Of sorts.” Amber patted her hand.

  “I’ve been okay all year until now.” Samantha sipped again in an attempt to numb herself to the significance of today. So far, it wasn’t working.

  “Mark ruined my Christmas last year. You guys know how much I love Christmas.” She met their eyes. “I really thought I’d be celebrating my first wedding anniversary right now, but here I am with only memories of him and that woman in bed together. Our bed! With festive Christmas condoms, for Christ’s sake. I carry the stupid things in my purse to remind me of what an idiot I almost married.”

  Maybe she wasn’t taking big enough sips, she thought, staring into her glass. She tipped up her drink and drained the contents without a single wince this time. The straight liquor warmed her throat on its way down to join its many friends in her belly.

  Nice. Bigger sips much better.

  “You two beauties were Barbie and Ken come to life,” Ellen said. “But just because you looked good together doesn’t mean you were good together. Personally, I never liked the guy. I mean, you seriously could have any man you want. Why not get the cheating bastard back by using those festive condoms with”--she searched the room until her gaze landed at the end of the bar--“him. Mr. Tall, Dark and Sexy who just sat down.”

  Ellen waggled her fingers at the gorgeous dark-haired man who filled out every inch of his expensive suit with what had to be a killer body. He wore a serious expression on his tan chiseled features as he talked to two other men. His dark gaze snapped to Ellen’s hand, and Amber had to add in her two cents as always by holding up her glass and pointing to Samantha.

  “Stop that.” Samantha grabbed their arms and yanked them down then met the man’s piercing stare, feeling the impact in places she hadn’t felt anything for a very long time.

  Her breath hitched. He really was gorgeous, but so big and...intimidating. Her lips tipped up in a smidgen of a smile, and she felt her blush flame over her face as she gave him a little shrug. He just arched a thick black brow
and then turned his back on them all, resuming his conversation.

  “Ouch,” Amber said.

  “Oh my God, that was so embarrassing. I can’t believe you guys just did that.” Samantha fanned her neck, feeling unbelievably hot all of a sudden. It had to be the potent martinis, she thought, sliding her empty glass away.

  “Ah, screw Tall, Dark and Stuffy,” Ellen scoffed.

  “Or not, apparently.” Amber wrinkled her nose. “Oh, well. His loss.”

  “And his loss is Mr. Hottie Bartender’s gain. He sure as hell doesn’t look stuffy or anything like a saint to me.” Ellen snickered.

  Amber jerked her head toward the bartender, raising her voice above the growing hum of conversation. “Now, that would be closure.” She sighed dreamily.

  Christmas shoppers and people getting off work had filled every available inch of the popular Boston bar known for its Friday happy hour. St. Nicky simply winked his baby blues at them and continued pouring drinks without missing a beat.

  Samantha stared at the new drink he brought her and thought, Why not. She was already too far gone to care. And, hell, her ego could use a boost after old Stuffy. For some reason he looked oddly familiar to her, but forget that. He’d shot her down, tonight of all nights. Not that she was actually interested, but still, he didn’t have to make it so blatantly obvious he wasn’t.

  Having met after work from the same advertising firm and still dressed in their suits, the women weren’t ready to go home yet. So they kept their butts planted to their stools, even though they’d been there for hours and had consumed more Peppermint Martinis than any sane person should.

  “Ya know, I’ve about had it with men. Getting the cheating bastard back is starting to sound yum-may in my tum-may.” Samantha giggled, clinking glasses with Ellen. Whoa, boy, those mint ‘tinis were kicking into overdrive now.

  “Yeah, I’ll bet ‘ole Nicky boy could jingle your bells.” Amber motioned toward the eye candy behind the bar. “He’ll help you forget all about that lump of coal ex-of-yours.”

  “No, no...no, no, no.” Samantha waved her hand in front of her face and nearly fell off her stool, which drew another intense stare from Mr. Stuffy. She mimicked his actions by arching her brow high and turning her back on him this time then tried to ignore him. Tried being the operative word as she could feel his eyes boring into her back, sending more dangerous heat to places it had no business venturing to...south of her comfort zone.

  “Anyway, I can’t use someone like that.” Samantha cleared her throat. “It’s just not in me to be mean. Besides, Mark doesn’t live in Boston anymore, so it’s not like he’d even find out.” She slurred her words, the bigger sips most definitely doing their job as the lovely little numb feeling she’d been seeking all evening hit her hard.

  “Somehow I doubt St. Nicky would mind, with the way he’s been eyeing you all night.” Amber blew him a kiss.

  “But maybe I would mind.” Samantha sipped her miraculously full drink again. “I’m just not ready to...you know.”

  “There are other ways to get closure besides sex, though I can’t think of a more pleasurable one,” Ellen pointed out.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to agree with her again,” Amber glanced at Ellen, “no offense, hon, but you do have some pretty outlandish ideas.”

  “None taken,” Ellen stated, point blank. “Sam could use a little outlandish right now.”

  “Landish, landish, bobandish. Banana, fana, fofandish. Me, my, momandish,” Samantha giggled, sweeping her hands wide as she sang the grand finale off-key, “Laaaaaan-dish.” Oh Lordy, those drinks had moved way past ‘kicking in’ to flat out taking over, because she was most definitely not herself right now.

  “Oh-kay.” Amber quirked a brow. “Just be a little naughty for a stinkin’ change, would ya? A little less goody-freakin’-two-shoes.”

  “Goody, goody, boboodie--” Samantha started, but Ellen slapped a hand over her mouth. Humph. Who knew Ellen was such a strong little elf?

  “Didn’t Mark run off with the hussy on the outskirts of town somewhere?” Ellen asked. “Oh, you know the place. Well, shoot, I can’t remember the name of the town. Do you?”

  “I don’t remember the town, either, but I do remember the hussy’s shop,” Amber answered. “Stowe’s Boutiques. It isn’t that far from here as I recall.”

  Samantha peeled Ellen’s hand from her mouth. “Yeah, so, bobo...bobobo?” She grinned at both of them, feeling a bad case of the sillies coming on. It felt good to laugh again.

  Ellen frowned. “So, bobo, go do something. Embarrass him like he did you, somehow. That way all the people he’s duped in that small town will find out what he’s really like. What could Santa possibly do to you that Mark hasn’t already done?”

  “Spank me like the bad, bad girl that I am. Whoops, did I say that out loud? Oh, my.” Samantha stifled a snort, slapping her own hand over her mouth. Damn abstinence did crazy things to her mind when under the influence, apparently.

  “Good Lord, I think we overdid it, Ellen.”

  “Overdid what?” Samantha slurred, eying them suspiciously.

  “Nothing. Just, whatever you do, don’t do it tonight, Sam. You really are a lightweight.” Amber flagged down the bartender and paid off their tab.

  “For once, I agree with her.” Ellen shook her head. “You ain’t got the balls to deck the halls, babe. At least not tonight, anyway.”

  “Awww. I really wanted to deck Mark’s balls,” Samantha said, then scrunched up her face. “That didn’t come out right, did it?”

  “Uh, not so much, but if we see Mark, we’ll gladly give him the message.” Amber helped her to her feet while Ellen called a cab. “Come on, hon, it’s time to go.”

  As they led her to the door, Mr. Tall, Dark and Stuffy followed their steps all the way, his hot eyes meeting Samantha’s at the last second with an amused albeit curious stare. She slowly looked him up and down, then stuck her nose in the air and waltzed out the door with her head held high. She could have sworn she heard him chuckle behind her.

  His loss, indeed.

  Moments later, after insisting she was fine getting home on her own and shooing her friends away, Samantha sat safely tucked in the back of a taxi with the driver asking, “Where to, ma’am?”

  The last place she wanted to go was home alone, especially tonight. She didn’t want to be safe anymore. The girls were right. Nice was safe, but safe left her cold and lonely. It was long past time she quit hiding and began living again.

  Starting tonight.

  “Meter’s running, lady. Where to?” the cabby repeated.

  She narrowed her eyes in determination, and her lips tipped up at the corners as an idea came to her. Maybe she did need closure to move forward, and she had the perfect idea for what she wanted to do with those festive condoms. Leaning back, she settled in, then slurred off, “Stowe’s Boutiques.” She might not have the balls, but she sure as hell knew a thing or two about decorating a hall.

  She was an advertising exec, after all.

  ***

  “We’re here,” said the cabby.

  Samantha startled awake from the back seat and bolted upright. Her purse was tucked under her arm; her empty martini glass still clutched firmly in her hand, and her head was spinning, big-time. She shook off the haze of the hot and steamy dream she’d been having of one Mr. Tall, Dark and Stuffy with a shiver. If he could have seen what she’d done to him in her dream, he’d kick himself for having blown her off. Not that she was interested, she reminded herself. Just sex starved and waaay too tipsy.

  “Where is ‘here’?” she asked the cabbie, glancing outside at the storefront window they’d parked in front of, then the face of another man flashed in her mind’s eye. Mr. Tall, Blonde Bonehead. “Never mind. I remember.”

  After paying the driver and instructing him to wait, she climbed out of the cab. She had no idea what time it was, but the streets were empty. The building before her looked ancient. With a town
this small, it was highly unlikely they had a security system. Besides, Mark was too cheap for that. If she could just find a way in, she planned to put her own unique spin on the Christmas window display. Show this town the woman Mark had chosen to marry was a hussy and he was a two-timing jerk, then Samantha would be gone. No one the wiser.

  Besides, it wasn’t like she would break or take anything. She would just enter and rearrange everything. No harm done, or so her inebriated brain reasoned irrationally. Which was why she normally didn’t drink.

  Samantha ignored the voice in her head that said this was wrong as she rifled through her purse until ...Aha! There it was. She pulled out a credit card, set her purse on the sidewalk, and started jimmying the lock like she’d done back in her college days when her roommate used to lock herself out of their apartment several times a week. Samantha had become pretty good at breaking in, not that she used those skills anymore. But if she was going to deck Mark’s balls--er, halls--this was the only way she could think of.

  Tires squealed behind her. She glanced over her shoulder as the cabby tore off down the street, hands flailing out the window, and a string of curses ringing through the air like jingle bells. Chicken, she thought, then shrugged and got back to work. Squinting to focus her blurry eyes, she stuck her tongue between her teeth as she worked.

  Yes! The door swung open, and a gust of frigid air followed her as she danced inside singing, “She’s making a fist, I mean, list. Checking it twa-twa-twice. La la la la who’s naughty or nice. Samantha Darling has come to your toooown.”

  Flicking on the lights, she dropped her purse and took off her coat. “You told me that you lu-lu-loved me. You said ...what was it ...oh, yeah, that I was great. You made me...how’d it go...oh, right, believe in forever. When, um, la la la you were a fake.”

  She pulled the pins from her hair and shook out her curls. “Oh, you better watch o-u-t, man. That’s right, I hope that you cry. I so wanna see you pow-out. La la telling you why. Cuz you deserve everything that’s gonna happen, you jeeeeerk!” She fell into a fit of giggles, thinking, Damn I’m good.