“Thanks.” He lowered the bottle. “Holly asleep?”
“Yes. She tried to stay awake for you.”
He pulled a face. “I hate missing story time.”
Does Mandy know you have a daughter waiting for you to kiss her good-night?
“Dinner is spoiled, but there’s soup in the fridge that I can heat up.”
“No need.” He yanked at his tie and undid his top button. “I grabbed something before I jumped on the train. Are you okay? You seem tense.”
“Tense? I’m not tense. I’m fine.” She could hardly breathe. Had he eaten with her? Candles? Laughter? Had they held hands? “There’s cheese in the fridge. Fresh grapes.”
“Nothing, thanks.” He finished the beer and put the bottle down. He was silent for a long moment and then he looked at her. “We need to talk, Christy.”
What? No! No, they didn’t. Not now. Not right before Christmas.
“You must be tired, so I thought maybe we could light a fire and watch a movie, or—”
“Christy.” His voice was sharper. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
And she didn’t want to hear it. Not now. Maybe not ever. She hadn’t decided about that part.
“There’s really no need to—”
“There is a need. I know you hate talking about difficult things, but this can’t be avoided.”
Did she hate talking about difficult things? Yes, she did. But avoidance was a perfectly valid way of coping, and if he knew that was her preference, why then was he forcing her to confront something she’d probably rather ignore?
“Seb—”
“I need to talk. There is something I need to tell you. And you’re not going to like it.”
Her heart punched a hole in her ribs, and her knees turned liquid. She wanted to stop him talking, but obviously he had no intention of doing that, so all she could do was breathe and get through it.
“What?”
He took a deep breath. “I can’t come with you to Lapland. At least, not immediately. Not when we planned.” He stood still, his shoulders tense as he braced himself for her reaction. “There’s a meeting I have to attend on the Tuesday.”
“A…meeting?” That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. She’d expected a confession about a woman. Bad choices. I made a mistake, but I hope you’ll forgive me.
“I know you’ll be disappointed. This is your dream trip. And it’s Christmas, and I know how you feel about Christmas.”
He knew how she felt about Christmas, but he was going to ruin it for her, anyway.
“Are you telling me you’re not coming to Lapland?”
“I’m still coming, but a few days later. I’ll change my flight. You go ahead without me.”
Without him? This was a family holiday! A special trip Holly would hopefully remember happily for the rest of her life. How could that happen if her daddy wasn’t there? How could it be a family trip without Seb? Which part of that didn’t he understand?
Emotion clogged her throat. “You’re saying you have to work at Christmas.”
“Not over Christmas itself. But at the beginning of our trip, yes. And believe me, I’m no happier about it than you are.”
She didn’t believe him. If he wasn’t happy, why was he doing it?
“What is this meeting? You work with a team. Can’t you delegate?”
“No. I’m the only one who can do this meeting. It’s tough out there, and I don’t have a choice.” He didn’t look at her, and that felt significant. He’d always been good with eye contact. It was one of the many things that had attracted her to him in the first place. He looked at her. He saw her.
But not now. He wasn’t looking at her. He wasn’t coming to Lapland with them. Apparently he had no choice.
There was always a choice.
Work? Did he really expect her to believe that? He was good at his job: that she believed. He’d been promoted several times. But no one was indispensable. And if it was work, then who was Mandy, and why was he lying about meeting her?
Panic froze her ability to think. Alix’s warning kept playing on a loop in her head, and she could no longer switch it off.
How well do you really know him? He’s a player.
Was that true? Had Alix been right?
And what did she do now?
Did she fly to Lapland without him and hope that whatever it was fixed itself in her absence, or did they disappoint Holly, stay home and confront the problem?
Either way, it seemed Christmas was ruined.
3
Alix
Was she happy with her life? What sort of a question was that? And why had Christy asked it?
She loved her life. She loved her apartment in London, with its views over the river. She loved the fact that she had her huge, comfy bed all to herself. She didn’t sleep on one side, waiting for someone to fill the other side. She slept in the middle. If she wanted to read in the night, she turned the light on. Her fridge was full of her favorite food, her shelves stocked with her favorite books. Most of all she loved her job—every glorious, challenging, frustrating, stimulating minute of it. Lonely? As if!
Alix stood in front of the mirror in the luxurious hotel bathroom and carefully applied her makeup.
She particularly loved her job right now, when she had a few minutes to reflect on the success of the Christmas advertising campaign she’d spearheaded the year before. She’d even made her boss smile, and that had only happened twice in the whole time she’d been VP of Marketing for Dream Toys.
She’d spent the past two days at head office on Fifth Avenue, listening to presentation after presentation, drinking endless cups of bad coffee to keep herself awake. A significant amount of their business was now online, and it was the work of Alix and her team that had helped drive sales steadily upward. What a year they’d had! While many businesses were struggling, theirs was soaring, thanks to careful curating of their range and Alix’s skill at spotting a winner and making it top of the wish list of every child.
Her year had culminated in the launch of the campaign for the holiday season, and that was the reason she was here now, heading to the awards dinner.
Campaign of the Year.
At work they called her the Queen of Christmas. They barreled into her office, asking her questions about the holiday season, seeking her opinion. It made Alix laugh to think they considered her an expert on all things festive. She knew toys, but that was it. Everything she knew about the holiday itself she’d learned from watching and listening. She had no personal experience of a family Christmas. She didn’t know how it felt to gather together as a family to celebrate. Her parents had divorced when she was six, and for a few painful years after that she’d been shuttled between them like an unwanted Christmas gift. If you take her this year, I’ll have her next year. She was pretty sure if they could have sent her back for a refund, they would have done it.
Christmas had been a tense time for all until the year they’d both had to travel abroad for work and had asked Christy’s mother to take Alix.
In Christy’s warm, cozy home, she’d experienced her first family Christmas, and the fact that it hadn’t been with her own family didn’t matter. She’d sat under their enormous tree and stared in wonder at the glittering ornaments. She’d helped in the kitchen, eaten at the table, played games and joined them on long winter walks. She’d even had her own stocking: red with a bow and stuffed with thoughtful presents.