Christy’s mother, Elizabeth, had treated her like her own, and only once did Alix overhear her talking about it.
That poor girl. Some people shouldn’t have children.
It was the first of many Christmases she’d spent with them. Thanks to that experience, she considered herself an expert on how to create the perfect Christmas for children.
She ignored the slightly hollow feeling inside her and pointed her mascara wand at the mirror.
“You, Alix Carpenter, are a big fake. Let’s hope you’re never found out.”
She felt a wave of exhaustion.
Thank goodness for adrenaline and makeup and the promise of a vacation soon. She had two whole weeks off over Christmas. Two weeks to sleep late, ignore her phone and catch up on TV shows everyone talked about but she never had time to watch. And, most exciting of all, a whole week with Holly and Christy in Lapland.
How many times had they talked about Lapland as children?
It was a dream that had seeped into her work, and the company had recently launched an Arctic range at her suggestion. A remote-controlled wolf, a board game for the whole family that involved racing around Lapland by ski, snowmobile and sled. Meet a reindeer, go back five spaces. A night-light that shone greeny-blue aurora around the room. She’d already sent one to Holly.
Hopefully her trip would provide more inspiration for additions to the new range, but she didn’t mind if it didn’t. This was all about enjoying time with Holly and Christy. Could there be any better way to spend Christmas?
Seb would be there, too, of course, but after a rocky beginning to their relationship, they’d both moved on.
Whatever their differences, they had one big thing in common.
They both loved Christy.
Of all the challenges that friendship could bring, the one Alix hadn’t expected was that her closest friend would marry a man she didn’t like.
Alix frowned. No, it wasn’t that she didn’t like Seb. More that she didn’t trust him. She’d known him vaguely before Christy had met him. He’d frequented the same fashionable bar that she often went to after work, where the crowd was the usual predictable mix of stressed city workers. They’d never been interested in each other, but she’d been aware of his reputation with women, so when he and Christy had been attracted like magnets the first time they’d met, she’d been concerned. Concern had turned to alarm when Christy had announced shortly after that she was pregnant and intended to marry him. What should have been a fun, casual evening had turned into forever.
But if rumor was correct, Seb Sullivan didn’t do forever.
And she’d felt guilty and more than a little responsible because Christy would never have met Seb if it hadn’t been for Alix.
She’d done everything she could to talk her friend out of it, which hadn’t exactly endeared her to Seb or to Christy or to the best man—although that was a whole other story—but at the time that hadn’t mattered. She’d been trying to save her friend from making a terrible mistake. What was friendship if it wasn’t looking out for someone you loved? Being straight about the things that mattered? Christy’s happiness mattered to her, but Christy had decided that happiness had meant marrying Seb.
Fortunately that little blip hadn’t damaged their friendship, and Alix knew nothing ever would. Their bond was unbreakable. It was true that she felt a little squeezed out by Christy’s relationship with Seb, but she had to admit that, so far, the marriage seemed to be working out. Seb was a good father, and he seemed to love Christy. He’d embraced Christy’s dream of moving to a cottage in a small country village. Alix hadn’t been able to imagine Seb spending his weekends going on muddy walks or enjoying a pint in the local pub, but apparently she’d misjudged him, because they’d been in the cottage for eighteen months, and everything seemed to be going well.
Alix had never been happier to be wrong.
Behind her hung the dress she’d bought that afternoon in a half-hour break between meetings. It was silver, high in the neck, and fitted her perfectly. Not black. Not businesslike. But she had to admit that she loved it. It was even a little festive, and if you couldn’t sparkle in Manhattan in December, then when could you?
Sure that Christy would approve, she slid on the dress.
On impulse she snapped a selfie and typed a message to Christy.
Followed your advice. New dress. I’m going to look like something that fell off a Christmas tree.
She paused before she sent it, weighing up whether she should or not. There had been a time when she never would have asked herself that question. She and Christy had messaged each other multiple times a day in an almost nonstop conversation, but that had changed when Christy had married Seb. Christy’s messages had become less frequent. And that was to be expected, of course. Her friend was married. Busy. But it had made Alix self-conscious about the messages she sent, too. How many was too many? Especially after her phone call. Was she intruding? Unsure, Alix had tried to scale back her contact.
She pressed Send, feeling a little awkward at overthinking something so simple as messaging her friend over a dress. In all other parts of her life, including her work, she was decisive and confident.
Pathetic.
She picked up her purse, took one last glance at herself and headed out the room.
She didn’t care much about the dinner or the ceremony, but she was looking forward to seeing other members of her team. She never forgot that this was a team effort, and she worked with good people.
Lonely? No way.
She was sliding into the car that had been booked for her when she realized Christy hadn’t replied. But with a five-hour time difference, that probably wasn’t surprising. Her friend was probably already deeply asleep.
Remembering their conversation earlier that day, she squashed down the flicker of concern. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, but if that was the case then Christy would have told her. Maybe they didn’t share every single little thing that happened in their lives anymore or talk as often as they used to, but they still shared the big things.
She leaned back in her seat, enjoying the moment. Manhattan during the day was fun, interesting and exciting, but at night it was spectacular.
She didn’t quite understand why, but every time she landed in this city she felt as if she’d made it.
She’d survived her ice-cold childhood and built a life for herself. No one knew what lay behind her. No one cared.
Her phone beeped, and she checked it, expecting Christy, and saw a message from her mother.
Won’t be back in London for Christmas, but money wired to your account. Fiona.
Alix stared at the message and then rolled her eyes.
Hi, darling, have a great Christmas. Love, Mum.
Fat chance.
She imagined her mother’s assistant tentatively putting her head round the door of Fiona’s chaotic office. A reminder to send a gift to your daughter, Professor Carpenter. Her mother would have been irritated by the interruption.
She was relieved and a little proud that she felt nothing. There had been a time when a message like that would have ruined her day, but she was made of tougher stuff now. She’d worked hard to achieve this level of emotional control. Feelings, strong feelings, were inconvenient at best, painful at worst, and she made a point of avoiding them. It made life so much easier, so much smoother, that frankly she didn’t understand why more people didn’t do it. Only last week she’d had to support her assistant through an emotional crisis when her boyfriend had ended the relationship. Alix had handed her a tissue, given her the rest of the day off and refrained from pointing out that if she stayed single nothing like this would ever happen again.