All He Wants for Christmas

by Karen Booth

  “One of my private planes is in a hangar down at Gray Municipal. I can get you to Mexico. Pietro, my security chief, can go with you. Once you’re in a safe place, you give us the audio recordings and we’ll transfer the money.”

  “I want you to do it. I want you to come with me.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I trust you more than I trust Pietro. You have more to lose. You’re the one who’s been chasing Victor this whole time.”

  Andrew’s thoughts hung on Sandy’s words. He did have everything to lose. If this all went down the drain with Sterling, the company would ultimately be fine. They’d find a way to move forward, make millions and Johnathon’s reputation would most likely remain intact. Yes, they would suffer the embarrassment of not landing the massive public contract they were expected to win. Miranda might ultimately forgive Andrew for things he’d done. But he would not have made peace with his brother’s memory, and he would never feel right with the world until he did that. He had to know deep in his heart that he’d done everything possible to save what Johnathon had built. “Okay. I’ll take you.”

  “I don’t want you to just fly me over the border and drop me off. I need you to take me somewhere remote. Somewhere that’s safe.”

  Andrew had traveled all over the world, but one locale he’d visited years ago had struck him as the perfect place to disappear—a tiny village tucked away in the mountains of Costa Rica. “I have an idea. I can tell you on the plane. Ping me your location? I’ll pick you up myself.”

  “Okay. Please hurry.”

  Andrew ended the call and rushed upstairs. He did not want to leave, but what choice did he have? He’d put Sandy in this situation at the very beginning. Yes, it had been her choice to side with Victor, but he couldn’t blame other people for their poor choices. He’d made too many of his own.

  Upstairs, he called Clay, and put him on speakerphone while he packed up the suitcase he’d wheeled into this house weeks ago.

  “Hey, Andrew. What’s up?” Clay asked.

  “I need you to keep an eye on your sister for the next few days.”

  “Going somewhere?”

  “Yes. I need to take care of our big problem. I think it’s best if I don’t tell you where. No idea who might be listening.”

  “Is Miranda in danger?”

  “No. I’ll have my head of security stay in San Diego. We’ll have someone with eyes on the house the whole time, but I’d feel better if you were checking in with her, too.” Andrew’s phone screen flashed a notification from the number Sandy had called from. It was her location. “I have to go. I don’t plan on checking in. I don’t want to leave any lines of communication open, okay?”

  “Got it. Good luck.”

  Andrew zipped his bag shut and thundered down the stairs, but he came to a stop when he saw the array of beautiful holiday decorations in the living room. The fireplace mantel had the lovely scene Miranda had designed—with pine boughs, red velvet ribbon and twinkly white lights. Over the doorway into the foyer was what Andrew now knew was a swag, of silver Christmas bells in various sizes and glittery garland, all artfully arranged. In the corner sat the Christmas tree, looking like something out of a magazine, with its array of carefully chosen ornaments. These things had brought Christmas spirit with Miranda’s skilled guidance, but she was what made those warm feelings come to life. He hated the thought of missing out on the next few days with her. He was supposed to be here. They’d made plans. He intended to return, but he’d had so many intentions over the years that hadn’t turned out. He really hoped that wouldn’t be the case this time. Regardless, it was time to let her know he wouldn’t be here when she arrived home from work.

  He waited until he was pulling his car out of Miranda’s driveway to make the call.

  “I feel like I just saw you,” Miranda answered. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I am, but I have to leave town for a few days.”

  “Wait. What’s wrong?”

  The distress in her voice made his task that much more difficult. “I’m within striking distance of fixing my problem.”

  “Victor? Seriously? I thought that was over.”

  “It’s not. Not completely, at least.”

  “This is starting to feel like a wild-goose chase. Is this really necessary? Can’t someone else deal with him?”

  “I started this. I have to finish it.”

  Miranda grumbled. “You don’t have to. You’ve tried everything imaginable. You’re the only one expecting this of yourself. You hold yourself to a standard that’s impossible to meet.”

  He knew he was being stubborn. It didn’t change his determination to follow through. “I know.”

  “Just this morning, we talked about spending the next few days together. You said it sounded like fun. That’s not enough to make you stay?”

  “Don’t make this harder than it already is, okay?”

  Miranda didn’t immediately say anything in return, but he could hear her breathing. “You’re definitely coming back?”

  “That’s my plan. Yes.”

  “When?”

  Andrew didn’t want to give definitive answers, but he also didn’t want to leave her hanging. He’d already saddled her with so much uncertainty over the last month or so. “I’ll be back by Christmas, okay? I promise.” He hoped like hell that nothing bad happened and that he didn’t have to break that promise. It would crush her visions of a happy holiday.

  “Will you also promise me that you’ll be careful?” Her voice was starting to crack.

  “Of course.”

  “Because I want you to come back, Andrew. I hope you know that.”

  He managed half a smile, but his heart was aching. There were so many things he wanted to say, but once again he was overwhelmed by the need to wait until the time was right. “I want to come back. I hope you know that.”

  “Okay. ’Bye. Be careful.”

  “Goodbye, Miranda.” He hit the red button to end the call before he could say what he longed to tell her... I love you.

  Thirteen

  By late afternoon on Wednesday evening, Miranda was starting to lose hope. Andrew had been gone more than forty-eight hours. Where was he and what could he possibly be doing? She picked up her phone and pulled up his number in her contacts. It rang and rang, as it had the other times she’d called since he’d left on Monday. It then went to his voice mail, just like before. The sound of his voice made her ache for his presence. “This is Andrew Sterling. Please leave a message.”

  “Hey. It’s me. I’m just calling because I’m worried and this makes me feel better. Please call or text me to let me know that you’re okay. Even just a thumbs-up emoji would be a big help.” She ended the call and tossed her phone to the other end of the couch. She was tired of feeling so helpless. The last time she’d felt like this was during the first month after Johnathon’s death, when she’d had to get used to being all alone in this big house. In some ways, she felt as though she was reliving that loss. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

  Her phone rang and she scrambled, crawling on hands and knees across the cushions and grabbing it without looking at the caller ID. “Hello? Andrew?”

  “Sorry to disappoint. It’s Tara.”

  Miranda slumped back against a pile of throw pillows, her heart practically in her throat. “Oh, it’s okay. What’s up?”

  “The city just made the announcement. Sterling landed the Seaport project.”

  Miranda struggled to understand why her first reaction was tears. Perhaps it was stress. Perhaps it was closing this chapter when Andrew wasn’t around. Sterling had made it through despite Victor’s interference. If Johnathon was still here, he would’ve been so pleased. “Congratulations. You all must be so excited.”

  “Everyone is. There’s a fair bit of relief, too.”

 
; “How are you going to celebrate?”

  “We’ll do it in January. After the holidays. After pulling a wedding together in two weeks, I’m trying to take a break from party planning.”

  “Makes perfect sense.”

  Tara hesitated on the line, which made Miranda wonder if there was more she wanted to say. “I take it you haven’t heard from Andrew?”

  “You know that he left?”

  “Yes. Clay told Grant and me. Don’t worry. We haven’t told anyone.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll be honest. I’m worried. Grant and I wanted him to take care of the situation with Victor, but from a distance. We never thought he’d get on a plane and go after him.”

  Miranda felt her blood go cold. Yes, she’d believed Andrew all this time, but it somehow made it worse that everyone else now knew that Victor was real. “Do you think he’s in danger? No one has heard from him since Monday afternoon. I don’t even know what to do now. I’m so consumed with worry.”

  “Do you want Grant to do some asking around? See what we can find out?”

  All Miranda could think about was that Andrew had wanted this all kept quiet. “No. I don’t want any of us to do anything to jeopardize his safety.” Speaking of which, Miranda probably needed to stop leaving him messages. There was no telling what sort of circumstances he was in.

  “Okay. Will you please call us when you hear from him? Andrew was right all along, and Grant and I will never stop feeling bad about it. We also feel indebted to him. His quick thinking on Monday morning kept us in the game. We got the Seaport project. Everyone gets their happy ending.”

  Except me. Miranda hated that her mind would go to such a negative place, but she couldn’t help it. “I’m so glad. Hopefully I’ll get to tell him soon.”

  “Please keep us posted.”

  “I will. ’Bye, Tara.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Miranda hung up. All this good news and it still didn’t make her feel any better.

  She worried that the obvious was staring her in the face—Andrew might not come back. She had to distract herself, so she went into the kitchen and made herself a mug of cocoa, then settled on the sofa to watch a movie. It’s a Wonderful Life was on the TV, and it had just started, showing snowy scenes in black-and-white of quaint Bedford Falls. Miranda turned the volume low. The movie was so familiar, she could recite nearly every line, but she couldn’t focus enough to watch it. Maybe Andrew was going back to Seattle and he simply couldn’t bring himself to tell her.

  That would’ve been the Andrew of old, the fictional one constructed by Johnathon and sometimes Grant and Tara. Miranda knew that wasn’t the real Andrew. The real Andrew kept his promises. He made good on everything he said he’d do. As night fell and the clock ticked closer to Christmas Eve, she continued to waver between hope and disappointment. He’d said he’d be back in time for Christmas. There weren’t many hours left until Christmas Eve would be upon them. The thought of him not showing up, in time or at all, reminded her of the many times she’d defended him. She’d always wanted to believe that he would never lead her astray or let her down. Although he’d always been thankful to have her confidence, he’d also told her that she didn’t need to do it. It had always been a gut instinct. A reflex.

  This was her connection to Andrew—immediate and visceral. Something she couldn’t explain. They’d had an invisible bond from the moment they met. Yes, it all started with Johnathon, and that fact still ate at her from time to time. How she wished she could talk to her dead husband, explain to him that her feelings for Andrew didn’t mean that she wouldn’t always love him. When the baby arrived, that feeling would likely grow. But Miranda had a big heart, one meant for giving, and also receiving. She hadn’t planned it, but she’d fallen. In love. With his brother. And she should have been smarter about it. She should have told him before he took off.

  Miranda’s phone rang. She jumped just as she had every other time over the last two days. She fought the disappointment when, once again, it wasn’t Andrew. She loved talking to her brother, but it wasn’t quite the same.

  “You don’t have to keep checking up on me,” she said without offering a hello.

  “Oh, but I do. I promised Andrew. Why don’t you come over and hang out with us? Delia would love to see you. We’re baking Christmas cookies. I’ll come and pick you up.”

  “I think I’ll stay put. Thank you, though.” The invitation truly sounded lovely and she sure could have used the distraction, but she wanted to hold on to hope, even when she wondered if her optimism wasn’t about to bite her on the butt. Sometimes things didn’t turn out okay. “I talked to Tara a little while ago. Congratulations on the Seaport project.”

  “Thanks, but it’s not really my victory. It was the whole team. And frankly, it was the wives. You three were the ones who pushed the hardest.”

  “I guess we did.”

  “You sound tired.”

  “I am. Although I don’t know why. I’ve basically been puttering around the house for two days. I haven’t done much more than worry.”

  “That can be draining in its own right,” Clay said.

  “I suppose.” Miranda took another sip of her cocoa and set the mug on the end table. “You haven’t heard from him, have you?”

  “You know I would’ve called you right away if I had, right?”

  “I know.” Of course she did. It still didn’t hurt to ask. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

  “It’s so early,” Clay noted.

  “I know. I’m super tired.”

  “Okay. We’ll see you on Christmas morning for brunch at our place?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Sleep well.”

  Miranda didn’t have the energy to walk all the way upstairs. She clicked off the TV, grabbed a throw blanket from the end of the sofa and arranged a few pillows until she was comfortable. She tried to think good thoughts as she closed her eyes and felt her body slowly giving in to sleep. How she hoped she wouldn’t be spending this Christmas alone. How she hoped she wouldn’t have to face her future without the man she loved.

  * * *

  Andrew’s plane touched down on the private landing strip at the San Diego airport, smooth as silk. He took his new phone off airplane mode. His old one had died an untimely death in Costa Rica, falling out of his pocket and into the small plunge pool of the cottage he’d found for Sandy. He still didn’t have the message he’d been waiting for from Pietro. He wasn’t going to tell Miranda that the coast was clear until he was absolutely certain that was the truth.

  He’d left his rental down at Gray Municipal when he’d left town with Sandy, so he had a driver pick him up. “Mr. Sterling. I believe you’re expecting this.” The driver handed over a small black velvet box as he held the door.

  Andrew popped it open. It was exactly as he’d remembered, even though he hadn’t looked at it in years. “Thank you.” He dropped it into his pocket and climbed inside the car. Excitement bubbled up in his body at the thought of seeing Miranda. He was nervous, too. He could imagine relief at confessing his feelings, but he could also picture several different types of rejection. She might want to wait. It was awfully soon. Her husband hadn’t been gone very long.

  Finally, Andrew’s phone buzzed in his hand. It was Pietro. “Well?” Andrew asked when he answered.

  “I’m sorry I’m a little late in calling you. His flight was delayed, but he’s off to Munich. I watched the plane take off myself.” Andrew had instructed Pietro to buy a ticket for the flight, just so he could accompany Victor through security and down to the gate.

  Andrew had never breathed such a big sigh of relief. He had a promise from Victor that he would stay in Europe for the next twelve months. Andrew had plenty of insurance to make sure Victor would keep a safe distance. Forever. “Thank you so much. I couldn’t have done this
without you.”

  “Are you on your way to Ms. Sterling’s?”

  “I am.”

  “Good luck,” Pietro said with a glint of mischief in his voice.

  “Thank you for having one of your guys track down the ring in Seattle and sending it down. I just got it.”

  “No trouble at all, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “Now that we have everything wrapped up, you and your guys are welcome to head back to Seattle.”

  “And what are your plans?” Pietro asked.

  “I don’t know. But I’m hoping that I get to stay here in San Diego.”

  “If you do, what does that mean for your operation in Seattle?”

  “I don’t know, exactly, but I do know that you’ll always have a job. Don’t worry about that.”

  “Good to know, sir. I can’t imagine working for anyone else.”

  Andrew smiled. “Good. And good night, Pietro. Job well done.”

  “Good night, sir.”

  Andrew hung up the phone. That call from Pietro had been the last thing he was waiting on before he called Miranda. They were only ten minutes from her house, but he didn’t want to hold out for even a second more. Unfortunately, the call went to her voice mail. Was she in bed already? It was only nine-thirty. None of that made sense. Hopefully, everything could be cleared up once he arrived.

  As soon as they arrived at Miranda’s, Andrew grabbed his suitcase and beelined for the front door, then put in the security code for the electronic lock. Inside, the house was so quiet. “Miranda?” he asked, setting down his bag. There was no answer.

  He spotted a soft ray of light beaming into the hall from the living room. He went to investigate, and spotted Miranda all curled up on the sofa, asleep. He crept closer, finding emotion welling up inside him. She was everything. His whole world. And he’d been tormenting himself, waiting to tell her.

  He kneeled down next to the couch and stole a moment to look at how truly beautiful she was in serene slumber. Her amazing mouth was slack, her eyelids pale and her lashes dark against her skin. Her gorgeous hair tumbled across her shoulders. He braced himself by placing a hand on her upper arm and leaning in to kiss her on her forehead. “Miranda?” he whispered as he moved back.