by Zoe Ann Wood
Give Me a Christmas
Billionaires Abroad
Zoe Ann Wood
Copyright © 2019 by Zoe Ann Wood
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Developmental Edit by Jolie Vines
Line Edit by Emmy Ellis
Proofreading by Lori Parks
Cover by Elle Thorpe
Created with Vellum
For my little boys, who taught me
to see the magic in Christmas again.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
One
Iris
Cambridge, Massachusetts, December 17
Iris stared at her best friend in concern and passed her a box of tissues.
“Sam, are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
Samantha shook her head vigorously and succumbed to another coughing fit. Iris cringed; the sounds coming from Sam’s lungs told her without a shadow of a doubt that her friend was in no shape to travel anywhere.
“You need to pack,” Samantha gasped finally and blew her nose. “I have everything I need.” She pointed at the coffee table, which was laden with a number of medicine packets.
Iris picked one up. “Are these the antibiotics?”
Samantha nodded. “The doc said I should be all right in a week.” She looked at Iris, her shoulders slumped. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose red, and her forehead had a sweaty sheen to it from her fever.
Iris gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I still think we should postpone this thing. Cut our losses and repeat in January, when you’re healthy again.”
They were about to leave for a week of skiing in Switzerland—they’d booked a small chalet in Zermatt, a last-minute offer they’d snapped up cheap. This meant both the plane ticket and their deposit for the chalet were nonrefundable, which was why Samantha insisted Iris should go without her.
“No. You’re going to fly to Switzerland, ski during the day, and meet a nice Swiss gentleman who will take you out for dinner every night of your vacation. You will kiss him, and he will ask you to stay with him, but you’ll break his heart and return to me and tell me all about it.”
Iris snorted with laughter. “I love how delusional you are.” She patted her friend on the shoulder. “I’ll use the evenings to work on my grant proposal, I think. I need to finish it by the end of January.”
Samantha groaned and coughed again. The doctor had told her that her bronchitis, compounded by completely stuffed sinuses, would cause her excruciating head pain if she were to attempt to fly to Europe, and that she was in serious danger of getting pneumonia if she didn’t rest and take care of herself.
“I tried booking an earlier return flight,” Iris told her. “But they’re too expensive. I won’t return until the twenty-eighth.”
They’d planned on celebrating Christmas together in the beautiful embrace of the Swiss Alps. Samantha had no family to visit; she’d been a foster kid who hadn’t had much luck with her foster parents but managed to emancipate herself at sixteen and went on to achieve one academic success after another. She and Iris met on their first day of grad school at MIT, both intent on studying ecology, and they’d lived together on and off for the next eight years.
Iris had family who wanted her to visit for Christmas, but she had no intention of going to her parents’ house in Providence. If she wasn’t flying to Switzerland, she would have stayed in Cambridge with Samantha or driven up to Portland to spend the holidays with her sister and her wife.
Now her bestie was going to spend Christmas all alone.
“I’m not going,” Iris announced. It pained her to say it, since she’d already planned their days on the magnificent slopes and lots of cozy evenings. But friendship trumped all that. “I’ll stay here and make you chicken soup. We’ll watch all the Hallmark movies, and if you’re well enough, we can get my grandpa to come over for Christmas dinner.”
Samantha fixed her with a glare. It was an impressively scary glare that she accentuated by pointing an accusing finger at Iris. “You’re not staying.”
She crossed her arms on her chest, a stubborn queen lying in the midst of jewel-colored couch cushions. Somehow, her disease had leached her of substance, and for the first time ever, Iris thought her friend looked tired.
“But—” Iris protested.
“No.” Samantha cut her off. “You’re not using me as an excuse to remain at home. I won’t be your enabler. You will go to Switzerland, or so help me, I’ll invite your mother for a visit. At your place.”
Iris narrowed her eyes. “That was a low blow, Sam. You dislike her as much as I do.”
Samantha didn’t break her stare. “That’s what will happen if you quit now.”
“Ugh!” Iris flopped back on the couch. A couple of wadded-up tissues rolled to the floor. “You’re unreasonable.”
“I promise to text all the time.” Sam gentled her voice. “And you’ll be able to relax and sleep and maybe meet some new people.” She nudged Iris with her shoulder. “You know what? I’m sure they have beekeeping enthusiasts in Switzerland.”
Iris grinned. “It’s December. I don’t think beekeepers are very active now.”
Her own bees were hibernating in her garden at the moment. They were the reason why she’d moved away from this city apartment to the suburbs, where she could afford rent on a tiny house with enough backyard to set up several hives. Her PhD and all her research focused on honeybees and making sure the world knew how important they were for the survival of the planet.
Samantha yawned and sniffed. She required sleep, and Iris really did need to go home and pack. If she wanted to visit her grandpa in the morning before her flight, she would have to leave early.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” she asked Sam. “Or at least call someone to come check on you? Get you groceries so you don’t have to go out in the cold?”
Her friend waved her away. “Nope. You can’t worry about me all the time. You brought me enough food to last until the new year.”
Iris pulled her into a hug. “I’ll miss you.”
“Gah!” Samantha squeezed her tight, then pushed her away. “Don’t touch me, or you’ll get all my germs. Go, go!”
Iris left her at the apartment and took the train home. In the crowded compartment full of late Christmas shoppers, she checked her email for any urgent messages and grimaced at the sight of her mother’s name in her work inbox.
Iris, your father and I expect you home for lunch on Christmas Day. It will just be the three of us, but after, we might have tea with the Thorntons. Therese said Finn was home for the holidays. Wear something nice, not that old dress you put on the last time.
Iris shivered. Finn. That was a name she’d worked to forget, and it hadn’t popped up on her radar for a while now. She’d weaned herself off checking his social media accounts—not that he ever posted anything—and was living her life happily Finn-free.
Yet another reason to pack her bags and hi
ghtail it over the Atlantic.
But this was how her mother communicated with her, even though Iris had made it clear, several times over, that she would not be home for Christmas.
Mom, I’m going to Europe and returning on the 28th. Have a lovely Christmas! Say hi to Dad for me.
She wasn’t careless enough to tell them exactly where she was going; who knew what they would do with the information. If she’d been on the fence about leaving for Switzerland and worried about Samantha, this pushed her firmly over the edge. She was leaving the States, escaping yet another miserable Christmas spent at her parents’ house, trying to ignore the sadness that her older sister, Violet, wasn’t welcome at home.
Iris had given up trying to convince her parents to change their minds about Violet’s relationship. Their beliefs were deep-seated and unchanging. But that didn’t mean she had to pretend everything was fine and play the dutiful daughter while they pretended they only had one child.
She wasn’t dependent on them anymore, and her research and teaching position at MIT afforded her enough freedom to be able to make decisions like this. Her sister had invited her over to spend the holidays with her and her wife, but it was their first Christmas as a married couple, so Iris didn’t want to intrude.
The farther she got from her parents, the happier she would be. She’d even considered taking a job abroad, but that would mean abandoning her grandpa, and she wasn’t about to do that.
But she could escape for a week or two. She’d earned the rest, and she would get some good work done on the grant proposal that might even help change the conservation status of bees. And if any handsome locals she met on the slopes wanted to take her out for dinner, she might say yes, just so she had a story to tell Sam when she returned.
Iris turned off the email notifications on her phone and tucked it back into her purse. She was officially on vacation.
Two
Finn
Providence, Rhode Island, December 19
Finn was going to lose his mind. It was inconceivable that his mother and father had this many friends and relatives, and yet here he was, sitting through yet another holiday dinner party, stuck between Auntie Andrea and Cousin Rick, answering prying questions that bordered on a CIA-level investigation.
“Explain to me how cryptocurrencies work again,” Auntie Andrea commanded, her voice rising above the general noise of the gathered guests. “Ed tried to convince me that you can buy things with them, but they sound like pretend money to me.”
Finn closed his eyes for a moment, praying for a small disaster to occur so he could escape. Maybe someone could spill gravy all over the tablecloth. If he nudged the gravy boat a little, it just might tip over…
He caught his mother’s glance across the table, and she gave him a small, happy smile before turning back to her conversation with her sister.
Finn gritted his teeth, turned to his aunt, and said, “You can definitely buy things with them. I bought my car with bitcoin.”
Andrea gasped and declared she didn’t understand what was wrong with good old dollars.
He had this same conversation every time people learned how he’d made his fortune. Cryptocurrencies were considered arcane knowledge among some people, and he had a distinct feeling that his relatives thought he was doing something illegal.
The fact was that he’d bought his first bitcoin on a whim, as a fun way to try something new. And then, when he’d begun to suspect just how lucrative the currency could be, he’d sold his old car and bought some more. The investment had paid off a thousand times over, literally. That was the money that had allowed him to build his career.
From there, he’d formed several successful IT startups based in Silicon Valley, investing in his own companies before he sold them off at a tidy profit. He worked with medical centers all around the country to supply data-analysis software that helped doctors with identifying and diagnosing illnesses from Alzheimer’s to diabetes.
But none of it mattered now, because there was no money in the world that could fix his mother’s condition.
Finn placed his cutlery on the plate and removed his napkin from his lap. He’d suddenly lost his appetite, the steak and green beans unfinished on his plate. He caught his mother’s eye again, and she frowned in concern. She’d never voice her thoughts in company, but she repeatedly told him he should be taking better care of himself, that he’d lost some weight.
It was the worst kind of irony, her worrying about him. Sleepless nights had taken their toll on him, but she was the one with a terminal cancer.
Finn picked up his fork and speared some more beans. If eating his dinner would make her less concerned about him, then he’d eat it all, and get seconds.
But he hated the holiday cheer, the people visiting, when he knew that all the while, his mother was saying goodbye to her friends and relatives. She might not see another Christmas, she’d said, so she’d invited everyone over.
Of course, she hadn’t told anyone how bad her illness really was—and she’d forbidden Finn and his father from doing so. “I don’t want people to pity me,” she’d said. “There’s nothing to be pitied for. I had good, long years with the love of my life, and my son’s a handsome, successful man. What more could I want?”
Finn forced the thought away and focused on the conversation at hand. His mother wanted him to act as though nothing was wrong, so that was what he’d do.
It took another two hours for everyone to clear out, and by that time, Finn’s mother was visibly exhausted. Finn’s father escorted her up the stairs and helped her get ready for bed. He returned downstairs, where Finn was helping Mrs. Morris, the housekeeper, put away the leftovers.
Mrs. Morris was Finn’s idea; when he’d visited last year, he could see his mother was struggling to cope with the demands of their house. Now the middle-aged woman was an indispensable part of their household, and Finn was more than happy to pay for her salary. His parents had gotten better at accepting his help over the years. He’d paid for all his mother’s treatments after insurance no longer covered them, and he would have done more, but there was nothing more to be done.
Mrs. Morris left with a wave and a “Merry Christmas,” leaving behind a spotless kitchen. She was leaving for holidays with her family, so Finn would be taking up a fair share of her duties over the next days. He didn’t mind—he didn’t have any work obligations he couldn’t postpone.
His company was being run by his assistants, and while he had to check in daily and do some video conferences, he had full confidence in his crew. So much, in fact, that he’d considered selling the self-sufficient startup. He was no longer needed there, and giving up that part of his workload would mean he could even move permanently to the East Coast. He could rent an apartment here…
He glanced at his dad, looking for signs of fatigue in him. It seemed to him that his father had aged ten years since the last time Finn saw him.
His dad poured himself a glass of milk from the fridge and turned to Finn. “Your mom wants to talk to you,” he informed him. “You should go up now before she falls asleep.”
Finn clapped his dad on the back. “All right. Do you want to go for a walk tomorrow?”
They were both so focused on Finn’s mother’s condition that his father’s health and emotional state often went forgotten. But Finn knew this was taking a lot out of his dad, so he’d resolved to spend more time with him, try to take his mind off what was happening.
His father gave him a tired smile. “That would be nice.”
Finn went to his mother. She was sitting in her bed, propped up by a wall of pillows, reading a book. When he walked into her bedroom, she took off her reading glasses, placed them and the book on her bedside table, and patted the bed.
Finn grinned and sat next to her. He inhaled the soft scent of freshly washed sheets, memories of his childhood flooding back in. He wished he’d taken more time over the past years to spend with his parents, but he couldn’t turn back time.
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He was here now and would be staying…until the end.
His mom took his hand in hers and put her head on his shoulder. She’d removed her wig, and as Finn kissed the top of her head, her wispy gray hair tickled his nose.
“Finn,” she said, her voice strong but quiet.
He cleared his throat before he trusted himself to speak. “Yeah?”
“I need you to do me a favor.”
“Anything.”
His mother straightened and looked at him. Her eyes, a deep brown like his, were now lined with wrinkles, but most of those lines had come from smiling. She remained positive in the face of her illness.
“I want you to go to Switzerland and bring Iris Eastwood home for Christmas.”
Finn jerked back and dropped his mother’s hand. “What?”
His mother raised her eyebrows. “Are you okay?” A slight smile tugged up a corner of her mouth.
Finn composed his expression. “Why would you want that?”
She shrugged. “She’s a darling girl, and I haven’t seen her in ages. I want to see her.”
“And you can’t wait for her to return home on her own? Has she moved there or what?”
He hadn’t heard anything of the sort. Not that he kept tabs on Iris. She was none of his concern.
“Her mother was beside herself when she learned that Iris had taken off for a vacation all on her own. Her friend caught some bug right before departure, apparently, and Iris went there alone. Who knows what could happen to her!”
Ah. Finn sat back, leaning against the pillows. “So it’s not you I’d be doing a favor for but Jasmine Eastwood.”
