Bad Santa

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Bad Santa Page 6

by Mia Madison


  “No. Because you might get me back when you marry Flynn.”

  I have to laugh. “That would be stretching things an awful long way for a long-time commitment phobe. Let’s just say so far, so good, and leave it there.”

  We end the call and I get ready to go to Flynn’s place. I can’t wait to see him tonight. I’m going to let myself in and wait for him to get back from work when his shift finishes at seven.

  He’s always telling me how sexy he thinks I am, but he ain’t seen nothing yet. I bought a camisole in pale oyster silk, edged with lace and matching French panties. I laugh, thinking how his eyes are going to bug out of his face when he starts peeling off my clothes, especially when he finds out I’m wearing the camisole with no bra under my sweatshirt and jeans.

  His place is as stylish and beautiful as ever, mainly tidy. I say hello to Jackson, who greets me like an old friend, pick up the mail and put it on the kitchen counter, stash a couple of breakfast things from the kitchen sink into the dishwasher, and then there’s nothing to do but switch on the TV, cozy up with Jackson and wait.

  I text Flynn to let him know I’m there. He might not get my message while he’s driving, but it doesn’t really matter. He only works ten minutes away. He answers my text anyway. “Can’t wait. Just leaving.”

  I can’t help smiling thinking about his reaction when he sees me, but first, there’s a knock at the door. I answer, Jackson at my heels, his hackles raised.

  There’s a woman standing there. An attractive woman in a red coat, not a hair out of place, made up to the nines and smelling like a department store beauty counter. For some reason my heart sinks.

  “Hi,” she says, “I’m Karen. I live in the cottage down the lane. And you are?”

  She holds out her hand. Her nails are long with red polish to match her coat, and I want to hide my hands behind my back, but politeness prevails, and I shake her hand and tell her my name.

  “I think I’ve seen you a few times around here,” she says. “Did you move in? Flynn didn’t tell me about you.”

  I bet he didn’t. “No, I live in town.” I don’t want to discuss anything with her. I just want her to go before Flynn gets back. She makes me feel dowdy in a way that even my expensive new underwear can’t cure. In fact, that’s starting to feel like a mistake.

  “He probably hasn’t mentioned me either. You know what he’s like.” She continues, “I called to invite him to a Valentine’s Party I’m having next week. You could come too. That’s if you’re still around.”

  “Okay then, thanks.” But no thanks. It’s pretty clear she doesn’t expect me to turn up.

  “Great place he has here, doesn’t he?” she says, indicating the hall, which is as stunning as his living room. “A man like Flynn needs someone stylish, sophisticated even, don’t you think?” Her glance down at my outfit, the curl of her mouth at the edges, is barely perceptible, but it’s there. Enough for me to feel like crap on the end of a shoe.

  Flynn’s car turns into the lane. “I think that’s him,” she says, her eyes lighting up, as if she can’t wait for him to arrive.

  CHAPTER 22

  Flynn

  When I get home, Karen is there, though Rachel hasn’t invited her in, thank fuck. Karen has been knocking at the door since I moved in a few years ago, hopeful of making it across the threshold. I should have known things were getting too peaceful.

  Jackson barks and leaps up when he sees me, but it looks like there’s no love lost between Rachel and Karen as they stand at the door.

  “Flynn,” Karen says in the simpering way of hers that I don’t like. “I brought you this. It’s a party invitation. I know you like parties.”

  I take the perfumed envelope she’s holding out to me. “Thanks. I just got home from work, so I’ll let you know.”

  When I don’t invite her in, she leaves, but Rachel just turns and goes inside without the kind of greeting she would normally give me. What the fuck? And there I was, looking forward to getting home.

  “When did you go out with her?” Rachel says.

  “What?”

  “She obviously felt like she had some claim on you.”

  “I didn’t, and she doesn’t.”

  “She invited me to her party, too.” She indicates the envelope I threw down onto the hall table. “But she doesn’t expect me to be around. She made that obvious. What makes her think so? Seems to me like she knows all about you, and that she thought she’d be welcome. I thought you told me you had never invited other women here.”

  Oh, that’s Rachel’s problem. “I told you, I never had anyone other than friends here. Karen’s not a friend. She’s been hinting for a while for me to take her out, and she invited me on a date once, and I told her no. There’s no need to be jealous of Karen.”

  “Why did you say no? She’s an attractive woman. It never stopped you with anyone else.”

  “She lives too close. It would be awkward.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize that’s the wrong answer to give first, even though it isn’t the only reason.

  “Is that all? So you do like her.”

  “I never looked at Karen twice.”

  “Only once.”

  “Stop it, Rachel. You’re being ridiculous. You’re not going to her stupid party, but then neither am I.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want you to have to go with ridiculous me. Is there someone more glamorous you’d like to take? If not, I’m sure Karen would be delighted if you didn’t take anyone at all.”

  I try to hold her, but she shakes me off.

  “What’s this really about?” I ask.

  “I just can’t do this again. You’ll be telling me next it’s all in my imagination, and you’re just good friends.”

  “We’re not even that. Karen’s a neighbor, an acquaintance, nothing more.”

  “She seems to think she knows you better than that. How you need someone stylish and sophisticated to match your house, which by the way you told me no other women had seen. Someone stylish and sophisticated like her.”

  “Stop it. You’re just talking crazy now. She hasn’t even been right inside my house.” It’s as if Rachel can’t stop herself.

  “Oh, right. I’m crazy, am I? I’ve heard that one before as well. Right before I found out I wasn’t so crazy after all.”

  She picks up her coat. “I’m going home.”

  “Don’t go.”

  “If you need some company, I’m sure Karen will oblige.”

  Now Rachel really is going off the rails. “I’ll call you when you’ve had a chance to calm down,” I say.

  She shoots me a look making me wish I hadn’t said that. “Don’t bother,” she says. “I am calm. Calmly going home,” and she walks out the door.

  I’m stunned for a moment when she leaves. What was that all about? I get her ex always made her think she was in the wrong for doubting him. But fucking hell! Women. I haven’t done a thing. Even saying that, I know it wouldn’t bother me if another woman walked out in a mood. This is different.

  CHAPTER 23

  Rachel

  As I drive down the lane, Karen is sauntering along back to her cottage. She waves and smiles like the cat who got the cream. Bitch! And I crunch the gears in my old Mini Cooper, driving like a dork.

  It’s only when I get home that I allow myself to cry. Then I pull myself together, because all this is my own stupid fault, letting Karen wind me up over what’s probably nothing at all. Jealous, me? Yes, I am, I admit it, but only when it comes to Flynn.

  I call him to apologize, but he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even call me back, not in ten minutes as he usually does if he can’t pick up his phone right away. He hasn’t even called me back by eleven, when he knows I’d usually go to bed if we’re not together.

  Did I wreck everything by walking out and telling him not to bother to call? As easily as that? Maybe he’ll use my “craziness” to talk himself out of our relationship. Lasting as long as we did might be
a record for him, but it’s not long enough for me. I don’t want this to be the end.

  Luckily, Lisa is there when I need her. She’s always there for me.

  I call and tell her what happened. “You told me no one ever lasted more than a month with him, but I stopped believing it,” I say.

  “After a few weeks, I didn’t believe it either,” she says. “You two get along so well. He’ll call you in the morning. Just sit tight, sleep on it, and it will all be better by then.”

  “What if he doesn’t call?”

  “He will. But if he doesn’t, try his number again. Don’t let it go just like that. You two are too good together to let pride get in the way.”

  I go to bed with my phone by my side, willing him not to think about the time and just to call and put my mind at rest, but he doesn’t. He sends a text, “At work. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  There’s no reassurance in that. It’s so basic. He must have had to go into the station, but is he going tell me it’s over between us when he does finally call?

  At some point, I drift into sleep, and when I wake up, it takes me a moment to remember what’s going on and it hits me like a truck. This might be the end of the road for us.

  Do I swallow my pride and go to his place this morning? What if Lisa is wrong, and he means to finish things? The thought of bumping into Karen on her way to work, or her passing Flynn’s door, seeing me knocking and being sent away, my tail between my legs, is enough to stop me doing that.

  CHAPTER 24

  Flynn

  I get home exhausted after a long night. I thought I was just filling in for Paul’s shift on a quiet night again, but there were several call outs, and two emergencies. Every guy on the crew was needed, and some others were called in as backup.

  But I need to contact Rachel before I sleep. She’ll be upset about Paul’s boy having a relapse. We’ve been to the hospital twice since the Christmas party with the dog and rabbit costumes.

  It makes me smile to think of her in her rabbit costume—and how she said it had better not be the Playboy bunny type. I said it might cheer up the dads.

  But it’s me who needs cheering up right now. It’s the first time we’ve had any kind of falling out. I have to make her see her jealousy over Karen is unfounded. I don’t even like the woman. But it wouldn’t matter if I did, I don’t want anyone but Rachel. I just have to make her see that.

  When I contact her, all I get is her voicemail. I leave a message to say I called. And then I don’t leave it to chance. Tired as I am, I go around to her place.

  She lets me in. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I just got back from seeing Lisa and got your message. I made a fuss about nothing yesterday. It’s just what I went through last year makes it difficult to trust again. I know that’s no excuse, but…”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say, happy to have her back in my arms. I’m aware the wedding day she had planned with her ex is coming up soon. That can’t be easy. “You’re the one who matters. And that ex of yours, I’d like to slug him for what he did to you, and how he made you feel, as well as shake his hand for letting you go.”

  She smiles. “Deep down I know you’re nothing like Patrick. I just have to learn that. What happened to you last night, anyway? I thought you didn’t have to work yesterday.”

  I tell her about Robbie and hold her while she sheds a tear.

  “Do you think he’ll get out of the hospital eventually?” she asks.

  “I don’t know, baby. I don’t know. I just hope he gets better. There’s a lot they can do these days.”

  “You look exhausted. Do you want to sleep here to save you driving home?” she offers.

  So that’s what I do. And when I wake up, hours later, she’s there in bed beside me, dozing, waiting.

  And I show her how much I missed her yesterday.

  CHAPTER 25

  Rachel

  It’s good to be in Flynn’s arms again. It’s like we dodged a bullet. A bullet coming from my own stupid gun. Self-inflicted wounding.

  I have to be sure not to get stupidly jealous again. It’s not Flynn’s fault Patrick did the dirty on me. They are nothing alike. I have to remember that.

  And poor Robbie. While I’ve been fretting over nothing at all, the little one is in the hospital. Again.

  Flynn has to work nights this week, but he says he has something special planned for the evening on Valentine’s Day and that I shouldn’t arrange anything else. As if I would. The day I was dreading six months ago, I’m now looking forward to. Because of him.

  I take the day off to look my best for Flynn. It’s Friday, and we both have the weekend free. He wants me to spend it all at his place, so I pack a bag.

  Valentine’s Day starts with an enormous bouquet and chocolates delivered to my door by a harassed florist. And later, there’s a card in the mail. Two cards, in fact, a funny one and a loving one. And throughout the day, there are texts reminding me he’s thinking of me and he’ll see me later. But he’s not the only one who can plan surprises.

  He’s always said the only thing missing from his place was the smell of baking, the kind his mother used to do when he was a kid, so he’s getting a cake, a heart-shaped chocolate cake. I load all the ingredients into my car. And an apron. If I get up the nerve, I’ll serve up the cake in just the apron, but I’m not sure about that yet. Dare I do that? For him?

  I have a good couple of hours before he comes home from work. Time enough to make a cake and work up the courage.

  As I park the car outside his place, I glance along the lane. I must have been crazy to get ideas about Karen and her stupid party. We’ll be having a party of our own instead. All weekend. Probably in bed. I hug that thought to myself.

  But when I get out of the car, Flynn is coming out of Karen’s place, and she’s hugging him, nothing like an acquaintance or even a friend. I stand there in shock, remembering other hugs I wasn’t supposed to see, and touches Patrick told me were just my imagination in overdrive. All those lies! And then the devastating sight of my fiancé and my friend doing things in our bed he’d never done with me.

  Neither Karen nor Flynn notices me. But when I get back in my car and shut the door, Flynn looks up, and my appearance at the wrong moment obviously registers with him.

  He rushes toward the car, but I’m too fast. I’m not waiting there for him to lie to me. I’m gone as quickly as I arrived.

  He told me he was working all day. Did he do that just so he could see Karen on Valentine’s Day? Maybe she got the flowers and chocolates and messages, too.

  Did I even put the idea into his head to go after her?

  I’m such a fool. Maybe Flynn is a bigger rat even than Patrick. A king rat. I can’t face going home. Flynn has been there too often. I’ll see him in every room. I drive until I have to stop the car. I can’t see straight; my anger dissolves into tears. Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to me.

  I get out the car and get all the ingredients out of the back, emptying the bag of flour on the grass shoulder in a white cloud of dust. The cocoa powder, eggs, butter and sugar follow before I pour a carton of cream over all of it. It will all wash away the next time it rains, along with all my hopes for any kind of future with Flynn. I get back in the car and sit in the dark, crying bitter tears.

  CHAPTER 26

  Flynn

  Fuck! The distress on Rachel’s face. I know how this must look. I drive after her as quickly as I can, but I don’t know where she’s going. Home? I try there first. But she’s not there. I call her phone. No answer. Where else would she go? Oh yes, to Lisa’s. Lisa will be going out with her guy, but probably not this early.

  Lisa hasn’t seen Rachel.

  “Where else would she go?” I ask.

  She hesitates for a moment, then she says, “Try Abbeyfield Wood. There’s a lake there where she used to go when she wanted to be alone, after she split with her ex. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you, but it seems like you really care about her.”

&nbs
p; “I love her.”

  “Have you ever told her?”

  “No. I didn’t. I thought she knew.”

  “Men!” she says. “You’re all dense, I’m convinced.”

  *

  I don’t even get as far as Abbeyfield when I see Rachel’s car at the side of the road. I don’t want to frighten her, so I call her phone. She doesn’t answer me. So I text her. “Talk to me. My car is behind yours.”

  After a minute or so, I can’t wait any longer. She must have read my text by now. I get out of my car and stand in front of hers just as she starts her engine. She stops it again, and bursts into tears. And then I get in the passenger door.

  “Get out,” she says, through her tears, her voice colder than I’ve ever heard her sound.

  “I wasn’t expecting you home,” I say, stupidly

  “That figures. Is that supposed to make me feel better or something? That’s exactly what Patrick said to me when I caught him, too.”

  “This was nothing of the sort. I just meant when Karen pleaded for my help, I didn’t think agreeing would upset you.”

  “You thought I’d never know.” She gets out of the car and walks away as if she can’t bear to be near me.

  I follow her. “No. It’s not like that. I’d have told you. We would have laughed later about how little help she obviously needed.”

  “Very funny. I can’t say I feel like laughing, if it’s all right with you. What help was it she needed, then? What can that woman possibly need from you she can’t get from someone else?”

  “She said she had all these people coming to her party, and she couldn’t manage to get the loft hatch open where she had a lot of spare glasses and plates. But it was dead easy to open. A child of three could have done it if they could have reached. All she had to do was use the step ladder I used.”

  “What did she do when you opened it so easily?” She shakes her head as if she can’t believe the audacity of the woman. Maybe of either of us. I don’t know.

 

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