One Night at Christmas

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One Night at Christmas Page 9

by Tressie Lockwood


  Chapter Fifteen

  “Yup, definitely kept,” Charon muttered. Now she was in a new apartment, even before she had settled into the last one. Hopefully, this was the last move they would make for a while.

  Bryson flew them to New York, and he arranged for a furnished two-bedroom apartment. New York city accommodated a lot more last minute plans than her home state.

  A warm fire burned in the fireplace—something she never knew was possible in an apartment—and she had already hung some stockings from the mantel. She found another tree, and they decorated it. Naomi didn’t understand a do-over, but she was all for it.

  The entire apartment smelled of cinnamon and nutmeg after Charon started a batch of cookies. Just outside the window was a snowy slushy view of New York City. Naomi knelt on the chair by the window staring out in fascination.

  Charon prepared a dinner of orange glazed turkey, garlic mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and buttermilk biscuits. She whipped up a pecan pie from an old recipe. A longing to see Bryson washed over her. Since they arrived in New York, she hadn’t seen him. He had dropped her and Naomi off at the apartment and said he had business to take care of. Part of her worried now that he was back in his element, he would change his mind about the two of them.

  The doorbell rang, and Naomi sprang up off the chair. “I’ll get it.”

  “No, you won’t. I don’t know what notions come to over you, Little Miss, but you stay right there. I’ll get the door.”

  Her daughter pouted but stayed put. She watched with nosy curiosity as Charon headed to the door. A peek through the hole revealed a man Charon didn’t recognize. She hesitated.

  “Yes?” she called through the door.

  The man was thrust aside and a blonde stepped into view. She shouted in an uppity tone. “I’m doing you a courtesy. I could get the super to open the door. Now let us in right now!”

  Charon had never seen Gretchen, but she knew in an instant this was her. She looked over her shoulder at Naomi. “Baby, go play in your room for a bit.”

  “Awww,” her daughter whined.

  “Go. We’ll have cookies soon.”

  “Yay!” Her daughter ran off down the hall, and Charon turned back to the door. She opened it and stepped back just as the blonde burst in like she owned the place.

  Just inside the door, the woman paused and surveyed the apartment. Her thin lips tightened as she settled on the pile of presents under the tree. The man cleared his throat, and Charon turned, recalling his presence. Another stiff one but not in the same way that Gretchen carried herself. This man was here on business, if Charon had to guess, and a chill raced down her spine.

  “Ms. er…” He shuffled through the papers in his hand. She decided not to help him out, and he apparently found her name written in his information. “Ms. Cooper, you’re living in this apartment. Is that right?”

  “Duh.” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her rising temper in check.

  The man flushed. “I’m Cornelius Gibbons, and this is Mrs. Bryson Scott. I’m here as her attorney.” He frowned as if he weren’t pleased that Gretchen had joined him on whatever he intended to do at Charon’s place.

  While she had already figured out who they were, it irked Charon that he found it necessary to emphasize the Mrs. and to call Gretchen by Bryson’s name. But why were they there? For an instant, she wondered if Bryson had been lying all this time and that his wife would never accept him having an affair. No, they weren’t having an affair. He planned to file for a divorce. Didn’t he?

  She straightened her back. This was no time to cower. Gretchen and Mr. Gibbons obviously thought they were better than her—at least Gretchen did. She radiated with superiority. “Why are you here?”

  Gretchen whirled around to face her. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m evicting you.”

  “Say what?”

  Gretchen waved red-tipped fingers on an impossibly slender hand. Her stereotypical fur coat hung open, revealing a red dress that clung to her willowy figure. She wore high-heeled boots that couldn’t possibly keep her feet warm in New York winter, not to mention how she walked over snow and ice in them.

  Regardless, it shocked Charon to find that Bryson’s wife wasn’t a supermodel. She might be attractive if she gained about twenty pounds. What she lacked in beauty, apparently she made up for in expensive clothes and accessories. The sparkling diamonds on her fingers, in her ears, and around her neck could blind a person.

  Charon shook her head, clearing it of wandering unnecessary thoughts. She needed to focus on the crazy words coming out of the bitch’s mouth. “You must not know where you are because this is my apartment, and last time I checked, your name wasn’t on the contract.”

  “Neither is yours,” she snapped.

  Charon flinched, and Gretchen smirked in triumph.

  The lawyer cut in. “My information says that the apartment was leased by Mr. Bryson Scott. Since both Mr. and Mrs. Scott own their assets jointly, Mrs. Scott has equal access to this apartment.”

  “That’s not—!” Charon stopped. She had no idea if what the lawyer was saying was true or not. All she knew was that the place was in Bryson’s name, not hers. Neither of them had found a problem with it since he arranged everything over the phone in a hurry. At the time, all she had cared about was coming with him to New York, to be with him at last. She couldn’t have anticipated this situation. “L-let me give Bryson a call.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Gretchen encompassed the room with a flick of her fingers. “Just pack up your things, and get out. I don’t care where you go, but you can’t stay here.”

  Charon ignored her and went to grab her phone from her purse. Her hands shook as she dialed Bryson. The phone rang four times and went to voicemail. She disconnected and dialed him back. When he didn’t answer the second time, dread crawled up her back. Her eyes burned, but she wasn’t about to cry in front of these two.

  She spun to face them. “As far as I’m concerned, I made my agreement with Bryson. He can tell me to move out if he wants to. Not you. So you can leave.”

  Gretchen curled her lips in disgust and approached Charon. “You’re the one he’s wanted all this time. I knew there was somebody.”

  Suspicions rose in Charon.

  Gretchen looked like a satisfied snake. “You’ve been holding out for this? Some people will go to great lengths to have a stupid man pay their bills. Where did he find you?”

  Charon held up a hand to stop Gretchen’s approach. She didn’t trust herself if the woman came too close. “You need to watch your mouth. Mine and Bryson’s relationship has nothing to do with you.”

  “Did he tell you he’s going to divorce me?” She threw her head back and laughed, an ugly unattractive sound. “I own Bryson—so to speak. We are so entangled financially he would have to go broke to get rid of me. That is, if he wanted to, and trust me, he doesn’t. What Bryson loves more than anything is money, and I’ve helped him achieve his dreams. What can you give him? Sex?”

  At the mention of sex, Gretchen quivered, and a tinge of fear came into her expression. It was gone as soon as it appeared, behind a mask of disgust. Charon could guess what that meant. If they were intimate, Gretchen hated it. The thought of any woman touching him other than her disturbed Charon. He deserved a lot better than this evil selfish witch married to him.

  Doubts assailed her though. She already knew the truth of what Gretchen was saying. Bryson did love money more than anything. It encouraged her to know he loved her, but did he love her more than money? Would he be ruined if he tried to leave Gretchen? If he saw the possibility of that now that he returned to New York, maybe that’s why she hadn’t heard from him. He didn’t know how to tell her she needed to go back to North Carolina.

  No, Bryson isn’t a coward.

  “It’s obvious you don’t know him like I know him.” God, she sounded like a mistress, which she wasn’t. Not really. They hadn’t slept together since meeting up again. She had
made it clear she wouldn’t, and he hadn’t pushed.

  “Ms. Cooper,” the lawyer interjected. “I’m willing to give you time to make other arrangements. You must understand that these—relationships—rarely turn out the way you expect.”

  Charon felt sick to her stomach. “What are you trying to say?”

  “I’m not giving her any time,” Gretchen snapped.

  “Mrs. Scott, it’s Christmas.” He had a heart after all, unlike Gretchen.

  “So? I don’t care!” Gretchen flounced toward the door and faced Charon again. “Be gone by tomorrow morning, or I’m coming back with the police.”

  Charon went still. She noted the pity in the lawyer’s pale eyes. He thought she was stupid and that Bryson had played her just to get what he wanted.

  “I think there’s something burning,” he said and shut the door behind him as he left.

  Charon stirred from her shock and fear and ran to the kitchen. She yanked the oven door open, and smoke billowed out. The smoke detector went off, blaring so loudly it hurt her ears. Naomi screamed. Meanwhile, Charon’s world came tumbling down to the ground.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Christmas Morning…

  At one a.m., Charon sat on the living room carpet. Naomi had passed out at eleven, and Charon took her to bed. They managed to bake more cookies and kept from burning them. Then they laid out a plate with milk and cookies for Santa. Naomi claimed she would stay up to see Santa arrive, and Charon allowed it. After all, they might be on the street in the morning. In the end, her baby couldn’t hang.

  Sleep refused to come to Charon. Her eyes burned. They were dry. She hadn’t even gotten an emotional release from crying. The tears refused to fall, even sitting alone in the quiet apartment.

  She rose to pour herself something to drink. The bottle of wine was one she had intended to share with Bryson. After knocking back two glasses, she grew light-headed. She recalled that she hadn’t eaten much more than the cookies all evening.

  “That bastard,” she moaned. “He should have said something to me directly. He shouldn’t have let her come. He tried to make me believe it was all about the money. I should have known no woman could be with him and not get jealous…”

  No, Gretchen didn’t want Bryson. Even hurt and shamed, Charon could see Gretchen didn’t love Bryson or desire him. A woman like her couldn’t handle a man like Bryson. She probably weighed ninety-five pounds.

  Charon giggled under her breath, and a small sob escaped. Maybe she would cry now. She waited. Nothing.

  A sound at the door brought her head up. She squinted. Earlier, she had turned off all the lights and let the fireplace and the Christmas tree lights illuminate the room. Sure enough, something jingled at the front door.

  “Santa?” she joked quietly.

  A key slipped into the lock, and her heart went nuts. Gretchen was back with the building’s super. She was letting herself in with the police. She must have decided she wouldn’t wait until morning.

  Charon surged to her feet. The tears that wouldn’t come earlier flooded her eyes. She slapped a hand over her mouth and started to cry in earnest. This couldn’t be happening. How did everything go wrong? Maybe she was meant to stay with Morris and let him bully her with his accusations of cheating.

  The door opened a bit and stopped because of the swing loop guard. A man swore under his breath. Charon recognized him and ran to the door.

  “Bryson!”

  “Damn, I was going to surprise you. I hope I didn’t frighten you. Can you take the lock off?”

  She shut the door with shaking hands and released the guard then opened the door again. He stepped into the apartment, and before she could say a word, he drew her into his arms and kissed her lips. Right away, he sprang back and stared into her face with surprise.

  “You taste like tears. Baby, what’s going on?” He flicked the switch next to the door, and she shielded her eyes. “Charon, you’ve been crying!”

  For an answer, she started to cry again. Now the stupid emotions refused to stop. They overwhelmed her and made it impossible to speak. He tugged her over to the couch and sat her down then dropped beside her.

  Love for him flowed through her veins, but she resisted them. She had to tell him what happened and to know if he still wanted to be with her. “Your wife is what happened.”

  The shock in his expression said he hadn’t sent Gretchen to deal with Charon. Not that she believed it in the first place. “What do you mean Gretchen happened? You didn’t see her?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Jeez, I thought New York was big enough. Where did you two run into each other? Downtown?”

  “Here.”

  “Here in Brooklyn?”

  “Here, Bryson! Here! In this apartment.”

  He paled, and then his eyebrows crashed low over his expressive eyes. “She didn’t come here to harass you. Tell me she didn’t do that, Charon.”

  She knew he wasn’t mad at her, but the fury in his tone almost made her feel sorry for Gretchen. Not quite though.

  “She did more than harass us. She threatened us.” Charon explained everything that was said. “Her lawyer came with her, acting like it was official. I’m not stupid. I should get thirty days to move out, but that’s not the point. I was scared, Bryson—am scared. I can’t have my baby on the street in this weather, or any weather!”

  Bryson jumped to his feet.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To deal with her. She’ll never come near you again. I promise you, and that attorney will be disbarred just as soon as I can make a few phone calls.”

  He started to move away, but she grabbed his hand and held on. Her insides churned. Fresh tears fell. When she spoke, her voice came out low and hoarse. “I need to know if you changed your mind about us.”

  He drew her to his chest. She luxuriated in his warmth and the comfort he supplied to her wounded soul. More tears fell, and she didn’t fight them. He wasn’t saying anything, and she knew what was coming.

  “You’re not going to like what I’m going to say.”

  A sob escaped her.

  He drew back to look into her eyes. “Part of what Gretchen said was true.”

  “B-bryson.” She felt sick and devastated.

  “I’m letting go of everything.”

  “Wait. What?”

  “I never thought I would feel this way or make this decision. I know you said you’ll be the one to sacrifice, but it’s not going to happen.” She started to speak, but he laid a finger over her lips. “Gretchen and I are tied up in a lot of financial crap I’m not going to go into. It’s going to take time to unravel. I’ll have to liquidate quite a few of my holdings—if she cooperates. With all the hoops I’ll probably have to jump through, it could take months, maybe a year. After that, we’ll move back to North Carolina into the area of your choosing.”

  “I—”

  “Before you jump to conclusions, I already talked to my lawyer to file for legal separation from Gretchen.. It’s a process on the financial side, but I don’t want you to think I’m making you false promises to get you into bed.”

  “I know.” She ducked her head.

  He touched his forehead to hers. “She made you worry, and I took so long. I’m truly sorry, my love. I wanted to get over here sooner. Just know that I’m here now. I’ve moved out of the house I shared with her.”

  “That quick?”

  “Yeah. Once I make a decision… Do you feel better now? Is there anything else I can explain?”

  “Not right now.”

  “I’m going to go have a chat with her, and when I’m done she’s going to apologize to you.”

  “God, no. I don’t want to see her again. That hurt, but I’m over it. As long as I know Naomi and I aren’t on the street, I’m good.”

  “You’ll never be without as long as I’m alive. I love you, Charon. Coming back to New York, dealing with all I’ve had to do over the last couple of days, it only sol
idifies it.”

  She stroked his cheek. “I love you too. And Naomi and I have some gifts for you under the tree.”

  “My car is overflowing with gifts for the two of you.”

  Her eyes widened. “For her too?”

  “Of course. She’ll be my stepdaughter from now on.”

  She stared, but he played off the comment as if it didn’t take her breath away.

  “Bryson, stay the night. Deal with Gretchen after the holiday.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I don’t want you to go again. I can’t bear it. Not yet.”

  “Then I’ll go out to the car and bring the presents in. I’ve got a suitcase out there too, but I checked into a hotel. I don’t want to rush you.”

  She laughed. “Meanwhile, you used a key to try to get into my apartment.”

  “I told you I was surprising you.”

  “Uh-huh.” She smacked his arm. “Okay, hurry up.”

  He kissed her lips and rushed out the door. While he was gone, she ran to her room, grabbed the special bag she’d left there, and darted into the bathroom. She had moments before he returned to get herself ready. Tonight, after four years, she was going to be intimate with the man who owned her heart. And she would show him just how desirable he was no matter what that evil witch said.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Charon heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs and lay down. She had spread a blanket in front of the fireplace to the left of the tree. Her legs were chilly, but she figured they would be fine in a bit. She tugged the hem of the nightie to cover her bare snatch. That meant the delicate material strained over her breasts, accentuating them. Not a bad look so she kept the pose.

  Bryson opened the door, and all the packages he held went tumbling to the carpet. She bit down on a snort of laughter. “I hope nothing was breakable in there.”

 

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