“Actually, Sunday night was a blast,” Holly added.
We all agreed.
After dessert, we sat under the stars, and I listened as they all talked about their plans to connect with one another. Holly would be helping Jada with a fundraiser for the Spencer and Jada Christmas Foundation. Bryn was going to work with the foundation to help set up shelters for people who had fallen victim to sex trafficking in the US. They discussed a preventative aspect of targeting the issue of illegal trafficking, hoping to figure out how to help people before they ended up in the clutches of traffickers. Then the conversation turned to a bakery in Santa Barbara, and it wasn’t until Holly gave Jada tips on being pregnant that I noticed she was indeed with child.
All in all, the night was perfect—so perfect that when Asher and I made it back to the penthouse, I found my shoebox and the letter my mom used to make me keep. I’d had two glasses of the most delicious red wine that night, so as we sat on the balcony, spectators of a summer moon and lively riverboats, I peeled open the seal of the letter. I couldn’t read it, though, so I handed it to Asher, who read it for me.
I closed my eyes as I listened to him say, “If you’re reading this, then it means I’m not coming back. The girl’s name is Penina Ross, and she is my daughter. I have tried to love her as a mother should, but I can’t. She’s better off without me, and I’m better off without her. Please contact her aunt, Christine Louise Ross, and not my parents. My parents are the reason I cannot love as I should. They will destroy her like they did me. Call Christine and only Christine.” Then she gave my aunt’s address and phone number.
Asher and I stared at each other. I was choked up, but the last three days had been too happy for me to cry.
“Well, there I have it,” I whispered.
He smiled and held out his hand. “Let’s go to bed.”
We slept that night because I had started my period. But three days later, we got on an airplane to our first vacation destination, and unfortunately, we were close to the end of our wonderful romp around the world.
“What are you smiling about?” Asher asked.
I took off my scope glasses that made me feel as if I could touch the aurora borealis and beamed at him. He was standing in the doorway, wearing pajama bottoms and a thick black turtleneck sweater and holding something.
“Ha!” I gasped, slapping my hands over my mouth.
Asher dropped down to one knee. “My beautiful Penina. Would you do me the honor of walking through this world with me from now until forever?”
There was only one answer I could give him. My hands shook, and tears rolled freely out of my eyes when I said it.
Epilogue
Penina Ross
“Penina?” Asher’s voice gusted through my mind like leaves rustling in the wind.
My eyes flickered open as I eased into full consciousness.
“Babe, we’re here,” he whispered.
Hearing the emotion coloring his tone, I reached over to massage his solid bicep. Asher had been nervous about arriving at his childhood home. Bryn had completed final renovations in February of that year. It would be the first time he would lay eyes on the gory mansion.
Even though Bryn had become one of my closest friends, I’d never seen the mansion, either. I wanted to experience it with Asher, and at that very moment, the day before our wedding. Most of our guests would be staying in town at an inn owned by the Christmases. However, all of our family members would have rooms at the mansion. For me, that included Aunt Christine, who was bringing a date, and Zara, who was like a sister to me. Kirk, who was her boyfriend, would be staying with us well.
All of Asher’s siblings and their partners would be in attendance. Beth McConnell, Asher’s biological mother, would also be there. We were both excited about that. In April, he and I tore ourselves from our work at the hospital and flew out to California to see her. Leading up to our visit, Bryn had sent him plenty of pictures of his mother. He had told me her appearance was starkly different than he remembered. She’d put on a healthy amount of weight, when before, her skin hugged her bones. Also, the scant number of teeth she had left were rotted. But in the photos, she flashed smiles with a full set of perfectly straight and pearly-white teeth. I had finally read the biography, The Dark Christmases, and from it, I learned how Asher and his siblings came to know of Beth’s existence. One night before our trip, after we had made love, he confessed that as Jake Sparrow, he had wiped Beth out of his memory. From the moment he ever laid eyes on her, he wished he’d never met her. The fact that his father was a pedophile, and his mother, a former prostitute and drug addict, was too much to bear. Bryn was the one who stuck with Beth, getting her the help needed. It had taken four stints in rehab before Beth could wrap her mind around the fact that she was not trash. She was a human being worthy of love, respect, and happiness.
We had taken Beth to brunch at Tutto Pao, an Italian and Chinese fusion restaurant in Bel Air, which had breathtaking views of the westside. During the car ride to the restaurant, she and I mostly talked about my work as a surgeon. It was as if she was afraid to say anything to Asher as if the wrong words would send him away from her forever.
But at some point, I mentioned a procedure that Asher and I were working on perfecting, and I was thankful he was a chemist because he was able to use mathematics to get us past barriers. That was when Beth mentioned one of her brothers was also a mathematician.
“Brothers? I have uncles?” Asher asked.
She smiled. “Yes. They’re younger than me. They didn’t know I existed until Caroline, my therapist, reached out to them.”
And from that moment on, Asher and Beth couldn’t stop talking to each other. Over dinner, she told us everything—the bad, the worse, and the ultra-ugly. But she shared the good too, which occurred the moment Bryn walked into her life and changed it forever.
I would always remember every aspect of what happened next. Night had fallen, and the lukewarm air carried the scent of the Pacific Ocean. We’d eaten dinner and were having dessert when Asher said, “I’m sorry, Beth…” He cleared his throat. “Mom. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you like Bryn was. But that’s Bryn; we can always rely on her in that way. But I’m here for you.” He took my hand in his and looked me in the eyes. “We both are.” He nodded.
I nodded back.
As it was that night at Tutto Pao, it was hard to rip my eyes away from Asher’s face then, and put them on the famed mansion that had launched Bryn’s new career as an interior designer. His lips were parted as the sight rendered him speechless. Gawking at his beautiful profile was like being lost in the allure of the form and fitness of Michelangelo’s David.
Then he turned to me, eyes glistening, smile perfect. “Wow, I didn’t expect that.”
I moved my lips towards his and closed my eyes as we engaged in a delicate but rousing kiss. Our persistent tongues wanted to continue brushing and tasting each other, but it was now time to see what had made the man that loved so emotional.
Julia Valentine
The Day After The Wedding
I'd been waiting for The Daily Chronicle to post captures of Asher’s wedding. There he was, holding her hand—Penina Ross. My sister by blood only. Her dress was white, of course. But how tacky—a plunging neckline. If I were marrying a Christmas, my dress would’ve had a boatneck or a Queen Anne neckline. They were all in attendance—Jasper, Spencer, Bryn, and even Gina had been invited.
“Fuck!” I shot to my feet and turned my back on the computer screen.
I closed my eyes and filled my lungs with air. I thought about the day I followed Penina into the restroom at the hospital. My intention was not to set her off that way.
What was my intention then?
I just wanted to talk to her. I wanted to know if Asher truly loved her. But I should’ve kept my distance.
My eyes quickly open as I touch my throat. A sweetheart neckline. Yes, that was it. My dress would’ve had a sweetheart neckline.
Imposing and intimidating, Jasper Christmas's frame filled the doorway.
"Stephanie, leave us," he said without looking at her.
Stephanie, who wasn't one to be pushed around, let her survival instincts guide her.
"Of course, Mr. Christmas," she muttered. Then, without question, she got up from her desk, her high heels pitter-pattering out the door.
My breathing went shallow, my skin warmed, and my head felt as if it detached from my body. Jasper smelled good and looked sexy in a pair of heather gray slacks and a white crisp button-down shirt. But I couldn't let his appearance fool me. He was an avenging angel, sentencing me to destitution.
"What can I do for you?" I mustered enough courage to ask.
He stared at me with an unreadable expression. I heard my heart beating and felt it too. He still hadn't said anything. Jasper wanted me to do exactly what I was doing—stand before him, trembling like a leaf in the wind.
“We were once on good terms, weren’t we?” he asked.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, knowing that I was prey, and he was the predator, toying with his kill.
“I wanted you to be the least of my worries, Julia. But now you’re the cause of what’s worrying me the most. It wouldn’t take more than an hour to make that nagging feeling go away. Do you understand me?” One of his eyes had narrowed slightly. He was angry. I couldn’t grab his dick or unbutton my blouse and offer him my tits. None of that worked on the Jasper Christmas—never had, never would.
I… I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to plead for mercy and accuse him of ruining my family. I no longer had any friends. Everyone abandoned me after hearing what my father had done to those women. And then there were the videos. I couldn’t wipe them out of my memory, even though I have tried. I know he committed those crimes. But I can never admit. If I did, I would lose everything.
“You were supposed to marry me, take care of me. That was the deal between our fathers,” I said.
He glanced over his shoulder. The door was still ajar, and knowing Jasper, he hadn’t wanted anyone to hear what I had just said.
“But that wasn’t our deal. I never agreed to marry you. However, you’ve threatened Asher and Bryn. You’ve accosted Dr. Ross. And, you’ve extorted some of my former employees.”
My lips parted. Once again, I was on the verge of accusing the Christmases of abandoning the Valentines. But Bryn was still close to Carter, my brother. He wouldn’t even take my calls or agree to meet me. At that moment, for some strange reason, I remembered the last words I spoke to Carter. I had put together a string of insults my father used to call him. I was mean, unloving. I loved my brother. Didn’t I?
But the look in Jasper’s eyes said he didn’t give a damn about my woes. I felt trapped. It was as if I were living the final moments before the blade of the guillotine sliced through my neck.
Dispensing judgment, he turned his back on me. “I’ll be in touch."
“Wait,” I called, realizing it was time to fight for the little I had left.
Thankfully, Jasper stopped in his tracks. “Make it good.” His back was still turned.
“I did it. Everything you said, I did it.” My confession made me want to barf.
Never admit defeat, I heard my father say in my head.
“I know that already.”
Anxiously, I rubbed my palms together. “I don't know why I do what I do. Survival, maybe. But, I will leave your family, Dr. Ross, everyone alone. If you just don’t hurt me.” I inhaled deeply, and my throat trembled as I released the air and whispered, “Please.”
I was weak and a mess. But my fate was in his hands. Come tomorrow, I could be poor, or I could still be rich. The choice was his.
Still, with his back facing me, he stood very still. “You’re fired, Julia. Leave the hospital and the city.”
Then he walked away.
I opened my eyes, and tears welled up inside them. That was last year. Jasper had chosen not to bankrupt me. And I kept my promise; I backed off from the Christmases. But what had I gotten in return? My sister, who was the result of my father’s sins, was a Christmas, and I was not.
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Crave, His Second Chance with Heiress Bryn Christmas
BRYN CHRISTMAS
I sat on a stool at the airport bar, eyes glued to my cellphone screen as I swiped through images of the interior of the next house I’d been paid to design. My flight from Newport, Rhode Island, had been scheduled to take off three hours earlier. The last report had me boarding soon, though. It was the third of January, and travelers were flying back home from wherever they’d spent the holidays. Also, bad weather had sailed in from the north, which further complicated things. My brothers had tried to convince me to take one of the family airplanes, but I only traveled on a private aircraft unless I absolutely had to. I liked flying commercial. It was exciting being around people I didn’t know. I wasn’t as popular as my brothers, so I was only recognized on rare occasions. And so far, no one had requested to take a picture with me or asked if I was “the Christmas sister.” Sure, my flight to Denver had been delayed, but I was happy drinking a martini and barely touching a big plate of over-salted french fries while waiting.
Then someone said, “I thought that was you.”
I knew whoever said that was speaking to me because I recognized his voice; it made my head feel floaty and gave me the sensation of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Then I carefully turned to my right and was looking into the glossy eyes of Jamison Cox.
“Whoa, you,” I said for lack of a better response to seeing him in over a year.
He was still handsome in a clean-cut way. His face was always clean-shaven, and all the hairs on his head were perfectly combed into place. His shirt was still crisp and white, and his slacks were dark with a crease. And he still smelled like fresh laundry and faint cologne, a popular scent that always reminded me of Fruit Loops, which wasn’t a bad thing. However, not long after meeting Jamison, I’d learned not to let his conservative appearance fool me. His rebelliousness could be seen in his sexy brown eyes that were expressive in a way that made him have to try very hard to hide his thoughts, which he did very well. Then there were his pouty lips, which made every expression his mouth made sexy. They were the sort of lips a girl could get off on merely by kissing and sucking on them. A flash of me doing just that raced through my mind. I had to cough in my hand and look away from Jamison Cox to remember that, for a dozen reasons,
I didn’t like him or trust him any farther than I could throw him.
“So, it’s true,” he said, flashing his perfect smile.
Mouth agape, I watched him for a moment. Were we supposed to be talking? After all, his father had tried to tarnish my family. “What’s true?” I finally said.
“You’re the only Christmas who flies commercial.”
I leaned away from him. “Have you been checking on me, Jamison?”
He looked down while smirking. I recognized the expression as the look he wore whenever he was avoiding answering a direct question. Why had I fucked him anyway? He wasn't even my type. He golfed, and belonged to more than one country club. He also had friends with names like Wilder, Crosby, and Royce. The girlfriend he had broken it off with before we started our very short—but intense—love affair was named Carlisle. I mean, talk about preppy heaven. Jamison reminded me of the sort of man my father would’ve loved for me to marry, so that he could squeeze some kind of social and political capital out of the Cox family.
Suddenly I was irritated, and a tiny part of me wanted to tell him to go away already and forget I ever existed. But that was a very, very, very small part.
“So, what are you doing in these parts anyway?” I asked.
Again, his eyes looked down, and the sheepish smirk was back.
I tilted my head curiously. “You don’t want to tell me?”
He looked up again. “What? Huh?”
“You don’t have to tell me. And you don’t have to stall. As a matter of fact—”
“So, what have you been up to these days?” he asked.
I paused to study him. Had he heard anything I just said? Could he hear in my tone that I was about to tell him to go piss off? Jamison’s skin had turned red, and his gorgeous eyes seemed a little wild. We used to have crazy good sexual chemistry. The energy was still residing inside me, but I had never let lust influence my common sense, and I wasn’t going to start then. However, if he wanted to play the game of avoidance, then I was willing to participate.
Embrace: The Secret Billionaire Asher Christmas Duet, Two (The Dark Christmases Book 9) Page 21
