What Happens at Christmas…

by Yvonne Lindsay

  “She did, but you’re not a lady, you’re my sister—oof! What was that for?” he finished with a hurt look at his fiancée.

  Kristin smiled smugly at him, fully aware that Tami had kicked him soundly under the table. Tami merely planted a swift kiss on Keaton’s cheek and smiled conspiratorially at Kristin.

  “We women need to stick together,” she said.

  This evening was really turning out to be a surprise, Kristin thought as they turned their attention to the desserts. First of all, Jackson’s expert handling of the reporter outside and then her speech going well. Then his indulging her over her food preferences, and now Tami’s support against her brother’s teasing. All in all, she had to admit she was actually starting to enjoy herself. An interesting concept, she thought, when the past year had been little more than putting out metaphorical fires at work and then struggling through the end of yet another relationship. Maybe things really were taking a turn for the better. And maybe, just maybe, Jackson working for the family would turn out okay despite all her earlier misgivings.

  After their dishes were cleared, several tables were moved to make room for a large dance floor. By the time the band began to play, Kristin was feeling tired and ready to head home, but to her surprise, Jackson came toward her and held out a hand.

  “I believe this is our dance,” he said. “Hector informed me this afternoon that he and Nancy would have led the dancing tonight, so I guess that means it’s now up to us.”

  “Really? Mom never said.” Kristin took a quick look around the room and realized that no one else had yet taken to the floor. “I guess we’d better start the ball rolling, literally.”

  She accepted his hand. For a moment she lost herself in the sensation of his warm skin and the firm but gentle strength of his fingers as he drew her toward him. His arm curved around her, the palm settling at the small of her back, while the other hand held hers. They stepped out into the slow dance currently being played. He always had been a good mover, she thought wistfully as they expertly did their first turn around the dance floor and people began to join them. Whether it was sport, dancing or—No, she wouldn’t go there. It was hard enough to keep any kind of control on her body when he was so very close to her; she didn’t want to make things worse by remembering how he moved when he made love. And there it was, she had to go there. She groaned inwardly.

  “Problem? Did I step on your toe?” he asked, a look of concern on his face.

  “No, not at all,” she said swiftly. “But do we need to do this for long?”

  “Let’s sit out the next one, okay?”

  “Sure. And then maybe we can slip away? I don’t know about you, but I put in a full day at the office today before getting ready for tonight. And tomorrow—”

  “No problem. To be honest, I’m ready to head off, too.”

  Was he? He didn’t look it, but then again, she’d noticed that he was very good at hiding what he was thinking or feeling. Probably a good trait in a lawyer when dealing with difficult clients or situations, but it made it hard for her to read him and she’d always considered herself to be a fairly decent judge of people. With the rank exception of Isaac, of course.

  She looked into Jackson’s blue eyes to see if she could tell if he was lying, but they remained unfathomable. There had been a time she’d always known what he was thinking, but not now. They were both very different people to who they’d been in college. She reminded herself she shouldn’t care what he was thinking. After all, unless he was involved in the direct execution of his duty to her family, it was none of her business.

  The band swung into an up-tempo piece and more people came onto the dance floor.

  “I think that’s our cue to leave, don’t you?” Jackson said, bending his head slightly to murmur in her ear.

  She tried to ignore the shiver of awareness that crept through her at his nearness and at the intimacy of his breath on her skin and took a step away from him.

  “Yes, let’s say our goodbyes to Tami and Keaton and we can be on our way.”

  At the table, Tami and Keaton looked as if they, too, were preparing to head home.

  “Escaping, too?” Keaton asked with a grin.

  “We’ve done our duty,” Kristin said.

  “Kristin, could you come with me to the ladies’ room for a minute?” Tami asked.

  Kristin looked at her in surprise. They were well past the age where they needed company to head to the bathroom, but one look at the expression on Tami’s face made her agree and follow her to the bathrooms. The moment they were there, Tami swung and faced Kristin.

  “Did you see it?” she asked.

  “See what?”

  She looked around the bathroom. It was empty except for the two of them.

  “The tan line on his hand.”

  “The tan line on whose hand?” Kristin asked.

  “Jackson’s. I’d never noticed it before but there’s a tan line on his finger.”

  “So the man wore a ring in the sun. It’s not a crime, is it?”

  “His ring finger.”

  Realization dawned slowly. “You think he’s married?”

  “Or very recently divorced. There’s something between the two of you, isn’t there?”

  “There might have been once, long ago,” Kristin admitted, still shocked at the thought of Jackson either being, or having been, married. She didn’t know why it bothered her so much. After all, eleven years was a long time in which to have moved on. It wasn’t like she still had any kind of claim on him. “But there’s nothing now but a professional relationship.”

  “You say that but I’ve seen the way he looks at you and the way you two moved together on the dance floor. You were like a single unit. Totally in tune with each other.”

  “He’s a good dancer,” Kristin shrugged. “And that’s all. Look, while we’re here, I’m going to use the facilities.”

  She ducked into a stall and closed the door and wished it were as easy to close the door on the past. She had to admit it, to herself if no one else. It hurt to think of him with another woman. Logic dictated that it was bound to happen—even she’d had other relationships. But none that had truly captured her heart the way he had.

  She exited the stall, determined not to let it bother her, and washed her hands before she and Tami returned to the men.

  “So, are you going to ask him about it?” Tami asked.

  “Why?”

  Tami rolled her eyes. “To see if the coast is clear.”

  Kristin decided to play deliberately obtuse. “Coast?”

  “Now I know you’re avoiding the issue,” Tami said with a quirk of her lips. “You’re interested, aren’t you? Why don’t you ask him about his wife?”

  “I’m avoiding nothing. I’m not interested and I’m not asking him anything.”

  “Okay, whatever you say.”

  As they reached the men Tami drew into Keaton’s side and slid one arm under his jacket and around his waist. Kristin watched her brother, who’d never really shown a great deal of emotion, visibly melt at the arrival of his fiancée. The sight of the two of them caused a sharp prick of envy to stab sharply in her chest. She’d always wanted that—the kind of relationship that meant no matter where or when, you always had that person to count on. Someone to love you and someone you could love and trust with your heart, no matter what.

  “The car is here,” Jackson said, interrupting her longing. “Shall we go?”

  “Yes. Good night, you two. Thanks for being great company.”

  She leaned forward and kissed Tami on the cheek, and her brother, too. As she drew away she heard Tami whisper.

  “Remember to ask him.”

  Kristin shook her head ever so slightly and turned away and walked beside Jackson to the car.

  “What was that about?” Jackson asked.

/>   “What was what about?”

  “The ‘ask him’ thing.”

  Darn. He’d overheard. She made a dismissive gesture with her hand, then decided that deflection would be a waste of time. The man was used to cross-examining people who’d had far longer to think of something else to say than she did right now.

  “Oh, that. Nothing, really. Tami just noticed that you had a tan line on your ring finger. She wanted me to ask you about your wife.”

  “My wife?”

  He stopped in his tracks and Kristin was forced to stop with him. For a moment she saw a wealth of pain in his eyes, but then the anguish was replaced by a fierce expression–one that made her wish she’d held to her original plan to keep quiet.

  “Yes, look, it’s none of our business if you’re divorced. Please, don’t worry about it.”

  “I’m not divorced.”

  Kristin felt her mouth dry up and she swallowed hard. “You’re not? Then—?”

  “My wife is dead. And you’re right. It is absolutely none of your business.”

  Ten

  Kristin reeled with shock. It was one thing to think of Jackson as having been married but another to discover he was widowed. She’d blithely stomped over his feelings without thinking. She felt as if she was about two inches tall right now and she owed him a genuine apology.

  “Oh, Jack. I’m so very sorry.”

  “Yeah,” he said and looked away, his jaw a firm line of determination. “So am I. Let’s go. I’ll see you home.”

  They walked out of the venue and straight to the waiting car. The driver stood at the back door and handed Kristin into her seat and Jackson let himself in on the other side.

  “To Ms. Richmond’s apartment building first, please,” Jackson said.

  Beneath his directive, she could hear a note of weariness. Weariness, or maybe grief that she’d ripped open anew.

  “Jack, I really am sorry. I had no idea.”

  “It’s not something I shout from the rooftops, Kristin. Just drop it, okay? I’m not about to fall apart on you or anyone else. My wife’s death and the months leading up to it were harrowing and are things I have no wish to rehash.”

  “Sure,” she replied, feeling chastened. “If you ever need to talk, though, about anything, call me, okay?”

  He looked across the darkened rear compartment of the car and she held his gaze, noting how his eyes glittered from the reflection of passing streetlights. Or was it emotion that made his eyes look like that?

  “Thank you. But I’m fine. Truly. Now, about that question the reporter asked. We’re possibly being paranoid but I have to ask, have you or anyone else in your family said anything to anyone about the new claim?”

  She chose not to be offended that he would think that she might have let the information out.

  She kept her voice level as she answered, “Our family is used to keeping things confidential. Especially things that might harm ourselves or the business. I think you can rest assured that none of us would have given anyone an inkling that there was another potential family skeleton rattling its bones.”

  “Hmm, then it’s probably nothing to worry about.”

  “Well let’s hope so. It wouldn’t be unusual for a gossip columnist to make something up, though. Would we have a basis to sue if they did?”

  “Depends on how they phrase it. Most of these gossip rags are based on conjecture and—” he made air quotes with his fingers “—information according to a source. And the trouble is, people believe that rubbish.”

  Kristin laughed at the absolute disgust in his tone. “Not a fan of the tabloids, then?”

  He shook his head emphatically. “I’d rather read the latest spy thriller or sci-fi saga.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, they provide a bit of light entertainment,” she said to provoke him just a little.

  “Not, I suspect, when it’s your own family who’s being featured.”

  She had to admit he had a point.

  “Seriously, Kristin, these people make their money on other people’s misery, and if they can’t find the truth behind something, then they’ll just go ahead and fabricate their own hideous lies.”

  There was so much bitterness behind his words. Kristin probed the wound.

  “You sound as if you have experience in this?”

  “I told you before about my parents. When the medical examiner’s reports were released with the details of my parents’ causes of death, our local paper had a field day. Nothing and no one was left alone. If people didn’t want to give information, the paper started speculating about what our family life was really like behind closed doors. When it was revealed that my mother had injuries inconsistent with the car wreck and that my father had high levels of sedative in his blood, they began posing conjecture of spousal abuse in both directions. At that point I sought legal advice to shut them up. True or not, it was our business. Not the public’s.

  “But that was nothing compared to what my wife went through. Her first serious relationship fell apart rather spectacularly when she was in the early stages of her career, and because her lover was a man with a high profile, not to mention a wife she was unaware of, she was vilified by the press. It impacted her career greatly. She was a brilliant woman with a brilliant mind, and if she had lived, she could have gone all the way to the Supreme Court bench if she hadn’t had that stain painted on her character.”

  Kristin listened carefully, hearing the words that remained unsaid. From what Jackson had just told her, his wife had to have been quite a bit older than him if her math and her limited knowledge of Supreme Court appointments was any indicator. She opted for a neutral response when every cell in her body writhed with curiosity and the need to know more.

  “I can see why you feel the way you do. And again, I’m really sorry, Jackson. Sorry that my careless question raised a whole lot of past hurt for you, but especially sorry, too, for the hurt you sustained when your parents died. Losing one parent is hard enough, but losing two, together...” she shook her head slightly “...I just can’t imagine what that must feel like, especially with no other family to support you.”

  He was silent for a time, then drew in a breath and slowly let it out. “Thank you. I’m sorry, it’s a hot topic for me. You didn’t need to hear all that.”

  “I’m glad you could tell me.” She thought for a moment, then spoke before she could change her mind. “When we get to my apartment, would you like to come up for a while?”

  “I thought you were tired, ready to call it a night.”

  “I’m tired, but I guess I’m not quite ready to be alone just yet. What do you say? I make a mean mug of cocoa.”

  “With marshmallows?”

  “Of course.”

  He hesitated again and she would have bet her last week’s salary that he was going to refuse, when he huffed out another short breath and nodded.

  “Sure. But I’ll make the cocoa. You always added too much sugar.”

  She laughed but felt that now familiar tug in her chest at the fact that he’d divulged yet another memory of their time together. Yet more proof that while he’d gone and left her, he’d never truly forgotten her any more than she’d forgotten him.

  “I still do,” she admitted. “Make sure you add plenty to my mug, okay?”

  “Noted,” he said with the beginnings of an answering smile.

  When they reached her apartment building, he dismissed the driver with his thanks. As he escorted Kristin through the main doors, she nodded to the evening security guard. In the close confines of the elevator, she studied Jackson’s reflection in the mirrored door. There were lines of strain around his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier in the evening. Talking about his family and his late wife had obviously taken a toll. Cocoa was a good standby as a pick-me-up, but she doubted that it would give him the succor he looked l
ike he needed right now.

  When they arrived on her floor, they exited and walked down the carpeted corridor to her door. She pressed her forefinger on the print reader at her door to unlock it and ushered him inside.

  “Kitchen is over to your right. You’ll find everything you need there,” she said. “I’m just going to emancipate my feet from these heels and I’ll join you. Oh, and there’s brandy in the cupboard beside the refrigerator if you want to add a dash of that to the cocoa.”

  She didn’t wait for his response but crossed the living room to the short hallway that led to her bedroom. She sat on the bed and groaned as she slid her feet from the gold high-heeled pumps she’d worn with her gown. Should she change into something more comfortable, she wondered, or would that be too clichéd? She opted to remain dressed in her golden shimmer of a dress and, holding up the hem so she wouldn’t catch her feet in it and fall flat on her face, she walked back into the living room.

  “Find everything you need?” she called out to Jackson, whom she could see hovering in the kitchen.

  “Just warming the milk,” he said.

  She realized he was watching a pot on the stove. “You can use the microwave, you know.”

  “When you’re going to do something, you have to do it properly,” he said firmly. “No shortcuts.”

  She’d always loved that about him. Loved his intensity and attention to detail. Especially when they’d made love. She derailed that train of thought the moment it thundered down the track. Regrettably, her body didn’t get the signal, because a slow curl of desire uncoiled from deep inside her and sent a heated flush across her skin. She focused instead on perching on a breakfast barstool, and watched Jackson as he moved confidently around her kitchen. He added the cocoa, two spoons of sugar for her mug, then poured the steaming hot milk on top, stirring it and dressing it up with the mini marshmallows she kept in the pantry for exactly that purpose, but never got around to using herself.

  His own, he kept unsweetened. Cocoa, hot milk and the bare minimum of marshmallows, that was it. No fuss, no frills. And he’d always been like that. Take his attire tonight, for example. Perfectly dressed in a simple tuxedo that couldn’t have been cheap, but his cuff links were plain and unobtrusive and his shoes were good quality but not a statement of wealth or entitlement. His hair was groomed, without being in the latest, trendsetting style, but still managed to make him look elegant. With Jackson there was nothing out of place, but nothing unnecessary or extra to attract the eye, either. Nothing except himself, that is, she thought ruefully.