Lewis smiled sadly.
“I did tell you off,” he said. “And I felt rotten for it. So I bought you the book to say sorry. I wrapped it and hid it beneath the tree, and I was going to be there when you opened it, only something came up. I can’t remember what, store business. It was always store business.” He sighed. “So your mom did it.”
Lewis looked up at him, and Christian noticed that for the first time in his life he was taller than his father.
“You might not remember it, son, but we did have good times, lots of them, even after she died. Every Christmas Eve we sat right here and opened new books, reading them by the fire. I wish I’d been there for you more, there’s not a day that goes by I don’t wish I did things differently, or that we had the chance to do it again. But hey, we don’t get to turn back time. We only get to look forward, right?”
“Right,” said Christian, feeling the tears build up behind his eyes again. He hadn’t expected this at all, and the sudden rush of emotion paralyzed him. His dad wheezed in a breath, coughing loudly. Then he took Christian’s hand in his, his skin as cold as marble. For a moment, he wondered if his father was going to tell him he loved him. But it was just store business. It was always store business.
“You’re here. You have something to tell me?”
“I do,” said Christian, sighing. He held his father for a moment, then let go. “I found something out.”
His dad’s expression sharpened.
“Yeah?” the old man said.
“Yeah,” said Christian, taking a deep breath. “Somebody is paying people to leave Carroll’s. Somebody is deliberately sabotaging the store.”
His dad’s breaths came in great, gulping wheezes as he took in what he was being told.
“Somebody is giving cash payouts to anyone who leaves,” Christian went on. “Somebody wants this business to die. At first, I thought it might be another store, somebody trying to put Carroll’s under before Christmas. But then I did some digging. Dad, I know who’s doing this.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Lewis. “It’s not Amy.”
“Are you sure?” Christian asked. “She’s got a lot to gain.”
“And a lot to lose,” his dad said. “Amy’s been good to me. If she was my own daughter, then she would be in charge, I have no doubt about it. It’s not too late, you know.”
“Too late for what?” Christian asked, frowning.
“For you and her to make it work. That’s what I wanted. It’s what I still want. I wanted a strong marriage, I wanted you to work together to make the company thrive. If you and Amy married then she’d have my name, and she—”
“Dad, whoa,” said Christian, holding up a hand. “This isn’t medieval England, you can’t just marry your children to whoever you want. Amy and I didn’t work out because she’s ruthless, she’ll do anything to get what she wants. If she thinks she can get what she wants by bringing the store to its knees, then marching in to save it, then that’s exactly what she’ll do. Either that or somebody else has promised her the top job in another company if she can force us into bankruptcy.”
“It’s not that bad,” said his dad.
“It is,” said Christian. “We’re just two weeks away from Christmas and the store is sinking fast. There’s nobody out there any more, people are leaving without buying, they’re going elsewhere.”
“So, you save it,” said his dad, looking right at him. “Quit your job overseas, come back to us full time—not as a janitor, but as the CEO.”
“I…”
Christian hesitated, a thought needling itself into the back of his brain. This encounter had been so unexpected. His dad had always been one to launch straight into an argument, to avoid any kind of emotional exchange. But he was being so open, so honest.
It’s because he’s dying, Christian thought, chasing the unbearable words away with a shake of his head. But it was true. Nothing made you more honest than death. Nothing made you more open to reconciliation.
Nothing made you more desperate.
“It’s not Amy,” Christian said, the realization like a flashbang going off inside his skull. “Oh dad, no. It’s you. You’re paying people off, you’re bringing down the store.”
His dad didn’t look at him, he just stared at the fire, his sad eyes full of reflected flames.
“But why, dad? It doesn’t make any sense.”
Only it did make sense, it made an awful kind of sense.
“It was the only way,” Lewis said after a moment.
“The only way to bring me back,” said Christian. “But you could have just asked, you could have just opened up to me.”
“I did ask,” said his father. “I asked a hundred times. I just didn’t ask the way I should have. Then it was too late. I knew that you wouldn’t come back for me, but that you might come back for the store. Let’s face it, in some ways it was more of a parent to you than I ever was. It sheltered you, it cared for you, it was always there for you.”
Lewis sighed, then turned to Christian. A tear wound its way over the wrinkles of his face and Christian watched it, aghast. He couldn’t ever remember seeing his father cry before.
“I’m not trying to sabotage the store,” he said. “I just wanted you back in my life. I don’t know how long I’ve got, I just wanted the chance to see you again, to make it all okay. And you’re here, which means so much to me. You’re here, and you care—about me, about the store, about everything.”
“Of course I do, dad,” Christian said. “Always. I love you.”
“I love you too, son,” his dad said, opening his arms. Christian held his father, feeling how weak he was, hearing the rattle of his lungs as he breathed. He was shocked, and there was a trace of anger there at what he’d just discovered, but it was drowned by the force of the love his still held for the old man. His head was full of memories, they flowed into his mind like a dam had burst—memories of trips to the park, to the zoo, out on the boat on the river. Memories of his mom and dad lifting him up between them in the fall, the falling leaves like flames. And memories of Christmas, those early years when he’d woken up in the morning and found his father cooking breakfast in the kitchen, a mountain of presents beneath the tree.
His dad was right, there had been good times. But Christian had been so focused on the bad that he’d forgotten them.
“I just want you to be happy, Christian,” his dad said, pulling away and coughing violently. “I want you to be happy, and to be here. It’s not much to ask, is it? Let’s make this a new start. This is the last chapter of my life, son, so let’s read this one together, please?”
Christian looked down at the fire, feeling the warmth of it against his skin, losing himself in the flickering flames. If he could just make it work with Merry, then being happy and being here, in New York, wasn’t much to ask at all.
He took a deep breath, making a decision right there.
“I’ll stay.”
For his dad, for the store, and for Merry.
22
Merry woke from dreams of ice skating, stretching out her legs beneath her covers and yawning her way into the morning. It took her a moment to work out what she was holding in her arms, hugging tight to her chest. It was the dress that Christian had bought her last night.
So it wasn’t a dream, then, she told herself, pressing her face to the fabric and breathing it in. She giggled into it, then ran squealing through the cold into the bathroom. All she wanted to do was put the dress on now, and the shoes, then dance the night away with Christian by her side. Even though they hadn’t had the smoothest start to their relationship, she was so sure about him. In fact, she’d never been more sure about anybody. The way he had treated her last night, his kindness and compassion and generosity, it had shown her the kind of man she would happily spend the rest of her life with. It was far too early to tell, of course, but she thought it anyway…
“I love you, Christian,” she shouted into the shower as the stea
my water thundered around her. She giggled again, feeling like a schoolgirl with her first crush.
Of course, she couldn’t put the dress on yet. She had a shift to work first, but luckily the store closed at three today to enable everyone to get ready for the dance. She was so excited. Even if she hadn’t been going with Christian she would have been excited. The Carroll’s Christmas Ball was legendary in New York. Although it wasn’t open to the general public, tickets were auctioned off throughout the year to charities and good causes. According to all reports the buffet was amazing, the live music was incredible, and the evening was like the prince’s ball in Cinderella.
And this year, she got to go—complete with her own Prince Charming!
Packing everything carefully in her hold-all, she skipped across town, arriving at work five minutes early—which had to be a record for her. She hung the dress in her locker, giving the handbag a quick kiss before changing into her uniform. She hadn’t heard from Christian at all since they’d parted, but then they hadn’t even exchanged numbers yet. In fact, she didn’t even know what his surname was. It made her think how fast this had moved—so quickly that it felt like a toboggan run. Part of her was worried they’d moved too quickly, that they should slow things down a bit. Not physically, of course, but certainly emotionally.
But part of her just wanted to ride with it. This had been her Christmas wish, after all, and it seemed that Santa had granted it, bells and whistles included.
The schedule told her that she was on greeter duty today, which was another bonus. She loved being at the front of the store, despite the freezing wind that blasted in from 5th Avenue. Putting on her itchy Santa hat, she made her way downstairs and offered a beaming smile to the first few customers of the day. There must have been something honest about it, because it was contagious. People looked at her and smiled back, their happiness providing a warmth that easily countered the cold.
Just after eleven, she heard a familiar rumble of wheels, and she turned to see Christian behind her. It was all she could do not to pounce into his arms.
“Hi!” she said, her cheeks erupting into a monster blush for absolutely no reason.
“Hey,” he said. “How are you?”
“Good,” she said. “Great! I’m so excited about the dance.”
“Me too,” he said. “I…” he stopped speaking, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “I missed you last night, after you’d left.”
A delighted laugh escaped Merry’s mouth before she could stop it, and she clapped a hand over her lips before the customers noticed.
“Really?” she said.
“Really,” he replied. He smiled at her, his deep, brown eyes big enough to lose herself in for days. “Sorry, that’s a really weird thing to say.”
“It’s not,” she said. “I mean, I missed you too. I dreamed about skating all night.”
Christian laughed, and he looked like he was going to say something else when somebody cleared their throat behind Merry. She spun around to see Mrs. Cradley there, the dragon lady tapping her foot impatiently. But there was a twinkle in her eye—even she couldn’t be entirely miserable on the day of the dance.
“I’m going!” Christian said, running off with his trolley. “I know, I know, those soap dispensers won’t fill themselves!”
Merry laughed, directing the next customer to the restaurant as Mrs. Cradley stalked away. The store was busier than ever, which at least made the time fly by. At 2:50pm the Christmas music stopped, and an announcement went out to say that the store was closing early. Half an hour later, the last few recalcitrant customers were shoehorned out of the building. Merry took off her hat and scratched her head, only to hear what sounded like an excited dolphin racing toward her.
“Squeeeee!”
She spun around in time to see Alice flying across the lobby. Her friend jumped up and down in delight.
“The ball! The ball!”
Merry laughed, taking Alice’s outstretched hands and letting her spin them both around.
“Aren’t you excited, Merry?” Alice asked. “It’s going to be so much fun. I can taste the champagne already!”
“That’s because she’s already cracked open a case or two,” said Trudy, walking up.
“I have not,” said Alice. “But I did sneak a canape earlier when the caterers came in. They’re delicious. Are you going to get changed?”
“It’s a little early, isn’t it?” said Merry. “It doesn’t start until seven, right?”
“That doesn’t stop three glamorous ladies from hitting the bar first,” said Trudy. “Anyone up for it?”
There was only one person in the entire city that Merry wanted to see right now, but she knew that Christian would be on duty getting the store ready for the ball. She didn’t really fancy drinks, but four hours was a long time to hang around by herself.
“Sure,” she said. “I’m game.”
They rode to the top floor in the customer elevators, and Merry grabbed her bag and her jacket, leaving everything else in her locker. She had to resist the temptation to pull the dress out of her locker and caress it, and she felt like crying when she shut the door and locked it away again.
They made their way down 5th Avenue to the same place where she and Christian had shared their hot chocolate. It felt like something that had happened years ago, Merry thought as they stepped out of the worsening weather into the warmth of the bar. It felt like the kind of memory she should be sharing with her children, or even her grandchildren. It was such a strange sensation—that her existence had only just begun when she’d met Christian, that she’d somehow lived a whole lifetime in these short few days. Nothing that had happened before that night felt real any more.
“Earth to Merry,” said Trudy, shaking her out of her daydream.
“She’s got it bad,” said Alice, smiling kindly.
“Oh yeah,” said Trudy. “She’s got it seriously bad.”
“I don’t!” squeaked Merry. “I’m just… tired.”
“Tired of being alone,” said Trudy with a laugh.
“Tired of not having a man to kiss,” added Alice, wrapping her arms around herself and smooching the air. Merry slapped her gently on the shoulder and they took a seat by the window, all of them giggling. Christmas songs were playing, and outside the sleet was slowing into snow—huge, fat flakes drifting down from the darkening sky. The lights were buzzing to life, breathing Christmas spirit into every building. The waitress—Diane’s cousin—took their orders, winking at Merry, and Merry found herself grinning so hard her cheeks hurt.
They ordered hot chocolates to start with, although Trudy had hers with a splash of rum. Even though Trudy and Alice chatted freely about work, and their lives outside the store, Merry found it difficult to keep up. The entirety of her mind was taken up by Christian—his glorious smile, his warm eyes, his infectious laugh, his strong arms, not to mention that kiss… Every time she found herself thinking of him she had to catch herself before her cheeks exploded.
“… reminds me,” Alice was saying when Merry had tuned into the conversation again. “There might not even be a job to go back to next year.”
“What do you mean?” Trudy asked.
“The store, haven’t you heard?” Alice leaned in and they all crowded around her. “It’s going under. Poor Lewis Carroll is ill, I heard he’s dying. The store won’t go on without him.”
“It has to,” said Merry. “I need this job.”
“At least we won’t have to answer to Cradley anymore,” laughed Alice.
“That’s true,” said Merry.
“Anyway, I heard that Carroll’s son is back in town,” said Trudy. “That he’s going to take over.”
“I didn’t know he had a son,” said Merry. Trudy nodded, taking a sip of her drink.
“Yeah, he used to work here, apparently, in the head office. He left, some disagreement or other. But anyway, I heard he’s back, and I heard he’s gorgeous.”
“Rich and gorgeous,” said Alice, purring. “I wonder if he’ll be there tonight?”
“I can think of a certain somebody who needs a rich boyfriend,” said Trudy, looking at Merry. Merry squirmed uncomfortably, remembering the conversation that Christian had overheard a couple of days ago.
“I don’t care how rich he is,” she said. “You can’t fall in love with a dollar bill.”
“That’s true enough,” said Alice, checking her cell phone. “Anyway, it’s nearly five. Shall we go change for the ball?”
The snow had doubled in strength, and they ran through it back to Carroll’s, bursting into the store like kids at Christmas. The absence of customers made the space look so much bigger, and the enormous Christmas tree rose majestically through the open levels. Everywhere Merry looked there were lights and ribbons, holly and mistletoe, baubles and tinsel. It made her heart feel light with happiness to see such festive joy.
They made their way up to the locker room together. Even though so many people had left the store recently, the place was still busy as people changed out of their uniforms and into their formal dresses. Merry marveled at the beautiful fabrics and striking colors, the sparkle of silver and the glint of gold. Everybody was chatting and laughing, the atmosphere positively electric, but when Merry opened her locker door and pulled out her dress the room fell eerily quiet.
“Oh my gosh,” said Trudy. “That’s a Storm dress.”
Merry turned around, holding the dress protectively against her chest. It clung to her, as though it wanted to be worn, the tiny bejeweled snowflakes flashing like diamonds. Trudy walked up, her eyes wide with sheer astonishment.
“I saw that dress in Vogue,” she said. “It was supposed to be for that actress, the Oscar winner, you know the one. It was custom designed by Devlin Storm himself but then they fell out and she never wore it. How… how on earth have you got it?”
Merry almost felt embarrassed, and she wondered if maybe it was too much, if maybe the sight of an ordinary girl like her in such a glorious and expensive dress would make people laugh—or make them angry. But she refused to let anything stop her from enjoying this moment. This was Christian’s gift to her, and that’s all that mattered.
My Christmas Billionaire Page 16
