by Claire Adams
“You feeling all right?” Cole asked. He reached out and touched my stomach, which, at seven months pregnant, was large and unwieldy. As he said it, I could feel the baby kick and squirm inside of me, a feeling that would never get old, even when it was happening at 2 in the morning and keeping me up.
“Yeah, I feel great,” I said, even though my lower back was a little sore from carrying all this extra weight around, and my feet were definitely tired. But aside from that, I really did feel great. I had never imagined when I moved up to Maine and into that little house that my next door neighbor would end up being the love of my life, the man I would marry. We’d gotten married last year on the coast of Maine, standing on a rocky ledge with a stunning view of the Atlantic Ocean. Four months later, I found out I was pregnant.
It wasn’t exactly how we had planned it, though we were both beyond excited. Declan was, too, and everyone else was dying to know if it was a boy or a girl, which we planned to announce at the party later today.
“Do you think we should make them wait?” Cole asked. “Not make the announcement until maybe the end of the party?”
I laughed. “Yeah right, good luck with that. You know that’s all they’re going to be able to talk about. They’re probably going to walk in the door, and that’s the first thing they’re going to want to know.”
“You’re probably right,” he said. “Maybe we should just tell everyone that we decided not to find out after all.”
We almost had decided to forego finding out the gender at the 20-week ultrasound. There were so few true surprises left in the world, it seemed (the good kind, anyway), but I wanted to know ahead of time; I wanted to paint the nursery and get some baby clothes, and not just the gender-neutral kind.
“I have been thinking about names,” I said.
“Oh, have you? I’m sure my mother will come with a list of ones she hopes we use.”
“My mom probably will, too. But... I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I think I know what I’d like to name the baby. If it’s okay with you.”
“Okay,” he said. “What?”
I paused. “Marissa.”
I’d known from the beginning that if the baby turned out to be a girl, that I wanted to call her that. And after the big ultrasound and we found out the baby was indeed a girl, I’d taken to referring to her as Marissa when I’d talk to her in my head. Yet now as I stood there, having just told Cole, I felt a flare of uncertainty; was it wrong of me to suggest that? I had never met Marissa, after all, though by now I’d seen pictures of her, and Cole and his parents had told me stories about her, and she seemed like someone that I probably would have been friends with, if she were still alive.
Cole’s expression was hard to read; his face didn’t immediately break out into a smile, though he wasn’t frowning, either. But just when I was about to say that we could think of something else if he wanted to, he pressed his lips together and nodded. His eyes had misted over.
“I think that would be perfect,” he said softly. “I really do.”
“Me too.”
He put his arms around me and pulled me toward him. “I love you, Allie,” he said. “And our daughter.”
“I love the both of you,” I said. He smiled, and I leaned in and kissed him. I felt baby Marissa kick inside me, as if she was saying I love you too.
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Christmas Virgin
Christmas Virgin
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
Chapter 1
Tristan
“Fuck, sorry man,” I said for the second time in ten minutes. “I’m going to have to put you on hold again.”
Jason laughed. “Geez, ever since you opened this latest resort, your old friends have become second class citizens, huh?”
“All except you,” I assured him. “You’ll always be a VIP in my books. It’s just I told my assistant to patch through only the really important calls and…”
“I get it,” he replied, with an amused laugh. “Go ahead, I’ll hold.”
“Good man,” I nodded before putting him on hold. I pressed a button on the intercom and switched lines. “Ben?” I asked. “What is it?”
“I just got a call from a Ms. Renata Mendez requesting a suite and two rooms for four nights from the twenty-fifth to the twenty-ninth,” he replied.
“We’re not opening to the public till after Christmas,” I reminded him, slightly annoyed that he would interrupt my call for this. “It’s only invited VIP guests till then. You know that.”
“Renata Mendez is personal coordinator to Joseph Everett,” Ben replied dryly.
I frowned. “That name sounds familiar… Wait… Senator Joseph Everett?”
“The very same,” Ben replied, sounding smug. “Should I tell him to fuck off?”
“Very funny,” I replied sarcastically. “Contact Alani and tell her to get the rooms ready. This will bode really well for the resort’s reputation.”
“Should I put the senator in the deluxe suite or the superior suite?”
“The grand suite,” I said promptly. “It’s the best.”
“They’re all occupied.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “We have five grand suites. They can’t all be occupied.”
“Three of them are, and the remaining two are still under construction. They won’t be ready for guests until the second week of December…at least.”
“Fuck,” I groaned. “Fine, move my belongings to one of the vacant superior suites and give the senator my grand.”
“I’ll get it done,” he replied.
Once Ben had hung up, I switched back to Jason’s line. “Sorry, bro,” I said. “Duty calls.”
“So how have things been going?” Jason asked.
“Smoother than my last two openings,” I admitted. “I think I’m finally getting the hang of this. The trick is to hire a few competent coordinators and then delegate effectively.”
“Is that all?” he teased.
“Trust me, it’s harder than it seems,” I said. “By the way, I can’t thank you enough for introducing me to Jordan and Manning. I don’t think I would have been able to get this resort opened had it not been for their investments.”
“They were looking to invest,” he said, blowing off my thank you. “I just pointed them in your direction. You’re the one who managed to win them over.”
I smiled. “I guess you didn’t do much then, huh?”
“Not really.”
“And to think, I was going to offer to fly you down to Oahu to spend a couple of weeks in one of our luxury suites.”
“You know… Now that I think about it, those contacts were pretty significant.”
I laughed, and Jason joined in. “I’m serious about that offer though,” I told him. “Just say the word, and I’ll have a plane ticket and a suite ready for you.”
“I appreciate that, man,” he replied. “But I’m swamped with work at the moment. There’s this new acquisition deal in the works, and I need to be there to oversee it.”
“You’re buying another company?”
“Stoles,” he replied. “Heard of it?”
“Of course I’ve heard of it, fuck,” I said. “I actually own a pair of Stoles. Their shoes are great.”
“I agree,” Jason agreed. “Hence the acquisition.”
“Damn,” I said. “And, I thought I was doing well for myself.”
Jason laughed. “I think it’s safe to say we’re both doing pretty well for ourselves,” he said. “Personally, I
feel it has less to do with our talents, and more do to with our superior good looks.”
“Oh, I couldn’t agree more,” I laughed. “Everyone has talent in some form or the other, but not everyone can look like us.”
“Too true,” he laughed. Then his tone softened into seriousness. “Sometimes I can’t quite believe it. Did you ever think we would get this far, this fast?”
“Fuck, no,” I replied. “I wasn’t even sure I wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps.”
“I remember,” Jason agreed. “You were dead set on being a rebel. What was your life’s goal again? Musician?”
I snorted. “DJ,” I admitted. “I was fairly decent at mixing tracks.”
Jason laughed. “I remember that New Year’s party during our junior year. You bulldozed the DJ, what was his name… Z-crack?”
“It was Z-track,” I corrected. “And, I didn’t bulldoze anyone. The dipshit was stoned off his ass and passed out after the third cover. I had to take over.”
“You weren’t half bad,” Jason laughed. “Is it possible you missed your calling?”
“Nope,” I said confidently. “I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“Your dad would be so proud of everything you’ve been able to achieve.”
I fell silent for a moment. Thinking of Dad was always hard for me. We had clashed a lot when I was a teenager. I had thought he was too hard on me, and he was worried I didn’t have what it took to run the business he had built from scratch. It was only after he had been diagnosed with Hodgkin’s that our relationship had started to shift.
The knowledge that we didn’t have very much time left with each other lifted the strain between us. I became more involved with Dad’s projects and started to understand why he had been so hard on me growing up. He was trying to prepare me, he was trying to groom me to take over, and that required a staunch work ethic and a lot of sacrifices.
“I think he would have been,” I replied. “I just wish he could have seen it all happen. He died just before my first hotel opening in LA, so he never got to see the hotel’s success.”
“I remember,” Jason said. “But you still managed to get it done.”
“I promised him I would,” I recalled.
I turned around on my swivel chair to look at the spectacular view before me. The ocean was rippled with competing hues of peacock green and aquamarine blue. Its surface seemed to be encrusted with millions and millions of diamonds cascading down from the sun’s gentle rays. The soft, powdery white sand of the beach had a glowing look about it, and the leaves of the ironwood and coconut trees that lined the coast blew gently in the breeze. It was an idyllic setting and by far the most beautiful location of all my hotels and resorts.
Dad had always dreamed of opening a resort in Hawaii, and I was finally seeing that dream come to fruition. It was a bittersweet sense of accomplishment to know that he would never see it.
“So, anyway,” I said, trying to focus on the conversation at hand. “How are you? How are things with Brittany? Or was it Cassandra?”
Jason laughed. “Brittany and Cassandra were both three years ago, man.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup. The current lady in my life is work, and to be honest, she can be a bit of a bitch sometimes.”
“Hey, I feel you,” I nodded. “There’s no time for relationships anymore.”
“That was why Simone and I broke up in the first place,” Jason told me.
“Simone!” I exclaimed. “That was her name. Sorry… Continue.”
He laughed. “I was just working all the time. I kept bailing on dinner dates, disappearing right after sex, taking phone calls during our time together.”
“She broke it off?”
“Yeah,” he said. “And honestly… I was relieved.”
“Sounds like the story of my life,” I shared. “The same thing happened with Megan last year. She kept getting frustrated with the hours I worked. She actually threw a hissy fit at a business dinner I threw. I broke up with her that night after the dinner.”
“Cold.”
“I think that’s when I realized that I was attempting too much,” I said. “Juggling a new relationship and a fully-fledged empire is not easy. I had to choose—and my empire won.”
“I hope you didn’t say that to her.”
I laughed. “She’s the type of woman who throws things when she’s angry, so no, I didn’t say that to her. In any case, casual flings are just more convenient.”
“Amen for casual sex,” he agreed.
I laughed. “Anyway… How’s the family?”
“They’re doing great,” he replied. “I’m with them at the moment actually, down at the parents’ house for the weekend. Mom’s busy with her book club and her charities, and Dad… Well, you know Dad. He’s still working like he’s in his twenties. Molly’s here, too.”
Molly. It had been years since I’d seen her. She was Jason’s younger sister and one of those timelessly classical beauties. She had sultry blue eyes, soft features, and the simple elegance of a 1960s movie star. In fact, she looked very similar to a young Grace Kelly.
“How is Molly?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light and innocent.
“She’s…okay,” he replied.
“You don’t sound sure.”
“She’s a little upset, to be honest,” Jason replied, with a sigh. “She just got laid off.”
“What?” I said, in surprise. “She’s amazing at her job.”
“The company went through a major downsizing…bad management, apparently. They let go of over two thousand employees and only the senior members of staff got priority. Since Molly’s only been working there two years, she got the boot.”
“Fuck, that’s terrible,” I said.
“She got a decent severance package,” he told me. “It should hold her for a few months, but she really loved the job and the people she worked with. So, she’s disappointed.”
“Of course,” I nodded sympathetically.
I wondered what Molly looked like now. The last time I had seen her, we had both been closer to kids than adults. Had she changed very much or was she the same shy young girl I remembered? I wondered. I realized that I had frozen her in time and created one brilliantly clear image of her in my head that never wavered. It was the image of her in a white dress, standing under streams of holly.
“I have an idea,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
“Uh… What?”
“Why don’t you send Molly down here?” I suggested. “Since you’re not going to be able to use that plane ticket and suite on offer, Molly may as well make use of it. It might help cheer her up. And who knows? There could even be a job in it for her.”
“You’re offering my sister a job?”
I hesitated a moment, wondering if there was a hint of suspicion in Jason’s tone. I decided I was simply over-thinking. “Well… I still have a few staff positions I need to fill. I need a head of human resources, and I know Molly’s great at her job.
“But, of course, there’s no pressure. It would be up to Molly to decide if she wanted to take the job or not. She can spend a few weeks in Oahu, relax and unwind, and see if she likes the atmosphere. If not, she’s got a free vacation in Hawaii. It’s a win-win, right?”
I wondered momentarily if I was overselling a bit.
“Fuck,” Jason breathed. “That’s a great offer, man. But…you know you don’t have to do this for me.”
Of course, Jason would assume I was making the offer because of our friendship. It was obvious that Molly had kept silent about what had happened between us all those years ago.
“Hey, what are friends for?” I said. “Besides, what’s the point of owning a luxury resort if you can’t help out a friend every now and again.”
“Geez, you’re a fucking star, dude,” he said. “I’ll pass the offer along.”
“Great,” I said. “Anyway… I’d better get going. I have a meeting
with my Japanese investor in seven minutes.”
“Man on the go, huh?”
“Always.”
“More power to you, bro,” he laughed. “Talk soon.”
After I hung up, I turned back to my perfect view. I tried to suppress my feelings, but it was impossible to deny how much I was hoping Molly would accept my offer to stay at the resort. I wondered if I was being a complete fool, opening up a can of worms best left in the past.
Chapter 2
Molly
I scrolled down to find a grainy picture of Martin Lithgow getting into his car, besieged by a storm of reporters. He was wearing dark sunglasses, and the collar of his coat had been turned up so I couldn’t really see his face, but I hoped he was feeling the burn of his latest mistake.
All the papers basically printed different versions of the same story. None of them gave me any sense of satisfaction. I couldn’t help feeling depressed when I thought about my next move. Starting all over again in a new company was never easy, and all I had was a stock recommendation letter that was probably handed out to every single other employee who was given the boot.
I sighed and looked around my childhood room. Three of the walls were white, and the fourth was a soft ocean blue. The white walls had been covered over with a plethora of posters. Over my bed, there were two framed posters, one depicted Thirty Seconds to Mars, and the other was a poster of Clockwork Orange.
Mom had kept my room like a shrine, and while it was always comforting to be back in the room where I had done my most profound maturing, today it made me a little sad. For the first time since I’d graduated, I was unemployed and floundering. It made me feel like a complete failure, especially compared to my brother’s meteoric rise to the top.
That was only part of the reason for my deflated mood, however. I kept thinking of all the people I had worked with who had been laid off, too. I knew their families and their problems, and I couldn’t help but feel for them.
