Christmas in the Boss's Castle

by Scarlet Wilson

  She marched straight up under his chin, her eyes flashing madly. ‘I’ll tell you exactly why, Finlay Armstrong.’ She pushed her finger into his chest. ‘I am so much better than this.’ She shook her head fiercely. ‘I am not having a three-way relationship with a ghost. You can’t move on because you won’t let yourself. I don’t want to spend my life living in the shadow of another woman. I don’t deserve it and I don’t need this. Don’t come in here and offer me a tiny piece of yourself, Finlay. I don’t want that. It’s not enough. It will never be enough.’ The fury started to dissipate from her voice. She took a step backwards. Her hand was shaking.

  He saw her suck in a breath and pull herself back up. The expression in her brown eyes just about ripped out his soul. He’d tried to conjure up some remedy, some patchwork arrangement that might work. But his misplaced idea had backfired spectacularly.

  ‘I want a change of shifts. I don’t want to be around when you’re here. I’m going to speak to Clio about a transfer. We work in the Corminster across town. I’ll ask if I can do my shifts there instead.’

  ‘What?’ Panic gripped him like a hand around his throat.

  Her eyes focused on the door. She started walking straight towards it. Her shoulders seemed straighter, her head lift stronger. ‘You’ll have my resignation in the morning. I’ll make it official and keep everything above board.’

  For the briefest of pauses her footsteps faltered. There was so much circulating in his head. This was exactly what he didn’t want. This was the absolute opposite of what he wanted.

  Grace’s voice softened for a second. ‘Goodbye, Finlay,’ she said as she opened the door and left.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  HE’D BEEN ON the roof most of the night. It was Frank who finally found him.

  ‘Mr Armstrong? What are you doing? Why—you’re freezing.’ Frank whipped off his jacket and put it around his shoulders.

  He hadn’t meant to stay up here so long. But the frustration in him had built so much that he’d punched a wall in the penthouse and knew he had to get outside and away from anyone. The roof had been the ideal solution. Too bad he hadn’t thought to bring a coat.

  One hand held the ceramic angel. He’d pushed it into his pocket when he’d closed up the house. The other hand held the silver heart from Mrs Archer. One symbolised a lost love, the other a new.

  Looking out over the darkness of London, lit only by Christmas lights, had been haunting. Watching the sun start to rise behind Battersea Park and the Albert Bridge had been a whole new experience. It made him realise that the lights at Battersea Park should be purple instead of white and red. Purple seemed a much more festive colour.

  Frank’s fierce grip pulled him to his feet and over to the stairs. The heat hit him as soon as he stepped inside again. He hadn’t realised he was quite so cold.

  Frank walked him down to the penthouse and made a quick phone call. ‘I’ve ordered you some breakfast and some coffee.’ He paused. ‘No, scrub that. Give me a second.’ He picked up the phone again and spoke quietly before replacing it. ‘I’ve ordered something more appropriate.’ He walked over to the room thermostat and turned it up. He looked around the room, then left and scouted in the bathroom, coming back with a fleecy dressing gown that Finlay rarely wore. ‘Here, put that on too. I’m going to deal with something else. But I’ll be back up in ten minutes to check on you.’

  Heat was slowly but surely starting to permeate his body. His fingers were entirely white with almost a tinge of blue. They were starting to tingle as they warmed up.

  He was still staring at the Christmas decorations. He’d made so many mistakes. He just didn’t know where to start to try and put them right.

  He closed his eyes for a second, trying to wish away some of the things that he’d said. When Anna had died, he’d truly believed the biggest part of him had died too. It wasn’t true. Of course it wasn’t true. He just hadn’t been able to face up to his grief.

  Concentrating on business and only business had been his shield. His saviour. It had also been his vice.

  He’d let relationships with friends deteriorate. He’d shunned any pity or sympathy. It was so much easier to shut himself off from the world. A wave of embarrassment swept over him as he realised he’d also shut out his mum, dad and sister.

  His sister had got married two years ago. He hadn’t participated at all. He’d hardly even been able to bear attending. The occasion when he should have been happy for his sister, and dancing her around the marquee floor, he’d spent nursing a whiskey at the bar.

  Now, she was pregnant with her first child and clearly nervous. Had he even told her how delighted he was to be an uncle? How much he was looking forward to seeing her with her child in her arms?

  What kind of a person had he become?

  There was a ping at the door. Room service. The trolley was wheeled in. He lifted the silver platter. Pancakes, eggs and bacon. Unusual choice. He looked in the lower part of the trolley for the coffee.

  But there was no coffee. Instead, there was a hot chocolate, piled high with cream and marshmallows and dusted with chocolate.

  He sagged back into his chair. Frank. How did he know?

  The first sip was all it took. Two minutes later he was tearing into the pancakes, eggs and bacon. He flipped open his computer and did a quick search, made a few calls.

  Then he made another.

  ‘Mum? Hi. Yeah... Yeah... I’m fine. Well, I’m not fine. But let me handle that. I wanted to ask a favour. How would you feel about supervising the staff from a cleaning and restoration company for me? They can be there on the sixth of January.’

  It was amazing. Just one simple but major act made him feel as though a huge dark cloud had been pushed off into the distance.

  She spoke for a long, long time. Finlay knew better than to interrupt. He just gave the occasional, ‘Yes...yes...yes...thanks...’

  Her final words brought tears to a grown man’s eyes. He put the phone back down as Frank came into the room.

  The room seemed brighter, the early-morning sun sending a yellow streak across the room. Frank looked approvingly at the empty plate. ‘Good, you’ve eaten. You’re looking a bit more like yourself.’ He bit his lip.

  Finlay stood up. He wanted to shower and get changed. The more his head cleared, the stronger his heart pounded. For the first time in five years he had personal clarity. His business acumen had never been affected, but his own life?

  It was time to finally get started.

  Frank was still standing.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘You have a guest. She wanted to leave something in your office. But I told her to come upstairs.’

  Finlay caught his breath. Frank’s face was serious. ‘I’ll take this,’ he said briskly as he stepped forward for the empty tray. His face was impartial but his muttered words weren’t. ‘Don’t you dare upset her. Just don’t.’

  Somehow he got the feeling that if he were the last man on a sinking ship right now, Frank wouldn’t let him in the lifeboat. Frank’s green coat disappeared.

  There could only be one person that would cause this type of fatherly protection in Frank.

  The heart that had already been pounding started to race to a sprint. ‘Grace?’

  He stuck his head out of the door. Grace was standing rigid, a white envelope clutched in one hand.

  ‘Grace?’

  Her steely gaze met his. He’d never seen her look quite so determined. His heart gave a little surge.

  She straightened her shoulders. She was wearing a classy black wool coat, with an unusual cut. It emphasised her small waist. There were red skirts sticking out from the bottom of the coat and he could see the red collar at her neck.

  But there was something else—a real assuredness about her. His heart swelled
a little. Grace just got more spectacular every time he saw her.

  She marched forward and thrust the envelope towards him. ‘I just wanted to leave this for you, but Frank insisted I spoke to you. My resignation.’

  It was as if all his best dreams and worst nightmares had decided to cram themselves into one hour of his life.

  Grace’s hair was styled a little differently and her lips were outlined in red.

  She looked vaguely familiar and it took a few seconds to realise why. ‘You look like Alice Archer,’ he said quietly. His hand reached up to touch her hair but Grace flinched backwards. He swallowed. ‘The only thing different is your hair colour. You look amazing, Grace.’

  Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Really?’

  As he realised what he’d just said he gave a nervous laugh. ‘I mean it, though. I do.’

  She was still holding out the envelope towards him. She had her black leather gloves on that he’d bought her. He shook his head. ‘I’m not taking it.’

  Her brow furrowed. ‘You have to. You can’t stop me resigning.’ His reaction seemed to spur her on. ‘There’s no way you can stop me. I’ve made plans. I’m transferring my shifts. I’ve enrolled at college to do interior design and Clio will give me shifts that suit. I’m moving on, Finlay. I’m not going to stay here and watch you walk about in a fog for the rest of your life.’

  There were rosy spots on her cheeks. There was an edge of determination to her. He loved it. He loved everything about it.

  He walked over and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Grace, that’s the best thing I’ve heard this year. You will be a fantastic interior designer. You are a fantastic interior designer. I can’t think of anything more perfect for you. But you don’t need to leave here to do that.’

  There was an almost startled expression on her face. ‘Yes. Yes, I do. I can’t be around you, Finlay. I won’t be around you.’

  His heart twisted inside his chest. ‘Not even if I tell you that I love you? Not even if I tell you I’ve been a complete fool?’ He stopped to draw breath. ‘Grace, for the first time in years you’ve made me wake up and look around. I wasn’t paying attention to life—oh, I thought I was, but not really, not the way I should have.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. He wished he’d showered. He wished he’d changed out of the clothes he’d spent all night wearing on the roof. He put his hands on his hips. ‘It wasn’t just Drumegan Castle that I neglected. It was everything else too.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  He reached out for her hands. ‘It means everything, Grace. I think I have been ready to move on. The only person that hadn’t acknowledged that was me.’

  She shook her head as he clutched her hands even tighter.

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this any more. I’ve forgotten every rule of dating that I ever knew.’ He pressed one hand against his heart. ‘All I know is that ever since I met you, I’ve felt alive again. I’ve woken up and had something to look forward to. I’ll never forget Anna, but, for a few days there, I felt guilty because I’d hardly thought about her at all. My mind was just filled with you, Grace. Every time you smiled, every time you winked at me, every time you looked sad. The way you loved Christmas. When you shared with me about your grandmother. But I looked at you, and your capacity to love, and wondered if I could ever meet that. Ever fulfil that for you.’

  Grace blinked and licked her red lips. Her gaze was steady. ‘What are you doing, Finlay? Where has this come from?’

  He laughed and pointed to his head. ‘In here.’ Then his heart. ‘And in here. I spent most of last night sitting on the roof trying to get my head in order. You know, after a while, you start to think the Battersea Power Station lights should be purple.’

  The edges of her lips curled upwards for a few seconds. ‘But I still want everything. I don’t want half a relationship. Anna’s gone, Finlay. But I’m not. I’m here. I won’t share. Not with anyone dead or alive.’

  She was deadly serious. It was written all over her face and it just made his heart ache all the more for the pain he’d caused her. ‘I love you, Grace Ellis. How long does it officially take people to fall in love? Can it happen in a few hours, a few days, a few weeks? Because that’s what it feels like to me. I’m sorry for what I said in the helicopter. I’m sorry for what I suggested yesterday. I don’t want just to see you now and then. I want to see you every single day.’ He reached over and touched her cheek. ‘Every single day for the rest of my life.’

  Her eyes were wet. He could see her struggle to swallow. ‘I don’t know, Finlay. I just don’t know. You hurt me.’

  His hands were shaking by now. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I can’t promise that I’m good at all this. But what I can promise is that every day, for the rest of my life, I’ll try and show you how much I love you. How much you mean to me. Will you let me, Grace? Will you let me try?’

  He pulled his hands back. He had to give her space. He had to respect her wishes. He’d already trampled all over her heart once.

  She turned and looked out of the window, across the snow-dusted rooftops of London.

  ‘How long were you up on that roof?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘How long were you up on that roof?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure. I went up to try and clear my head. It must have been the early hours. I was there until Frank found me this morning.’

  ‘And you didn’t freeze to death?’

  He could see her watching his reflection in the glass. ‘Not yet. There wasn’t enough snow. And I didn’t have anyone to make snow angels with. It didn’t seem like the right place, or the right time.’

  ‘How do I know any of this is true?’

  He nodded and walked over to the kitchen counter. ‘When I phoned my mother this morning about cleaning up the castle, she threatened me with grievous bodily harm if I came back to visit without you.’

  She spun around. ‘So, your mother wants you to date me?’

  He smiled. ‘No, my mother wants me to marry you. But I have to beg for forgiveness first.’

  She sucked in a breath and pulled her hands around herself. She rocked back and forth a little. ‘You’re going to clean up the castle?’

  He nodded. ‘Starting January the sixth. Once it’s clean, I will probably need to hire an interior designer to help me redecorate.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Can you think of anyone I might ask?’

  She took a step closer to the counter. ‘I might do. You should think about the person who thought purple was such a Christmas colour. She decorated one of the most exclusive hotels in London.’ He nodded and smiled as she added, ‘But I’ve heard she’s expensive.’

  He picked up the decorations from the counter top. ‘There’s one last thing I need to do. To make this official. To make this right.’ He held out his hand towards her. ‘Will you come with me?’

  She looked at his hand for a second before finally reaching out and sliding her hand into his. He walked them over to the private elevator, pressing buttons to take them to the ground floor.

  It was New Year’s Eve. The hotel was busy with guests staying for the New Year’s celebrations. Finlay ignored them all. He strode across the foyer with Grace’s hand in his, only slowing down when they reached the main Christmas tree.

  He took a deep breath. ‘A few weeks ago you found something and set it on my pillow.’ He pulled the ceramic angel from his pocket and lifted it, hanging it on the tree. ‘You also remembered to bring it to Scotland with us.’ He lifted his hand towards it. ‘It’s a memory. One that I will treasure and respect.’ He pulled something else from his pocket. ‘But I have another gift.’ He nodded his head and smiled. ‘This one was left in my office. It’s from a mutual friend. Discreet. Knowledgeable. With more finesse in her little finger than I can ever hope to achieve in my life.’ He lif
ted up the silver heart and hung it on the tree in front of them. ‘Alice gave me this before we’d ever met. She knew before I did, before we did, the potential that was in the air.’

  He spun the silver heart around so Grace could see the engraving.

  She read it out slowly. ‘“Memories are special in every single way, But new memories can be made every single day.”’ She gasped and put her hand to her mouth. ‘Alice gave you that?’

  He nodded as he turned Grace around and slid his arms around her waist.

  ‘How do you feel about making some new memories, for The Armstrong, and for Drumegan Castle?’

  She smiled and wound her arms around his neck. ‘I think I might have to be persuaded.’

  He caught the twinkle in her eye. ‘And how might I do that?’

  She laughed. ‘I can think of a few ways.’ Then stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

  He picked her up and swung her around. ‘Grace Ellis, we’re in public!’ He put her feet back on the floor. ‘But we’ve got to start somewhere.’

  And so he kissed her—again and again and again.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from HER FESTIVE DOORSTEP BABY by Kate Hardy.

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