Sunny's Christmas: A Colorado Billionaires story

by Regina Duke

  Sunny grinned. “Mr. Bronte wasn’t impressed. He gave me detention for a week.”

  “Yeah, but then your mother stomped into class the next day and challenged him to a math war, and when he backed down, she said he wasn’t smart enough to give her daughter detention.” He shook his head at the memory. “Your mother is quite the character.”

  “That’s a kind way to put it,” said Sunny. “She grounded me for a week for mocking my math teacher. Frankly, I would have preferred detention. She isn’t exactly a people pleaser.”

  A hostess with a sprig of Christmas holly in her hair led them to a small table for two. All the booths were packed with people.

  “I hope you’re not in a hurry,” she said. “Nobody’s going anywhere in this storm, and the cooks are a little behind. Can I bring you something to drink?”

  Brady lifted a questioning brow at Sunny.

  She said, “Coffee and a basket of bread would be perfect.”

  “Same for me,” said Brady.

  Once the hostess had poured their coffee and deposited a basket full of warm sourdough and a bowl of butter on the table, Brady leaned toward Sunny and said, “That bit about your mother not being a people pleaser?”

  “Yes?”

  “I think that had a lot to do with what happened to us on prom night. And afterward.”

  “Really?” Sunny buttered a slice of sourdough and bit into it. Her eyes rolled heavenward and she moaned. “This is so good.”

  “Fresh baked at The Muffin Man every day,” said Brady. “Did you know your mother and my dad were both applying for the same position back in the day?”

  “I knew they were both physicists. But in high school, my parents never told me anything about the realities of their lives. When I’d ask questions, mother would say it was all classified and she didn’t want me talking about it at school. As if I’d ever talk about my parents at school.”

  Brady chuckled. “Say, remember that time in drama class when I was supposed to present a skit for my final grade and instead the rest of the baseball team punked me and kept me out half the night?”

  Sunny smiled slyly. “Why, yes, I do remember that. It was the end of junior year. One of your buddies was so hung over, he puked outside the classroom door. Some night out you must have had, but you weren’t sick.”

  “Because I didn’t get drunk,” said Brady.

  “I remember how I saved your grade.”

  Brady smiled warmly. “You were awesome.” He spoke in a falsetto in a weak attempt to imitate Sunny’s voice. “Oh, Mrs. Dahms, Brady not only wrote his skit, but we’ve already rehearsed it. We’re ready to perform, aren’t we, Brady?” His voice went back to normal. “I shouldn’t have been surprised, not after the algebraic interpretive dance. You leaned in and said, ‘Improvise, you idiot.’ Sweetest words I ever heard.”

  Sunny laughed. “That was so much fun. Do you think she believed us?”

  “No way. She gave me a B for Bravery. That’s what she told my parents. I owe you for that.”

  Sunny grinned and buttered another slice of bread. “We did have some fun, didn’t we?”

  “I knew that day in drama class that I was going to take you to the senior prom.”

  “It was a year away! I hadn’t even decided that you were the hottest thing in school yet.”

  Brady’s eyes lit up. “The hottest? Really?”

  Sunny blushed and dropped her gaze to the piece of bread she’d just buttered. “Pretty hot. Compared to the other geeks at school.”

  Brady wagged a finger. “Too late. You said I was hot.”

  Sunny gave him a sarcastic smirk. “High school was eight years ago. A lot can change in eight years.”

  Brady’s features settled into a map of fond memories. “Yes, I suppose they can. And a lot can stay the same.” He reached across the small table and cupped her slender hands inside his manly ones.

  Sunny felt a tingle at his touch. Just like back in the day. She tilted her head to one side, still not sure if she should forgive his youthful betrayal. “You said something about our parents vying for the same job?”

  Brady patted her hands, then took a slice of sourdough. “That’s right.” His eyes narrowed in confusion. “Are you sure your mother never told you about her ambitions?”

  Sunny blew out a breath so forcefully her cheeks bellowed. “Are you sure you ever met my mother?”

  “Point taken. Uncommunicative. Stern. Driven.”

  “Totally driven.”

  “How about your dad? He didn’t tell you anything?”

  “If he were going to tell me anything, it would have been that night after the prom when he came and picked me up. I was a mess.” She dropped her gaze. “He took me out for burgers and shakes. He said he needed some comfort food.” She jerked her head up. “Wait. Why did he say that? I’m the one whose heart was breaking.”

  Brady nodded knowingly. “He said that because staying home with your mother when she found out about my father’s new job could not have been pleasant.”

  Sunny looked him in the eye. Fortified by warm bread and hot caffeine, she was ready for the truth. “Okay, out with it. Why the heck did you abandon me at the prom?”

  “I didn’t leave on purpose,” said Brady. “I was taken away by force.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  SUNNY STARED OPEN-MOUTHED. When she could find her voice, she said, “Now you’re telling me you were kidnapped?”

  “Not exactly.” Brady took a sip of coffee and cleared his throat. “It feels so strange, having to explain what happened. I mean, after writing all those letters.” He shook his head.

  Sunny rolled her eyes. “Which I never received. Are you sure you’re not pulling my leg?”

  Brady smiled softly at her. “Very sure.”

  Sunny felt her heart melting. Eight years felt like eight minutes. She had worked so hard at blotting out those high school memories, but a few hours in Brady’s presence and they all came rushing back. All the attraction, all the excitement… and all the heartbreak.

  They both spoke at the same moment.

  “You ruined my life,” said Sunny.

  “You broke my heart,” said Brady.

  They sat, stunned, staring into each other’s eyes. Then it happened again.

  “I never trusted another man.”

  “I never got serious with another girl.”

  Sunny’s eyes widened in surprise. She dropped her hands into her lap and began examining her fingertips.

  Brady scratched the nape of his neck. “Are we apologizing here? Or are we starting over?”

  “Do you want to?” asked Sunny. “Start over, I mean.”

  Brady took a careful breath. Just as he was about to reply, his phone rang. “Sorry. Hang on.” He took it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “I have to take this. I’ll just be a minute.” He smiled reassuringly and left the table.

  Sunny leaned back in her chair and wondered what in the world she was doing. First he had a logical explanation, and now he said he was kidnapped. Okay, he said he was “not exactly” kidnapped. Was she setting herself up for another heartbreak by Brady? She snorted a laugh. Maybe he should have business cards that read, “Heartbreak by Brady. Anytime. Anywhere.”

  Her weary mind unspooled its own TV commercial for Brady the Heartbreaker.

  “Hello, ladies,” he would say, speaking directly to the viewer. “Is life going too well? Wondering when the next big disappointment will come around the corner? Why leave it to chance? Take control. Call me, anytime day or night, and have your heart broken by an expert on your schedule. Heartbreak by Brady.” And then he would wink and blow a kiss.

  Yep, that should do it. He could be a rich man, breaking hearts by appointment.

  Glumly, she selected another piece of bread and slathered butter on it. She was obviously making a meal out of the bread basket, but that was okay, because the place was so packed, who knew when they would actually get more.

  Soft ligh
ts came on against some red velvet curtains on the lobby side of the restaurant. A moment later, the curtains opened slowly to reveal a baby grand piano in an alcove, and sitting at the keyboard was Vicky Darby from the Christmas Express. Without introduction, she began playing the piano. The room erupted in cheers and applause. Evidently most of the people present knew her. After the first carol, a lovely rendition of “What Child Is This?,” Sunny relaxed. Dinner and a concert. What was a woman with Vicky’s talent doing chaperoning old men on bus rides?

  After the third carol, she began to wonder if Brady was coming back. After the fourth, she began worrying about Peanut. After the fifth, she decided to go check on her dog. He was the one constant in her life. She wasn’t going to sit around and wait for Brady. She would never do that again. For all she knew, he had once again been taken away by force. A likely story.

  She stopped long enough to ask the hostess to charge what they ate and drank to her room number. Then she headed for the elevators, forcing herself to look straight ahead so it wouldn’t appear that she was looking for Brady.

  Peanut was lying on the bed, giving the impression that he was watching the Weather Channel with avid interest. Sunny picked him up and cuddled him. She carried him to the highboy to retrieve her single Christmas gift, then moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

  Did she want to open the box? It was the only gift she’d received this year, aside from plates of cookies from clients. Once she opened it, she felt like her Christmas would be over. And yet to honor her father, she had to open it early. After all, they were in collusion over their enjoyment of all things Christmas. Her mother hated the holidays and ended the decorating and the gift giving as soon as Sunny turned eighteen. Sunny remembered that the one thing that had irritated her mother the most was discovering that, in her rush to get Christmas over with by having everything done on Christmas eve, she had inadvertently created a tradition for her family. Now, sitting in her hotel room, staring at the brightly wrapped package from her dad, Sunny knew that he would want her to maintain the tradition they’d shared all those years, knowing secretly that it drove her mother crazy.

  With that in mind, Sunny set Peanut on the bed and hefted the box, moving it from hand to hand. She couldn’t guess what might be in it. It was too small to contain a sweater or a piece of clothing, yet it was way too big for a piece of jewelry. Her dad was not the kind of man who would wrap something up as a joke with another box inside, like stacked Russian dolls. That was something her mother would have done, but not her dad.

  Slowly and carefully she pulled the ribbon off the top, knowing he’d probably found it in a worn crinkly bag of ribbons saved from years gone by, but she didn’t care. She opened the paper one side at a time, admiring his skill with cellophane tape. He always made it invisible. Opening the package was one of the best parts.

  Once the paper was set aside, she saw that the little box had been preprinted with a Christmas motif. He had wrapped a box that did not need wrapping. Sunny laughed out loud. Peanut wagged at her and pounced on the discarded paper.

  “Touché, Dad,” said Sunny. Those over-the-top touches annoyed her mother beyond all reason, so of course they always made sure their gifts to each other were wrapped more gaudily than anyone else’s. The lid of the box was also taped shut. She carefully cut through the tape with her fingernail. She was afraid if she pulled it off it would ruin the design on the box, and she had a feeling that she’d want to keep this one for a long time.

  Then, as if defusing a bomb, she grasped the lid with a thumb and two fingers and gently lifted it.

  There was a pale green Post-it Note on top of the contents. Her father had printed neatly, “Found these while packing for Malaysia.” Even so, it took her a few moments to realize what she was looking at. There was a letter neatly folded in half on top of a box full of other folded envelopes. She picked it up and unfolded it. The handwriting was not her father’s, and yet the envelope was addressed to her. The return address was Las Vegas, Nevada. But the handwriting looked so familiar.

  The box was filled with old letters. She felt a pang of suspicion, but she could only read one at a time. She turned the first envelope over and saw that it had been opened.

  Her heart in her throat, she pulled the letter out of the envelope. It was written on five-by-eight lined paper, the kind sold in grocery stores expressly for letter writing. The vaguely familiar youthful scrawl called out to her. Suddenly she realized who had written it, and the years fell away as she read:

  Dear Sunny,

  Please don’t think I’m the biggest jerk on the planet. I never wanted to leave you alone at the prom. My dad got a new job. It’s top secret. I can’t talk about it. And that night, the government people came and moved us lock, stock and barrel to Las Vegas. That’s all I can say. Except to let you know how sorry I am that your prom was ruined. And to tell you that I think you’re the greatest girl in the world.

  And I love you very much.

  Yours forever, Brady

  P.S. Please come to the phone when I call.

  Sunny didn’t realize she was crying until Peanut jumped up to lick her face.

  Brady had been telling the truth. He had written a dozen letters to her, and she had never received a single one. She pulled them out one by one and read them all. In the last letter, mailed from MIT where he went to college, he said, “My parents think I should move on. So if I don’t hear back from you after this letter, I will stop pestering you.”

  Sunny’s heart ached, but she was no longer suffering because of that terrible night at the prom. She was now grieving for all the time that might have been theirs, if only her mother had delivered the letters. Sunny knew that in her own twisted way, her mother thought she was helping. She wanted Sunny to focus on her studies, not moon over a boy. But now Sunny wondered about other motivations, about the competition between her mother and Brady’s father. She had a dozen questions for Brady.

  Cleaning up her face was a six-tissue job. She needed Peanut’s support during her quest for details, so she slipped his leash on. She did the best she could with a dab of lipstick and a swipe of the hairbrush. Then she stuffed Brady’s letters into her purse, slung it over her shoulder, took firm hold of Peanut’s leash, and headed downstairs to find Brady.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THIS TIME SHE WASN’T WAITING AROUND. She went straight to the front desk, where Reese McAvoy was listening to an employee. Sunny couldn’t stand still, so she walked Peanut around the Christmas tree. Through the glass of the front entrance, she could see that the snow was letting up a bit but still coming down. The tree was the brightest thing in the lobby, and the six little dog lovers from the bus were entertaining themselves beneath the tree, playing with the toys Brady had given them. She could hear the young man at the front desk giving a report to McAvoy.

  “The Fineman Wakes from the Rocking Eagle called. They said to bill them for Mrs. Gonzalez’s rooms. They said she’ll need more than one with all six kids, and the ranch foreman will come pick them up around noon tomorrow, or whenever they can get into town. Miss Vicky said she’s going to stay here tonight so Mr. Lopes will know someone here, and she doesn’t want her husband or her chauffeur out in this weather. And Miss Mina called from her boutique to talk to your in-laws, but they were with Mrs. McAvoy and I didn’t know if I was allowed to give out your private number.”

  She heard Reese respond, “No problem. She already has our private number, since my wife is her cousin. You did just fine. Is everyone else taken care of?”

  “Yes, sir. Brady Felton said he’ll be staying the night, too.”

  “Excellent.”

  When it sounded like they were done, Sunny turned away from the idyllic scene around the Christmas tree and walked up to Reese McAvoy. “Have you seen Brady? Did he go to his room?”

  “Oh, I thought you two were having dinner,” said Reese.

  “He got a phone call and had to leave,” said Sunny. “It’s urgent that I find him.”r />
  Reese was smiling down at Peanut. “Cute little doggy. I’ll be sure to tell him you’re looking for him if I see him. Oh, wait, I think I spotted him a while ago out front. He was talking to Tony, his driver. But surely he came back in after that.”

  “Thanks.” Sunny took a deep breath and started walking. Peanut was trotting to keep up. Sunny was so focused, she didn’t even stop to allow admirers to praise her beautiful dog. She went out front and glanced around. The little bus was no longer parked under the portico. Peanut pulled her toward the sidewalk where he’d previously done his business. “Hurry up,” said Sunny. “Mommy’s not wearing a jacket.”

  A few moments later, they headed back inside. Vicky emerged from the restaurant, one arm hooked around Mr. Lopes’ elbow. The Christmas music that filled the lobby was a recording of old standards.

  Sunny glanced at her phone. It was eight p.m. and yet the lobby wasn’t emptying out, it was filling up. She saw several other passengers from the Christmas Express settling on the lobby benches. Even behind the registration desk, there were more burgundy jackets now than there had been when the bus arrived. There was an air of anticipation in the hotel. Everyone was waiting for something.

  Then from the area near the elevators came the heavenly sound of a choir singing “O, Little Town of Bethlehem.” The six little ones gathered their toys and retreated away from the tree to settle at the feet of their mother who’d found an upholstered chair against the wall. Several tables outside the entrance to Il Vaccaro were also filled with people. Sunny picked Peanut up and looked around for a seat. Two strong arms encircled her as Brady found her.

  Sunny opened her mouth to speak, but Brady put a finger to his lips and nodded in the direction of the approaching choir. He led her toward the far wall and a small upholstered settee. They shared it as the choir took its place in front of the tree. As one carol ended, another began.