His Mistletoe Proposal

by Christy McKellen

  ‘—quite something,’ she finished, turning to give him an earnest smile. It seemed that he’d finally been able to impress her.

  ‘Thanks. I bought the place as soon as I moved here from London.’

  She nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing in thought. ‘You used your half of the money your mum left you from the sale of her house in Richmond.’

  He grimaced to himself, realising there could be other moments like this, where she told him things about himself that he had no idea she knew. Of course Amy had always been a blabbermouth and was bound to have talked about him, but the realisation that she knew him much better than he’d realised made him a little nervous.

  ‘I made a lot of money when I was working in corporate finance in my early twenties and made some sound investments, so I’m in a pretty good financial position now. I give piano lessons too, though I mostly do cut-price deals for people who wouldn’t normally be able to afford them.’

  ‘Not just a pretty face then,’ she said, then looked pained as if embarrassed by blurting that out.

  ‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked, shaking off his sudden discomposure and moving towards the door that led through to the small kitchen at the back of the flat.

  ‘Do you have peppermint tea?’

  He turned back to fix her with a look of disgust. ‘No. I don’t drink that muck.’

  She frowned. ‘Fruit tea?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Anything without caffeine?’ she asked with a small sigh of exasperation.

  ‘No. I have coffee or builder’s tea.’

  ‘I’ll take a glass of water. Mineral if you’ve got it.’

  ‘Tap water it is,’ he said, smiling as he turned away from her comical eye-roll to stride away to the kitchen.

  When he returned a few minutes later with a mug of strong coffee for himself and a pint of tap water for her, she was drumming her fingertips on the arm of the sofa while her gaze darted around the room.

  If he didn’t know better he’d think she was nervous about being here with him. But why would she be? Apparently she knew him better than he knew himself.

  He put the tray down on the coffee table before sitting on the sofa next to her. She flashed him a smile of thanks and reached for the water, taking a delicate sip before replacing it on the table.

  Why was the atmosphere suddenly so awkward? he wondered as he sipped at his scalding coffee.

  Perhaps because they were letting each other get closer and it was a bit unnerving. After all, she was his sister’s best friend and under any other circumstances they’d probably never have crossed each other’s paths. He was glad he’d met her out tonight though. It felt like a small but significant development in his life.

  ‘So Lucy told me you weren’t always the polished paragon of fashion I see before me today,’ he said in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, gesturing to the designer outfit she’d worn to the swimming pool.

  Was he imagining it, or had her face paled a little? She certainly looked a bit self-conscious all of a sudden as she raised her hands and surreptitiously ran her forefingers over her perfectly arched eyebrows.

  ‘Oh, really? What exactly did she say?’ she asked in what was clearly intended to be a nonchalant tone but fell well short of the mark. At least it came across that way to him.

  He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so he shrugged and said, ‘Just that you were a bit of a rock chick when you were younger.’

  ‘Yes, well, we all have our ridiculous phases. I had a thing for musician types for a while, but it never suited me.’ Her back was ramrod straight now. ‘Is that all she told you about me?’

  ‘Yes, even though I tried to get all the dirt on you I could,’ he joked, wondering what her uneasiness was all about. Didn’t everyone have embarrassing clothing faux pas in their past?

  ‘Well, I was pretty boring apart from that,’ she said tonelessly, not playing along with his jokey manner, which made him suspect there was more to this than she was willing to admit. He had a gut feeling that if he dug deeper he’d discover something a little more painful in her past.

  ‘You know, I can’t picture you as a child,’ he said, flashing her a playful grin, hoping to lift her mood. ‘You’re such a grown-up.’

  She raised a reproachful eyebrow, but he could tell from the smile in her eyes that she’d taken his teasing as a joke this time. ‘Somehow I don’t think you mean that as a compliment.’

  He just grinned back.

  Getting up from the sofa, she walked towards his piano and sat down on the stool, gently pressing a couple of the keys.

  ‘Do you play?’ he asked, nodding towards the instrument that had given him so much pleasure in his life. The day he’d bought that piano had been the happiest of his life.

  ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I took some lessons when I was younger, but—’ She paused, as if pulling herself back from the brink of saying something a little too revealing.

  ‘But?’ he prompted, getting up from the sofa and joining her, fascinated to hear what she’d say next.

  Clearing her throat, she gave a little shrug. ‘It never really stuck with me. My sister got all the creative and musical genes. According to her, I’m completely tone-deaf.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ he said, sensing there was more to this story than she was giving up.

  ‘I know, right? And I have the perfect hands for playing the piano.’ She held her hands up, spanning her long fingers to show him. ‘Piano player’s hands, or so I’ve been told.’

  ‘It’s not too late to give it another go,’ he pointed out.

  Her returning smile was tight. ‘I don’t have time for anything outside of work at the moment. It’s pretty intensive, especially with the commute on top.’

  A question about why she’d chosen to live in Bath and commute all the way into London was on the tip of his tongue, but he stopped himself from asking it at the last moment. He didn’t really want to get into a boring conversation about train delays and ticket prices.

  In fact, he’d rather not think about London and the life he’d moved away from at all.

  ‘Hey, what are you doing for Christmas?’ she asked, breaking into his unsettling train of thought.

  ‘Er...’ He had to think fast. No way was he admitting that he was planning to spend it alone getting slowly sozzled in front of the TV. It was a matter of pride. And he didn’t want her thinking she had to invite him to do something with her either. ‘I’m getting together with my bandmates. None of us have family nearby so we’re all going for a pub Christmas lunch.’

  This answer seemed to please her because she gave him a bright smile. ‘Oh, good. I was afraid you might be on your own. I’d have invited you to spend it with me, but I promised my parents I’d go up to Derbyshire to see them this year.’

  He wondered why this had produced a pinched little scowl on her face.

  ‘I’m glad you’ve got somewhere to go,’ he said, pushing away his concern. Perhaps her family got up each other’s noses when they got together over Christmas. He leaned back against the side of the piano and smiled down at her. ‘I bet your parents will be pleased to see you. Amy mentioned that you’ve not been back to England since moving to the States.’

  Her cheeks flushed with colour. ‘No, well, it’s so expensive to fly over, and my boss is pretty strict about how much holiday we can take.’

  She got up from the piano stool as if wanting to call a halt to this particular conversation and gave what he could have sworn was a fake yawn. ‘Anyway, I’d better get home. It’s getting late and I’m exhausted after that swim.’

  He pushed away from the piano and straightened up too. ‘Sure. Well, thanks for keeping me company.’

  Making her way towards the door, she turned back to give him
a friendly smile. ‘No problem. It was fun.’

  He had a sudden urge to make some sort of a gesture to show her he really did appreciate the effort she was making to get to know him.

  ‘Hey, guess what?’ he said, following her into the hallway.

  ‘What?’ she asked, turning back from opening the door to look at him expectantly.

  ‘I managed to get a spare ticket to my gig next weekend. If you’re free, it’d be great if you could come.’ He held up both hands. ‘No pressure though.’

  The delighted smile she gave him made his insides heat.

  ‘Sure, I’d love to, if you really want me to come?’ From the wobble in her voice he suspected she thought he might just be offering it to be magnanimous. Which wasn’t the case. He really did want her to come and support him. It would actually be pretty great to have someone there just for him.

  Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I wasn’t interested in being friends the other night. It’s just that my head’s been full of this gig and there hasn’t been much room for anything else in there.’ He tapped the side of his head with two fingers and grinned at her.

  She smiled back, her eyes soft with understanding.

  His stomach did a weird flip.

  ‘It’s fine, I get it.’

  ‘And I appreciate you making the effort to arrange a date with Lucy for me, even if we didn’t hit it off,’ he added with a wry grimace.

  She flashed him a shamefaced smile, then swung the door open and exited into the cold night air.

  He was just about to shut the door behind her when she turned back and said, ‘Thanks for letting me come with you tonight. I had fun.’ And with one last sincere smile, she went striding off down the street.

  He stared after her, his insides feeling a little churned up, stunned to acknowledge that, despite all his expectations to the contrary, he’d had fun tonight too.

  * * *

  Flora spent the next week battling with her boss to give her the autonomy she needed to do her job properly. It was only the thought of seeing Alex again at the weekend that kept her from a complete and utter meltdown at the end of each day.

  While the thought of sitting through a couple of hours of jazz didn’t exactly appeal, she was actually quite glad to be getting out and socialising on a Saturday night. When she was on her own she had a tendency to go over and over the issues from her working week and it always sent her into a downward spiral of anxiety—a mental state she’d struggled with on and off all her working life. It had been worth putting up with for the kudos of the position and the generous pay packet her job offered, but sometimes she felt desperate for a reprieve from it. At times like those, she imagined how great it would feel to be her own boss—primarily for the enhanced sense of control it would offer.

  Their jaunt to the swimming pool and the subsequent softening in Alex’s attitude towards her had left her feeling much more positive about being able to fulfil Amy’s last wish though. To her surprise, she’d found herself actually enjoying his company. He wasn’t such a bad person to hang out with once you got past the glib flippancy and the tendency to flirt with anything that moved. His comment about her looking good without her make-up had surprised her too. It had been a long time since she’d gone out in public without a full face of make-up, but in her haste to meet him there on time she’d forgotten to put any in her bag. His kind words had given her shaky confidence a much-needed boost.

  Saturday finally came around and, keeping his comments in mind, she kept her make-up light and chose her outfit carefully. She didn’t want to stand out like a sore thumb, she told herself as she pulled on a pair of boot-cut jeans and a cashmere jumper in a beautiful sapphire blue that she hadn’t been able to resist buying that morning. It wasn’t as if they were going out on a date—it was just one friend supporting another—but she wanted to look as if she’d made a bit of an effort.

  After pulling on her high-heeled boots and sliding her arms into her long, satisfyingly heavy woollen trench coat, she let herself out of her flat and set off towards the venue where the gig was happening on the other side of the city.

  Bath’s centre was so small it only took her around fifteen minutes to reach her destination, so she walked through the doors of the old converted railway station where the gig was being held a few minutes earlier than she’d planned. While she hated unpunctuality, she also feared turning up too early for things, then having to hang around on her own like a saddo before they started. Thank goodness for being able to hide behind the safety of a mobile phone these days, she thought as she stepped through the door of the mostly empty venue.

  And what a gorgeous venue it was.

  It was as if she’d stepped back into the early nineteen-thirties.

  The whole place was done out in the art deco style, with the sharply defined geometric motif of a sunrise decorating the large steel and glass bar at the back of the room and the long mirrored wall behind it reflecting a mind-boggling array of colourful spirit bottles. Groups of black lacquered tables and chairs, decorated with holly and silver stars in a nod to the Christmas season, faced the long, low stage at the other end of the room where the band’s instruments were set up. To the left of the stage, strung with glinting white fairy lights, sat a black, highly polished upright piano.

  And sitting on the stool in front of it, looking intently at a sheaf of sheet music, was Alex.

  Except he hardly looked like the man she’d got to know over the last few weeks. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, with a black shirt open at the neck and a starkly white tie hanging loosely against his broad chest. He’d slicked his long fringe back with some kind of wax and it sat neatly against his head, apart from a couple of rogue strands which fell across his forehead, for once allowing his amazing bright blue eyes and strong jaw the exposure they deserved.

  Flora’s heartbeat thumped loudly in her ears as she stood staring at him, marvelling at how very different he looked. And how very different she suddenly felt.

  But this was just Alex, she reminded herself sternly. Amy’s scruffy, totally unsuitable brother. Who she was just friends with.

  Just friends.

  Realising that her mouth had become inexplicably dry, she swallowed hard and dragged her gaze away from Alex, making her way over to the bar to get herself a drink.

  She’d just been served a large glass of white wine when she felt someone approaching from her right. Turning to look, she saw Alex making his way towards her, his usual confident swagger very much in evidence.

  ‘Hey, you came,’ he said as he drew close, giving her one of his stunning wide smiles.

  For some reason her mouth didn’t seem to want to do as it was told, so she just stood there grinning at him like a complete fool.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked, looking bemused.

  Giving herself a mental shake she nodded, then cleared her dry throat. ‘Yes, great. You look fantastic. Very dapper. Are you nervous? You must be. It’s a big old place to fill. Not that I’m sure you won’t fill it—’ She finally managed to curb her babbling and gave him an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry, I guess I’m a bit nervous for you.’ The weird squeaky laugh that came out after that statement made her cheeks flush hot with embarrassment.

  He just grinned at her, his eyes twinkling. ‘Well, it’s kind of you to take my nerves on for me, but I’ve got it covered.’ She was sure she caught a momentary flash of trepidation in his eyes.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, reaching out to rub his arm in a friendly gesture of solidarity, feeling a shock of concern at how tense his muscles were beneath his suit.

  ‘Yeah, I’ll be fine once we get started.’

  In her peripheral vision Flora became aware of a man, also dressed in a sharp suit, walking towards Alex with stern intent written across his face. She ge
stured in his direction to draw Alex’s attention to him. ‘I think someone might need you.’

  The man came to a stop next to them and she saw Alex give him a somewhat reluctant nod of acknowledgement.

  ‘Alex, we need you backstage,’ the man stated in a curt voice.

  ‘Yeah, okay, I’ll be there in a minute.’

  His bandmate sighed. ‘No, now, man. We don’t have much time before this place is jammed.’

  Alex’s jaw flexed as he appeared to clamp it together hard. ‘Yeah, I know that, Zane,’ he said with ironic slowness, ‘but I’m talking here. I’ll be there in a minute.’ He emphasised the repeated sentence with such force that Flora wondered what the problem was between them. Because there clearly was one.

  Before the other man could respond there was a flurry of sparkles beside them and a woman appeared at his side.

  ‘Hey, guys. Everything okay here?’ she cooed in a beautiful gravelly voice.

  Flora turned her full focus to the woman and her eyes involuntarily widened. She was dressed in an ornately decorated flapper-style dress, which shimmered under the lights as she stood there gazing at them all with catlike yellow eyes. She was beautiful. Utterly stunning, with honey-coloured skin, full red-stained lips and glossy jet-black hair that had been styled into soft waves pinned away from her face, like they used to wear it in the nineteen-thirties.

  ‘Yeah, we’re fine,’ Alex muttered with a scowl, only shooting the woman the most perfunctory of glances.

  ‘And who’s this?’ she asked, giving Flora a curious smile.

  ‘This is Flora,’ Alex said, but from the sound of his voice he really didn’t want to extend the introduction any further than that.

  Was she really that embarrassing to be around? The thought made a prickly shiver rush across her skin. Perhaps he was only being chivalrous when he’d said that she didn’t need to wear make-up to look good.

  Gritting her teeth, Flora flashed him a covert frown before turning back to the woman. ‘Nice to meet you. I’m guessing you’re part of the band too?’